8: A Stranger

When I woke up I was in the hospital, bandaged all over again, Chris was looking down on me, surprised, he smiled with relief. He told me what happened, everyone was shocked when they found me bleeding. Everyone didn't know how I got stabbed, since it was impossible for I was talking on the phone for no more than ten minutes and no one came close enough to have an opportunity to have a go with a knife at me - and no one would dare, especially when you're in a place surrounded by well armed and well trained police officers. Even the doctors were perplexed, the wound was fresh indicating that it wasn't there that morning, and the angle and depth of the injury suggests that it was not self-inflicted. Well Jesus knows that I'm not a man who doesn't have suicidal tendencies, I thought as Chris was telling me off. I begged Chris to have the inquisition suspended and to have the news prevented from getting to my grandfather, this is too much hell already and I'm sure they will not be able to find an answer to it. This is just another curious case that I don't to want to deal with. After three un-glorious days of bed rest the doctors had deemed it worthy that I be discharged, I was glad to be going home. One can not be happy enough to find an empty home, it was good to not have my grandfather hovering me and telling me that this was another sinister plot against me because of this case; I was happy.

I ordered in some food since I was too lazy to cook that night, I was relieved, until another knock came to my door. I hurriedly went to open it, as I pulled it open my jaw dropped to see who it was standing in front of me. It was the girl from my therapist's office.

She smiled at me and didn't even waited to be invited inside for she went in and took me by the hand. She was silent and we ended up in the living room where the TV was open and work was at the center table. She placed her palm on my wounded chest and frowned, could she be affected by this? But first question was, how did she know where I live? I slapped myself, it hurts... I was awake, she chuckled. What the hell is happening?

"Who are you?" I said to her

"You didn't respond to my invitation so I thought I should just come over. You have been stupid enough to get yourself wounded again apparently", she said as she looked at my wound. "This one I won't be able to heal, this was done using an earthly weapon, something I am forbidden to meddle with," she said as she made herself comfortable on the sofa.

"I'm sorry but who are you again?" I had to ask while sitting beside her. She was unlike any girl that I have encountered, she was too easygoing, she literally hustled me to have dinner with her. I didn't know what's with her but I feel comfortable around her. She had those stunning bright eyes of deep chocolate brown, a fair complexion. Her lips were like the petals of pink roses, she's beautiful, at least in my opinion.

"I can't tell you", she said teasingly.

"Well, that's unfair", I replied. She smiled, "You already know my name, you even know where I live. I'm seriously beginning to think that you're a stalker, but I have no idea who you are and what's your angle in all of this." I added.

"You're an interrogator aren't you?" she smiled, "My name is confidential and you of all people should know that. You are a police officer after all".

She was right, wait, pause, rewind - she was right. I looked at her smiling face, she was right, I repeated in my brain. How could she be right? How could she know everything about me?

"Who are you? How could I know that?" I was on guard all of a sudden. She gave me a puzzled look.

"Know what?" she asked. Her words were cut short when there were knocks on my door, the orders came. I ordered my favorite pasta dish, chicken parmigiana with a side of garlic bread and garden salad and a small stack of chicken in a bed of greens in between two whole wheat bread. When the delivery boy was gone, she looked straight at me, her eyes were no longer smiling but they were stern and dead serious.

"Officer Alcalde, who do you think I am?"

"I don't know."

"I promised you didn't I? I'll be seeing you. So here I am."

I felt my color drain, my hands were cold and my pulse was racing, just who the hell is she? A promise... I can't forget those words, a promise, only one person promised me anything in the recent days, and it was during the last time I had my dreams of hell, the last time that I heard that voice. It was the first and last time that I felt what I assume is a touch of her kiss that revived my spirit despite my unfortunate accident.

"Let's have our dinner first. It's been a long time Robin, far too long." I watched her as she took a bite of her sandwich that was supposed to be mine and which I didn't remember offering to her, she was smiling at me with her eyes. She looked at her meal with tenderness and she exuded an aura of joy and delight but I on the other hand was stunned to silence, because I now know who she is, I knew deep inside me, I knew it all this time, but I didn't have a name to call her.

"Annie Villafuerte." I found my lips saying, quivering, I didn't know why those words came out but my insides were twisting. I felt my breathing grew heavy, my shoulders stiffen, "How could you be alive?"

