The Prisoner Project

TWENTY FIVE

"One side of me says, "I'd like to talk to her and date her." The other side of me says , "I wonder what her head would look like on a stick?""

- Edmund Kemper (The Co-ed Killer)

TWENTY FIVE

IT WAS UNDENIABLY obvious that neither of us would be able to sleep that night. We lay beside each other on my bed, eyes adjusted to the darkened room and lips parting in short whispers to each other. My hands had ceased it's trembling and were tucked underneath my head. We were so close that I could feel her breath on my face and see every flaw on her face. It reminded me of mine. My ingrained flaws.

"I want to regret you telling me," I muttered. "But I'm grateful. It kinda makes me feel better. In a twisted way."

"I know. I can see it in your eyes."

My smile was fleeting. It came and disappeared like I had hallucinated it. I scrubbed my hand against my face instinctively. "So...back to Stockholm Central tomorrow. How do you feel?"

"Honestly? I'm relieved. Yeah, I had the best dinner of my life, and I'm sleeping in the most beautiful room,"

"But?" I added the promising word.

"It's too much for me. I'm used to the simple life now and I miss it." She sighed, rolling away to face the ceiling. "Besides, the entire place freaks me out. Bad vibes and everything."

"Yeah," I completely understood what she was saying. The prison had pain and sadness streaked across it's walls like paint and if you watched closely, it would find a way to stain your fingertips and clothes. Making you pained and saddened. A terrible place it was.

It was no wonder I felt paranoid all the time.

Suddenly, Diana leaned over to the bed side table and turned on a lamp. The room illuminated, revealing the elegant design of the studio room. I was vaguely aware of the faint scent of Dianas perfume mixing with the fleeting smell of Chinese take-out. Frank had ordered us food since we couldn't leave and risk letting anyone know Diana was here.

He was doing so much to prove his innocence. I still felt wary about him but all my feelings would be crystal clear soon. Diana reached into one of the drawers and I could hear the ruffle of papers.

She turned to me.

"I got this out while you were in the shower." Crying, I had been crying in the shower. "Almost forgot the reason why I came here in the first fucking place."

I looked down at her outstretched hand and held my breath. It was an envelope with an address and post code printed on the front of it. This was the moment of truth. I would either realise I had been paranoid and Frank was innocent, or I would realise that Dante played a bigger picture in my life than I had believed.

"Take it. You've been losing your fucking mind over the thing. Take it." Diana insisted, shaking the letter a little. I wasn't shocked she hadn't handed me an empty envelope. She probably didn't even want to touch the letters anymore.

She had informed me that Dante had ghosted her a few days ago. Not only did that heighten my suspicion, it made her more eager to know who the bastard was. I was wary when I took it from her and held it with both hands.

"Thank you."

Diana sighed. Heavily. I always knew when she was sad and this intimate moment was one of them. She was kneeling on the bed next to me and as I looked up at her from underneath the covers, I could see the film of tears on her hazel eyes.