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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1723049-The-Beginning-of-the-End
Rated: 18+ · Other · Other · #1723049
Janelle's life's work backfires on her and a nation, all after she falls for a man.
Janelle loved it when the heat outside was unbearable. When it was that humid heat that made everyone sweat in buckets; where that mere fifteen minutes outside, meant their clothes would be stuck to them as if they had just stepped out of a rainstorm. Janelle didn’t mind much, in fact, days like that were some of her favorite because she was able to see the men at the construction site across the way take off their shirts. There was something about the way the she could peer across the street from her desk and watch them through the one-sided mirror windows, without a soul in the world knowing what she was thinking; A voyeuristic quirk in her abnormally normal life. Visions would play across her mind, pulled straight out from one of the many romance novels that lined the cheap oak bookshelves in her apartment.

The single life was starting to get to her. It wasn’t like she was unattractive, her curly red hair always fell in just the right way, and her locks accentuated her pale skin and her vibrant, emerald green eyes. Her problem was all she seemed to do was work. She’d start early and wouldn’t go home till the sun had already long since set. She would easily admit that, like a lonely cat-lady, she would shuffle back home via the subway, and enter her apartment. A TV dinner later, she would be ready for bed. The place had always been a dive. When she first made her way to the city, she was living on a hope, a prayer, and the few thousand dollars that lay in her savings account waiting to be wasted away. What she didn’t realize at the time was that the invention that had been a year in the making was about to take off and would catapult her into a new level. Suddenly, the world would be vying for battery operated air fragrance dispersal systems, and she was the one who could proudly put her name on them.

Her home was simple, run down; she had a make-shift home office that was always a mess, a rickety desk that was almost to its final leg, and to the left a filing cabinet, the exact same color as the ten years of paperwork that was hidden safely in side of it. Concealed behind the wall of that desk was her bedroom, a makeshift room that she swore up and down, that she was going to upgrade, one day. Her mattress and box spring lay on the floor, next to piles of clean clothing and her office clothing hanging from a string. The walls hadn’t been painted for years, the white slowly yellowing more and more since she moved in, she would almost swear that they were a lead hazard. It was a dump, or so her father had said each of the few times he had been there before he passed on, though the occasional skittering cockroach was too much to deny that fact. She was gonna get out of there one day, she promised her father.

‘One day’, was her motto, as anyone she had grown up with would admit. Yet, she went back home to a shoddy apartment in the lesser part of the city. She didn't mind it, however, she always told herself that 'next month I'll find a new place' every time the rain leaked in or the faucet wouldn’t work, or the water wouldn’t turn hot. And it never happened. Maybe it was the thought of moving away from the familiar, or perhaps it was the ongoing fear that some low life New Yorker was going to run off with her things while she was in the process of loading or unloading.

One day did come though, in the heat of the summer, when she least expected it, when the construction workers across the street wished they could take off their skin, just to cool down. It was a man who walked into her office, citing off some party line of how he was an efficiency expert, making his rounds, trying to weed out the slowpokes in the company. Rock, was his name. And in every sense, he reminded Janelle of the men that were posed on the covers of those very romance novels she turned to every night, as a way to get past the relationship barrier she had. He had that dirty blonde hair that seemed wind-blown even though it was a windless day; eyes that seemed you could stare into them forever and get lost in the ocean that was his mind. And a smile that, Janelle had come to believe, could melt even the coldest of hearts. He looked like, in all respects, a Roman God. Perfectly chiseled from every corner of his being.

It didn’t take a lot for her to fall for him, and she fell hard. She lusted for him, though deep down, somewhere in her heart, she knew that love wasn’t there. Even though they lacked that deeper emotional connection, Janelle latched on the best she could, feeling as if she would never be able to get anything better than him. They did have other connections though. A love for chocolates, movies, and striving to do well at work. Rock quickly took an interest into what Janelle did, and what she created, and for the first time in her life, she was utterly amazed that someone cared about something she did. It didn't take long for an agreement to move into his apartment together, and Janelle couldn't have been any happier. Those romance novels met the trash bin and a smile seemed to be permanently plastered on her face.

“Alright,” Rock said as he opened the door to his penthouse apartment,” Here is your new home.” He smiled that ever charming smile, and Janelle couldn’t help but to return the action,” You’re furniture is in storage, and all of your boxes have been moved to the guest room for you to unpack.” Rock’s arm snaked around Janelle’s waist and pulled her in close.” Welcome home, beautiful” He finished with a peck on her lips.

