Anonymous POV "She visited her. Time is ticking—you can't say you have things under control when there's almost no time left." I yell into my phone. "Kid, relax. You worry too much, shouldn't you be getting a girlfriend already? What? How long has it been, since birth?" He chuckles under his breath. "This is serious. Stop playing games, I'm the one doing your dirty work for you. Hurry. Up." "Look. You signed up for this, okay? You knew what you were doing, and now you're trying to back out? Don't tell me you're scared," He threatens me. "I'm not," I reply, defending myself. "Could've fooled me, boy. Could've fooled me." He pauses and I could almost hear him stretching his sick mouth into a smile as he talks through the receiver, "She's a pretty little thing isn't she? So young. So loved. So rich. So betrayed," his deep laugh drums through my ears again. "You're a sick man." I spit. "Yet here you are, again. Coming to the sick man for help." He drags. "I will never understand you kids." "Maybe this is why you're alone," I fire back. "Hold your horses kid, you don't want to get on my bad side now do you? I thought we were just beginning to bond!" He exclaims again, laughing a gruff chuckle at his own dry joke. "We are friends aren't we?" I tense my jaw, and my grip on my phone becomes tighter, "This is strictly business. Don't push anything else towards me, or pull away. That's final." He lets out a satisfied grunt,"Kid is finally stepping up. I'm pleased. You've grown some balls over the years. What, it's been 3?" He asks. "No one's counting," I mutter. "Ah, but I am. Like you said, the time is ticking...and you can't help but count down," He breathes out. Chills spread up my spine; never will I get used to the presence of this man. "Kid, I know you're still there, I need to know that the plan is still in motion, " His tone has changed now, it's now cold and detached... I need to do this carefully. I force the words out of my mouth and speak tight, through my teeth, "Right here." He whispers,"Good, good. How far is the plan coming to play? You know my time is also ticking, and so is yours." "I do my part. You do yours. That was the deal," I try to not show the panic rising, I can't show him any emotion, or he will see and cancel everything. I can't afford that. "Uh, ah, uh ah," he beckons through the phone, "Until I start seeing results, that's when I start moving my pawns around the board. You know the drill kid. Don't disappoint me, " he finishes. I scoff, this scum bag is delirious,"Oh, like you have disappointed everyone that used to be in your life, even yourself?" I couldn't help myself. "In this world," he slows down his words, slurring them together like a poem" connections don't have expectations. They want the job done. Get the job done, get your reward. It's simple kid, don't go around spitting fire balls around a minefield. You could blow yourself up," he speaks. I begin, "With all due respect,—" "Sorry kid, my time has run up. Good chat. Now, time for phase 2, don't disappoint me." The douchebag hangs up on me. My arm swings back, and pushes forward, phone in my hand and throws it onto my bed. My hands grab onto my hair in frustration, I groan when the device bounces on the bed, and softly lands onto the pillow—unscathed. If you wanted it to be hurt, maybe try something a little less softer, mate? I tense my jaw and stare at the ceiling. It won't belong before the money is all ours, no one will suspect a thing, no one will see it coming, and no one will stop it. I angrily walk over to the pillow and snatch my phone back as if everything that has happened is all the pillow's fault. Nothing can interrupt this, it's the only way it will work. It has to. Something is shaking. I look down and see my hand quivering and wiggling in an uncontrollable manner, I try to calm myself but it only gets worse, and it starts to become painful. Wincing, I take a walk to the kitchen, passing some family picture frames on the way and set my eyes on the fridge. I swing the door open and rack city one of the cool, water bottles lined up on the rack. Twisting the cap open, I lean my head back and let the cool water, soothe my dry throat and hopefully all the way to my stubborn hand. These nerves are gonna get me killed if I don't get them under control. Reaching into my pocket, I take out the little packet I carry around with me, the pills are in a transparent small bag, in the form of those jelly babies, but still perform like a pill would. My drug doctor is a genius and a dumb asinine. I could lose this and a kid could thing it's free candy. I need to remind him to stop being an idiot. Popping two of them in my mouth, and slipping the packet back into the pocket, I finish the remnants of the water in the bottle and finish with a satisfied sigh. Ah, bottled cold water. Straight from...I read the little label behind the bottle and let out a dry laugh. Figures. Rich people never cease to please me. Straight from the clean waterfalls. What ********, water is water. I grab the empty bottle with me and stalk over to the householder's black phone sitting on the desk. Pulling out the gloves, the robotic voice rings throughout the room after the beep, when I press 1. "One message. Sent: Sunday 3:18pm, Marylands Hospital. Hi! Just wanted to say Raegan Madden, has paid her mother another visit. She brought a friend with her. Results are still the same, we can't say anything yet. Thanks for checking up, have a great day!" These so called royalty should really be careful who their messages end up with. Shaking my head I press a button, and the robotic voice speaks again. "Message deleted." Looking around the room in dismay, I go for the door, and stand outside, pulling the key under the mat, I shut the door and lock it. I walk down the pathway leading to the gate, saying the code, and walking out of Patricia Francesca Madden's driveway.
I'm going to put my hand in your shelf. And tear out every book. And then burn them. Fahrenheit 451 style.