Read Online Blood Rose by Jacquelynn Gagne - Free Book Online Page B

closing the store so it will just be the three of us.” This was typically something that would excite Neesa to no end, so her timid smile made me nervous.
    “He- um- I mean, she really doesn’t have to close the store on my account. It’s not important really. I mean no offence, Nees but I don’t really believe in this stuff... all too much, anyways.”
    The look upon her face was riddled with fear and worry. Though she did her best to replace it quickly with a smile, it was so forced that it made her look queasy.
    “I will pick you up at nine, okay?” It was my turn to grimace. Of course I would be awake I just didn’t like going out so early. “Okay?” She pressed again.
    I gave a small smile of submission and nodded. I had the day off anyway. The comment about Damien was surprising but all I could do is store it away for later evaluation.
    As I was leaving Damien made another attempt at offering me a ride home. Declining, I shook my head and set off walking. As I was making my way around to the front, I heard our bar tender, John Reed speaking to him. “Forget her man, she ain’t worth the time. Trust me, that chick is psycho.” That was all I heard thankfully. As I walked, their voices faded to nothing.
    The walk home was eerily quiet with every store, restaurant and business closed at the late hour. The only lights were the streetlamps that blotted out the stars, leaving only the moon.
    I was left to walk in peace accompanied by only my thoughts. John was a jerk. I knew that. It still got to me. Most of my thoughts swirled him and our brief history. John had been working at Riads for a month. He was good but he was a prick who hated my guts as much as Carrie did. In light of no better phrase with my current mood, he’s a man-whore. But then again I was feeling bitter.
    Switch gears. Damien. Would he listen to John? Maybe. Did I want him to? Honestly, no. Why did I turn him down then? I’m not really shy at all even though I am kind of quiet. I liked him. But he worked with me. That’s a big rule- Don’t date a co-worker if you don’t want to work with an ex. Uhg. All of this was too frustrating. Next.
    Neesa was paranoid, weird and fruity. And as much as I loved her, I just couldn’t fall into believing all this hoodoo voodoo. She’d kill me if she heard me say that. Did I believe that about her? No. Did I believe her? No? Arg, next.
    Finals were in two weeks. Nothing too terrible. I’ve been a student at Champlain going on two years. Some semesters I went to the actual school for classes. I try to avoid it when possible. This year’s online education consists of the completion of my BA in Liberal arts. Study groups meeting online this week because Jenny has the flu. Computers don’t catch flu bugs. I thought about school the rest of walk home.
    Nothing happened on the walk home. I didn’t see a single car. Didn’t even see anyone I knew. No one bothered me or talked to me. Once home I didn’t waste a minute before flipping on all the lights and heading for my small pantry closet I used solely to store all my art supplies. My aversion to bright light was always put on the back burner when I worked on my art.
    Before long, all my furniture was pushed against the walls. Boxes of chalk scattered the floor around a mural sized canvas. My radio finally plugged back in, played Shaman’s Harvest loudly but not deafening as I sang off key to the words. I sat on my knees once again back in my usual night clothes of comfortable tank tops and Capri yoga pants, soon to be covered with smudges of chalk.
    Never were my hands so steady as when they held a brush, chalk, pencil or even a mound of raw clay. I worked until the dawn began to crack through the midnight darkness into a pale grey. Until my hands ached from holding the chalks just so, causing them to cramp. I wouldn’t stop until my body trembled from exhaustion and my knees were raw and stiff from kneeling for hours on the cold wooden floor.
    Hours