“You know, for awhile I wondered what I was getting myself into, I mean,” she paused and rested her head on Rock’s shoulder,” You never brought me here before.” Her head craned around the place, taking in everything within sight. It was the epitome of a modern bachelor pad, except it was spotless. To her left were a living room and a kitchen, both filled with black and white fixtures. A glass table, surrounded by two sharp, black chairs sat next to the huge windows that spanned from one side of the room to the other. The view from there was absolutely breathtaking, the whole city could be seen, which a low cover of clouds was reflecting the sun back upwards, and brightening the room even more. Set back aways was the living room, Two midnight couches sat in an L shape in front of a gigantic flat screen TV. Janelle stepped forward and glanced to her right, and headed down the hall, Rock close behind. The stark white walls contrasted the black doors and the silver handles.

“The first door on the right is the bathroom, on the left is our bedroom, second on the right is the guest room, second on the left is the office, and straight ahead is my room,” Rock said stepping in front of Janelle and stopping her,” The door is always locked, so don’t even bother.”

“Wha-“Janelle started before she was cut off.

“Don’t ask, it’s none of your business, here, let me show you our bedroom,” Rock replied casually, his hand rubbing Janelle’s left shoulder as he moved behind her.

Janelle’s eyes lingered on the door for a moment, something in the pit of her stomach was telling her just to leave, to go back to her home and never look back. But her mind kept telling her that this was the best thing she had ever gotten herself into, and if anything, it was the best she was ever going to get.

Life, to Janelle, seemed to be as perfect as it could be. Visions lay somewhere in the future of a white picket fence and two and a half children, and maybe the hope that she could just stay at home and be the mother to her children that she had never had the opportunity to experience. However, every time Rock left the house, she somehow ended up in front of that damned door, jarring on the silver handle, praying that maybe, just maybe, this time he would have forgotten to lock it. It seemed as if whatever was behind that door was crying out to be seen, to be known. Janelle held faith somewhere deep in her heart that what was in there was nothing, but thoughts of the man she was living with being a murderer or a drug dealer wouldn’t leave her mind.

“Rock,” Janelle said one night as they sat at the kitchen table, eating their meal quietly, staring out at the city lights. The city lights were amazing, spanning for so many miles. It was times like these that she counted her blessings for being able to get to see such things.

Rock looked up, smiling that handsome, charming smile,” What’s on your mind beautiful?”

Janelle swallowed and set her fork onto the glass table, a quiet clink accompanying the action,” Rock,” she paused, unsure of how to word her thoughts. “Well, there has been only one thing on my mind since I moved in, and I just can’t seem to rest easy about it.”

“What is it?” He said, setting his silverware down, looking slightly uncomfortable,” Anything, you know I’d tell you anything.”

“It’s that damn door, Rock; I don’t understand why you won’t tell me what is behind that door.”

“You’ll never let that go, will you?”

“Well, to be goddamn honest, this is my home too and I shouldn’t be kept in the dark like this. I am really starting to wonder if you’re keeping something dangerous from me,” Janelle said, she manage to make her voice sound any stronger than the meek words that came out of her mouth. She felt foolish, like her words had no power behind them.

Rock clenched his jaw, and his normally understanding eyes seemed to turn to fire,” You know damn well when you moved in that the room is off limits- going into it, talking about it. Not every fucking thing is your business.” He stood up quickly, hitting the table at such an angle that the dishes and silverware clattered to the ground, making a disgusting mess on the hardwood floors,” When I feel something is your business, I will tell you. Until then, you’ll keep your mouth shut.” And that was the end of it. He stormed off in his locked room, hiding there for what seemed to Janelle was ages.

It was a Saturday night when she set her mind to finding out what secrets the man was keeping. Rock had been called away on a business trip clear to the other side of the country, and Janelle knew that was going to give her more than adequate time to snoop around for something that might lead her into the room. And she had decided, that if need be, she could pick that lock, as she was well aware of the plethora of videos YouTube had on the subject. So twenty minutes after he headed off, Janelle was kneeling in front of the door, bobby pin in hand.

