TREPIDATION: PART TWO
Chapter OneNina’s funeral was even more depressing than Mister Jacob’s, and when Calin and Toni left, Toni would not speak a word to him the whole ride home.
When he pulled into her apartment complex, one with a room she used to share with Nina, she thanked him quietly before entering the building, rushing up the stairs as tears began to roll down her face.
She opened the door to her apartment and stood still in shock, from the combination of the unusually unlocked door and the chair in the center of the barren room that she planned to move out of, positioned directly under a noose.
Her tears stopping, she moved toward it as if she was in a trance.
She stepped up on the chair and felt the weaving rope, feeling as if it belonged around her neck.
Slowly, she positioned the noose, and began to tighten it around her neck…
Calin looked up at the stairs at the bottom of the complex, and, on an impulse, rushed up them two at a time, flying toward Toni’s open door, he screamed her name as he saw the chair kicked over through the doorway, and jumped into the room to see Toni sobbing, curled up into a ball in the far corner of the room.
He sprinted toward her, taking her up in his arms and whispering, “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
Lacey had come late to the cemetery to avoid the funeral, and the demented homicide paparazzi, so when she arrived everyone had already left.
Walking slowly over the unnaturally green grass, that looked as if someone had painted over it, she approached Nina’s grave as if something horrible awaited her.
When she arrived, she gasped, taking up her phone from her jacket pocket.
Toni picked up the phone on the fifth ring, tentative to hear more bad news.
“Toni?” Lacey’s voice came through the receiver as if she had to whisper.
“Yes?” Toni asked.
“What was Nina doing when she died?”
“Ch-checking her m-make-up. W-why?”
Silence returned her answer.
Lacey, at the cemetery, had dropped the phone.
She looked on in horror at the early-arrived headstone.
The granite was smoothed, sanded perfectly so that a wandering eye could more easily catch the roughly carved letters.
Vanity Was Her Undoing.