Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Ray, I need you tonight. It's for a personal thing. You available?" She asked as Ray walked into her office. The woman managed to take over an abandoned corporate building, creating it into her own fortress where she dealt with her business. Ray hated coming here, it being creepy since most of the building wasn't fully renovated.
The halls were long and creaky, at night being the worst because it was completely dark. They always prayed while walking through, part of them believing in the Caribbean superstitions they were told as a child. All the found footage movies they indulged in didn't help either, Grave Encounters being the last one they saw.
"Well, I'm here."
"Great. It's going to be a long trip. We won't be back for a few days."
"Wait..a few days?" Ray asked while rubbing their neck. The weekend was nearly over already, Ray having to be on campus Monday morning. They didn't want to miss class, but she didn't know that they were in school. It was their personal business.
"Yes. Is there a problem with that?" She asked as she sat on top of her desk, crossing her bare legs. Ray shook their head, the aggravation burning the corner of their eyes.
"Great because it's a ten million dollar trip. Out of the country. I made you a passport, so don't worry about that."
"Okay." Ray watched as she hopped from on top of her desk, walking down the hall as she answered her phone. It gave time to send an email to their professors, saying it was a family emergency. Professor Stone's email address was the last to pop up after their other professors, Ray staring at it for a second before pressing it.
"All good?" She asked causing Ray to jump. She was standing right in front of them, Ray nodding as they locked their phone with a sheepish smile. She looked over their face for a second before nodding, grabbing her things and walking to the stairs that led to the roof.
"Where are we headed?"
"Jamaica. I've got a few associates out there who've created a mess that we need to clean up." She shouted over the helicopter. It was loud and windy, Ray gripping their things as they trudged through the breeze, slipping into the helicopter.
"Are you ready? We're going to have fun." She grinned. Ray nodded while smiling back despite their anxiety, the dirty blonde woman passing them a glass and popping open a bottle that nearly spilled causing both of them to chuckle.
"To getting richer and richer."
*******************************
Monday Morning..
Dianne was a wreck. The entire weekend was spent trying to de-escalate her anxiety. After seeing the contents in Ray's journal by mistake, Dianne started to freak out about whether they saw what was in hers. Her deepest, darkest thoughts were in that journal.
Her dirtiest desires too.
She wrote about everything imaginable, having piles and piles of overused journals that were filled with her thoughts in her attic. She sobbed in bed all weekend, her thoughts and all the what if's chewing her alive from the inside out. She barely ate, feeling sick to her stomach at the thought of her student looking into her eye knowing what they know.
Fuck.
She couldn't help but be embarrassed, as well. She had a small crush on Desirée that she's been trying to shake off. She wrote about it in her journal that night she masturbated. She couldn't sleep, her intrusive desire taking over her mind so much that she couldn't help but write.
Now it's going to bite her in the ass, Dianne nearly shaking as she got out of her car and walked into the building. She nodded at the quiet 'good mornings', her blonde hair in its usual slicked back ponytail. She had on a simple outfit, a pair of grey slacks and a black sweater. Her makeup was still heavy, her bruises still visible without it.
Her chin trembled as she walked down to the classroom, taking a deep breath before opening the door to see the class filled up except for one seat. Her heart sank in her chest, the woman more-so panicked by Desirée's absence rather than relieved.
What if she dropped the class because of my journal? Fuck fuck..what if she went to the police?
"Okay, class. Today will be a free-write day. I'm feeling a little bit under the weather. Take out your journals that I requested you purchase for this class." Everyone did as they were told, some slipping in their headphones while others sharpened their pencils. Dianne kept it traditional in her classroom, not allowing iPads or laptops to be used.
It was less overstimulating. It allowed her to pick up on the thought process and learning styles of her students. She looked over at the empty desk, wondering what Desirée's were. She couldn't wait to read her assignments, suddenly growing sad that she wasn't here to participate.
Maybe she's sick. Maybe she sent an email.
Dianne opened her outlook, scrolling through her emails hoping to see her name but it never happened. She sighed, shaking her head before marking her absent on her roster. She suddenly thought maybe she was spooked from Dianne having her journal, her blood growing cold.
Drug dealers have weapons. They kill people who are a threat.
That thought alone made Dianne nearly flinch. She couldn't fathom having another person trying to hurt her. She thought about her mother and her wife, Dianne groaning quietly as she placed her head down on the cool wood of her desk.
"Are you okay, Professor?" One student asked. She looked up and saw everyone staring at her causing her to sit up straight while nodding.
"Yes, sorry. I have a bit of a headache." She cleared her throat after speaking, some of the students chuckling as they interpreted it as a hangover from partying over the weekend.
But the reality was, her thoughts were loud and her body was on fight or flight. Dianne felt sick to her stomach. She was tired of having to constantly look over her shoulder, and now her potential favorite student might be after her because of one silly mistake.
Dianne decided to do a free-write of her own, scribbling out every possible scenario that plagued her mind. She wrote and wrote, pages and pages of her cursive on blank paper filling up her desk by the time her first class was over. She gathered them quickly, stapling them together before slipping them into her purse.
"Have a great rest of the day everyone."
"Hope you feel better professor." Most of them mumbled while walking out. The last student shut the door, Dianne letting out a long breath as she pulled out her ponytail.
"Okay, okay. It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay. Maybe she hasn't read it yet. Maybe none of these things will happen. Maybe she won't climb through my window and murk me in my sleep. It's okay. It's okay Dianne. You're just OCD and panicking over potential issues that haven't happened yet. Just breathe."
The sound of her phone ringing scared her so badly that she screamed, covering her mouth as she looked down with wide, watery eyes, It was her mother, Dianne placing a hand over her chest as her heart rate rose significantly from the startle.
"Hello?" Her voice was shaky, Dianne swallowing hard as she waited for her mother's voice.
"Where the fuck have you been? Huh? I've been trying to call you because your wife has gone batshit crazy in the hospital. She choked out one of the nurses!"
"I've been at work I-"
"I don't give a fuck. This is YOUR issue. Not mine. Go fucking fix it before I drag you over there by your hair."
