The Resistance

CHAPTER FIVE | “My People Comin For You, Bitch”

-PLANET FYVE- | Dr Moira Levy

So...This all happened extremely fast. In a blur...

I couldn’t sleep. I hadn’t been to work. I didn’t feel like myself. I heard Randy mention an investigation going on at the California Girls Prep School. Something about missing girls. Again...up to this very moment on Crenshaw, a blur. I initially hadn’t left the bed since I left that diner.

Something...SOMETHING just didn’t sit well with me. Maybe hearing that my husband was cheating on me was keeping me mentally bound. That’s how I felt. Mentally bound to myself. Unable to do anything but think.

What clinic?

CLINIC FOR WHAT?

I found myself today rummaging through the house in a daze. Dressing myself without blinking. Silencing my phone before heading out the door. My mother had called. Randy. One unknown number back to back. 4 times. And my mother in law. Lady Gladys Anald. But I couldn’t think straight enough to hold a pleasant conversation.

Being on Crenshaw at 11am, by myself, obviously wasn’t a great idea. I thought of that blatant fact as I rode through the already extremely busy streets. But, what overwhelmingly distracted me were the flowers outside of the diner as I approached it now, parked and on foot. Moving briskly across the pavement. One block across the other. The flowers beckoning to me.

Flowers of all kinds. Vibrant. Illuminating the impoverished area. Quite literally everywhere. Perched outside the diners front door and expanding outward. Lined up inside of the door. Taped to the windows.

Everywhere.

There were people standing in large crowds and lines engulfing the diner in silence. It almost resembled a memorial. Everyone with their heads hanging down. Tears. Children and women sporadically wailing off into the distance. Out into the sphere that cocooned the diner. I didn’t understand it honestly. And I didn’t care. I just needed to see the older woman from the bathroom.

And that I did.

As soon as I stepped inside of the diner I was greeted with a massive banner. The woman, a Sheila Daniels, was dead. Is basically what this banner says in so many words. My fingers ran smoothly across the sunrise word. Sunset. The time. The burial details. She was dead. It’s been 4 days I thought randomly. And...She was dead.

Suddenly reeling with nausea I stumbled further into the diner, every single eye on me. In silence.

“I—-I just needed to use the restroom and pick up an order. I’m so sorry for—-“ I sputtered. Overwhelmed with nervousness.

“Bitch. How fucking dare you...” I heard lowly from the register. I stared at the parting crowd watching the waitress from our lunch date four days ago. The girl with the attitude. Keisha. I watched Keisha pushing threw the crowd, literally climbing on top of the counter, hopping down the other side to walk up to me.

“How FUCKING dare YOU, BITCH!” She screamed. Reaching toward me with claw like hands. I stared wide eyed in horror not immediately processing what was even going on. What I had done.

“You KILLED her! It was you! You and Randy! Wish I never fucking met him but YOU bitch?! How dare you show yo fucking face in here!!!”

It wasn’t until I felt myself being pulled to the ground that I snapped into action, grabbing her arms as they pummeled into the top of my head. Being jerked back and forth, feeling strands of hair being ripped clean from my scalp. My screams didn’t even sound like me.

“Somebody grab Keisha, yall come on. We don’t need no problems. Not today, come on GRAB HER!” I hear, relieved. Falling backwards being lifted from the diner. Hearing Keisha’s guttural hollers of sorrow and angst. Sitting on the ground outside looking at the door, closed tight as if I had never walked through. Looking around seeing the crowd was long gone. That the flowers were no longer there. It was as if I’d imagined the whole ordeal. Until I saw her.

Walking from across the vacant street, I qawked on in horror as the freshly deceased Sheila Daniels strutted quickly across, covered in blood. Brisk staggering steps. One eye swollen shut, hair matted all over her head in deep red clumps. Flesh dropping from the gaping wound, hitting the pavement in loud audible splats. Left arm bent at an impossible angle. Jutting outward, but...caved in and completely twisted backwards. She moved with rage. Hobbling over to me with determination.

Flopping her arm upward she threw a pointed gesture in my direction. Finger curling downward but still....pointing at me.

“You better pray to your white god Moira” she shrieked wild and high, like a banshee. Voice echoing out into the now empty street. Swirling in the wind and easing into my ears like a hoarse whisper.

“Wait-you know my name?” I sputtered.

“You better pray Lady Anald can save you little girl.” She was now in my face kneeling in front of me wiping my tears as I was in a full blown weeping session after hearing her say my name. My husband mother’s name.

“How do you—-“ I groaned.

Continuously wiping my face she shushed me.

“I’m saying this cause I know you just a body in the middle of a riot but baby...you not gone survive without Lady Anald. Go home. Call her. And stay away from this side of town. My people comin for you bitch. They is COMIN. Just as sure as my name is...”

“Hey! Get up! Come on out the way.” I heard as I was pulled up from the ground. Glancing around seeing the crowd and flowers. Shivering and in tears. Confused. I felt my face. I don’t know why. Making sure I was real, I guess?...

“You saw her out here didn’t you? You saw the old lady?...” the voice asked softly.

I nodded before glancing up into the face of my mother in law...

TBC