"I'm not."

She looked at me, serious, dead serious. I was confused, how could she be alive, or not be alive but have dinner with me. This whole thing was insane, she can't be both at the same time. Her mere existence is a paradox, an impossibility which broke every law of nature. Yet here she is, sitting right across me eating her sandwich like this was a normal everyday occurrence. "With all that has been happening to you I can't believe that you're still shocked," she said to me.

Well of course! I said to myself, it's not everyday you have dinner with a girl that people are scouring the whole country for and presumed dead by almost all lawmen. How could she still be alive? I wracked my brain for any possibility for survival after a fifty foot dive to a blood pool.

"How could this be? You're dead!" I exclaimed in a controlled voice.

"What makes you say that I'm the girl you say I am?" she said softly. "I have not said that I was that girl, yet you concluded that I am her, it is written all over your face Robin".

I was staring at her, she is confusing me. "Stop! Who are you?!" I said in clenched teeth. "Do not toy with me whoever you are! Who are you!?"

Her calm composure is unnerving, her actions were all normal, as if this were a normal dinner date but this wasn't and she isn't. "Who are you!? How could you know everything about me?"

"Robin, why do you think you're having these hallucinations?"

"Because I'm mentally ill, what else could be the reason?"

"No. That's because you're different, they have chosen you to correct the mistake of those around", she answered as she took a sip of her cola.

"Of course I'm different, I'm mentally ill."

"And you take pride on that?"

I was silent, of course I wasn't proud of it, who in the right mind would be, but then again medically speaking I wasn't in one so being proud of my condition was logically acceptable; of course I didn't voiced that out. All I could do was to choked down a smile because of the logic that I used to justify my own reasoning. She was quiet for a moment, she was looking straight into my eyes, they had a sense of warmth that envelops me with so much calm and beauty that my fears were beginning to melt but - "Oh look my brother's in the news!" Yup, just like a bubble every good feeling vanished, she's one beautiful yet complicated mess, where do they make girls like her? She stared at the image of Ulysses Villafuerte, as he was kissing a young woman on the cheek, his new fiancee, the designer Laurice Guillegue, a smile curved from her lips, but a tear was rolling down her eyes; she was crying. Her reaction from the news was astounding, she was deeply affected. Seeing how a simple image could bring about this much from her, my heart shattered on the floor, I was silent. She called him brother, this time I wasn't surprised since I have already convinced myself that she is Annie Villafuerte. I was about to put my hand on her shoulder to console her when she grabbed my hand. Her hands were ice cold, her color was draining as she gripped my hand, I felt pain as she was squeezing my hand. Then she spoke, "I can't believe that she went here", she looked back at me, her eyes were different, her face, it was different, I don't know how to explain it, but I knew that she wasn't the same girl.

She sneered at me, I knew who she is, she was the one who stabbed me. I swallowed slowly as she stared straight to my eyes. She was having the time of her life seeing me in fear. "Who are you?" I found courage to ask her. She let go of my hand, stood up and faced me, I felt my small resolve melt, she was exuding an aura as if she was burning everything around her. She was the incarnation of hell, the fiery pit taking the form of human, wielding the face of an angel but has a persona that is as dark as the night sky.

"Would you really like me to answer that Traveler?" it said, in my head I was saying no but I did ask her so I guess it would be just better if I find out, I nodded.

"I'm a being not to be meddled with. Believe me when I tell you that if not for the fragile state of this form I would have you dead by now. This is your last warning, for the next time we meet each other again luck will not be with you, this insolent child nor your God will be able to protect you."

I felt chills run down my spine as it said those words, but somehow in midst of my human fears I found courage to answer, "But she told me that she needs me, and I'm not one who shys away from a challenge especially from a beautiful young lady."

"Foolish mortal", it said with a sneer, once more a chill ran down my spine and the person in front of me vanished.

I slapped myself, I wanted to make sure I was awake, and painfully I was. Everything that happened was real. I didn't even know how to react to that fact but I found the urge to pursue this case to its resolution was at its peak. I can't make my own brain forget how she told me that she needed my help implicitly. I don't even care anymore what the nature of my case was, the mixture of drive and fear producing an unpleasant yet effective feeling on me. I couldn't wait for tomorrow, so even with my still bandaged chest I took my keys, got in my car and drove to the station, I need my evidence box.