It didn’t take her long to free the lock from its confines, and the door slowly swung open, similar to a horror movie, but without the eerie creaking. Her hand found the cold light switch and flipped it, a fluorescent light from the ceiling revealed a lab, set out with vials full of a white powdery substance. On the table across from that was blueprints and schematics all laid out, red marker lines modifying them. Janelle stepped forward, immediately recognizing them as her own, her latest prototype that would use one device to freshen the air of a whole small store. Except, the problem was, as she looked at the numbers, this was rigged to disperse into the wind, and cover a large area. And on top of it, it would disperse solids as well as liquids. Janelle’s stomache dropped and her head began to ache slightly. Emotions came over her like waves, first she wanted to protect Rock, to make it all vanish, like maybe he had nothing to do with it. Then she was apologetic, regretful that she had picked that lock. And then she was furious, the urge to beat something down was there, though she couldn’t bring herself to destroy any of the lab.

“What are you doing in here,” a deep voice snarled from behind Janelle. Without hesitation she spun around, slapping Rock across the face, fury rising to his eyes in response.

“What am I doing here?” she reiterated, fury filling her voice,” What the fuck are you doing here?”

Rocks hands were suddenly seizing Janelle’s shoulders, he shook her violently,” I. Told. You. How many fucking times that this room was off limits? AND STILL YOU COME IN HERE?” Janelle watched Rock’s jaw lock as he grasped her even tighter.

She was quickly coming to regret what she did,” Are you using my blue prints for…” Janelle paused, everything slowly clicking into place, her jaw dropped as bile rose to her throat,” For a… terrorist attack? Rock, are you going to kill people?”

“You say a word of this to anyone,” he growled, his breath hot on her ear, not answering her question. A shiver went down her spine, and the instinct to run away as fast as she could was trying to take over. However, the grasp that he had on her arms was so tight that she felt like she wouldn’t have been able to budge a bit.” I swear to God, the whole country will think that you were the brilliant mastermind behind this, just trying to pawn it off on someone else. After all,” he paused again, letting another breath of heat into her ear again,” they were your blueprints. I’ll get the slap on the hand. You will get crucified.” Rock pushed her into the wall as he let go of her, her body hitting so hard that the whole wall rattled,” Get your shit together and get the fuck out of my home. Or even better, get the fuck out of my home and I will have your shit shipped to you.”

“But I don’t-“Janelle started, her voice shaken, as she massaged her aching shoulder.

“Does it look like I give a fuck that you don’t have any place to go?” he yelled, his arms flailing with every word. Janelle didn’t move an inch, almost like a child around a wild dog, afraid that the slightest movement will bring down a rainstorm of pain. A minute passed as Rock’s furious eyes got wider,” GET OUT OF MY HOME.” He yelled, his voice echoing off of the empty walls of his hidden office. Still Janelle remained frozen, pondering her next move. Did she dare make a run for it, like he wanted, or could she possibly, in just a few moves, destroy the whole deadly set up that he had. Before she even realized it, his tough hands were around her and she was being dragged to the door, her feet slow and struggling to keep up. Seconds later she was being slammed against the wall outside his door, and he was gone. The apartment door shut and locked with a click that reminded Janelle of a prison.

Weeks passed, and Janelle managed to get back into her old, shoddy apartment, and she struggled to push that night out of her mind. She was trying to get everything to go back to normal, to erase everything that had happened. All she could recall now was what she saw, and the feeling of how fast she fell out of lust with him. In her mind, the once beautifully, handsome man was something grotesque, and almost reminiscent of a monster. She immersed herself with work, some nights not even making it home, having passed out from exhaustion at her desk.

It was nearly a year later, yet another hot day that Janelle had been running late for work, her alarm failed to go off after a late night power flicker. Her cell phone suddenly started to vibrate on the floor next to her bed, and a tune of R.E.M.’s ‘End of the World’ jingled loudly from the small speaker. Janelle rushed over to it as fast as she could, one foot shoeless, knocking over her slowly regrowing collection of romance novels. She answered the phone with a breathless “Hello,” after seeing that it was work that was calling.

“Don’t bother coming into work today,” her boss said on the other end, his voice rattling, and”I don’t want you coming through all of this.”

“All of what?” Janelle asked, as she slipped on her other heel, standing against the doorframe between her bedroom and her living room.

“Turn on the news, Jannie. It’s everywhere; it’s all over the country. Look, don’t come back to work till I call ya, I don’t want the brains of my place gettin’ hurt, or worse, dyin’. Look, I gotta go, you take care darlin’. Stay-,” and just like that, the man on the other end of the line was gone, and a dead silence sat in its place. She hit the off button, set down the phone, and grabbed the TV remote, almost worried to see what was on the TV, and as her thumb hovered over the little power button, she thought twice, bit her lip and put the remote down. She knew what it was, she had no doubt, and she didn’t need to see the disaster she created.





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