The key

Imagine you woke up one morning with a key clasped tightly in your hand. How did this key come to be in your possession? More important, what does it unlock?1

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Crash.2

The alarm clock hit the wall and fell silent to the floor in pieces. Groaning, I sit up awkwardly with my head spinning. My room was bright and when I glance at the wall clock, I see it was nearing noon. Groaning again, I rub my eyes with the back of my hands and noticed I held something. Cursing quietly, I uncurled my hand to find a bloody key in my palm. My hand had held the key so tightly it had cut into my skin and my whole palm was crimson from it. Gently taking the key out of the wound, I set it on my night stand and get up. I nearly fell back down, a splitting headache coming upon me. It wasn't until I had cleaned and wrapped the gash did I notice how utterly disgusting my bathroom was. It smelled horrible and I suddenly realized why. Slapping the counter with my healed hand, I make a funny noise in my throat and stare at myself in the mirror. A dark bruise was forming under my right eye and I gingerly touch it, wincing from the shock it sent me. Dante had left last night after he found out about my acquaintance with Varick. He thought I was cheating on him and he's normally very violent, but when he found out about that he almost killed me. I surprised I can actually walk, I kind of figured he broke my legs. Leaning against the counter, I yank my sleeves up to stare at the my arms, shadows forming on them. It was the same on my back, stomach, and legs. Quickly leaving the bathroom, the smell was getting to me, I go back to sit on my bed. The room was a mess, stuff broken and overturned. I sigh and put my head in my hands. 3

Then I suddenly remembered. The key. Turning my head slightly I stare at the crimson-gold key that sat on my nightstand. I wondered where it came from and how it ending up in my hand. Carefully pulling myself over to the night stand, I lift the key up and stare down at it. Using the sleeve of my shirt, I clean it off until I saw there were words on it, not English but in some strange curvy language. The phone rings and I jump, dropping the key. It hits the carpeted floor with a clank. I fumble to pick up the cordless phone and press talk. The voice at the other end was familiar and had a worried tone to it.4

"Thank God, Andria! I've called you almost seven times. You never picked up and neither did your message machine. What up?"5

"Hello Varick," I say in a scratchy voice, a tad bit angry. It was because of my minor acquaintance with him that I was like this. I clench my teeth and shake my head. It's not his fault.6

"What happened? You sound horrible."7

"Well thanks. Dante left me... here." I catch myself. He sighs loudly on the other end.8

"I'm coming over. Don't worry. Bye." He said that all quickly and hung up before I could protest. Taking the phone from my ear, I stare down at the key pad. Punching the redial button, I put it back to my ear and listened to the ring for more then nine times before the message machine picked up. Growling, I slam the phone down into the cradle. I stand, taking my time so that I didn't feel anything but numbness, and take a step forward. Crying out, I lift my foot and glare down at the key. It glittered up from the tan carpet with a smirk on its face, I swear. Bending, I scoop it up and dump it in the breast pocket of my shirt. Stumbling slowly through the destruction, I fall lightly against my apartment's front door and lean against it. Locking all the bolts, I slid to a sit and sigh.   9

Outside my door I heard one of the doors of my neighbors open and then shut. A knock came on my door. It was the old woman, Mrs. Jennies, who lived two doors down. She called out my name and I could tell she was worried. I sigh deeply.10

"I'm hear Mrs. Jennies," I say.11

"Oh, it's good to hear your voice. He stormed out of here and threatened me about called the police. I'm sorry dear," her voice sounded muffled and I look down at my hands. If he can break my bones, I wonder what he could do to that poor old lady who lives widowed with three fat, gray cats. Pulling my self up with the help of the doorknob, I unbolt the bolts and pull the door open a bit to stare out at her. Mrs. Jennies stood in her faded pink bathrobe and slippers. Her silvery hair was up in a bun and she held one of her cats. The one she held was Henry, I think. She let out a little gasp and her free hand went to cover her mouth.12

"Poor dear, he did you good last night?" She questions softly letting out a little sigh. I grin slightly. 13

"I do believe he's gone for good now, but yah," I say, rubbing the back of my head. I thought of something then. Reaching with my clean hand into my breast pocket, I pull out the key and hold it our for her to see. Peering down at it, she reached into her own breast pocket for a pair of reading glasses. 14

"Do you know where this could've possible came from?" I ask. She drops Henry, who mews loudly and darts through my legs into my apartment. She takes it from my palm and turns it around, peering closely with the glasses on the tip of her nose. 15

"I'm not sure honny. The writing on here's not like anything I've ever seen." She looks up at me over her glasses. "You should go to the library to find out. How long has it been since you've been somewhere other then the store?" She asked me. She was starting to sound like my late mother. Maybe she was channeling her spirit. I shrug slightly and rub the back of my neck. She hands me back the key and I drop it back in its pocket.16

"I don't know. Probably about three years or something," I met Dante when I got out of college and I was 21 when I graduated from Yale. He was 25 and just graduated from some college, I can't remember which. We started going out. He was a nice guy at first, bought me stuff for nothing and took me to the movies. He used to do stupid things for me. He changed though after a vacation to Europe. He then wanted something for the stuff he gave me. I don't know what happened to him in Europe, but he had hardened and wasn't the guy I remembered. It then evolved in to something I never thought I would ever get involved in. He kept me locked up and abused me constantly. Physically, sexually, and mentally. I never had a way out. Whenever I actually got to go somewhere, it was to the store with him. Before we never had a phone, so I couldn't find any help there. We just got the phone installed a couple of weeks ago. 17

It was about three weeks ago when on a trip with Dante to the store I saw Varick. He stared at me a while and then when Dante left to get something in the next isle, he came up to talk to me. He could only get a hello in before I shooed him off because Dante came back. The next time we went to the store, he was back. This time he gave me a little piece of paper with his number on it. I guess he could tell something bad was going on between Dante and me, I don't know how. Up until the last and hopefully final beating, he had been very careful about not leaving anything visible to the public eyes for those little outings. The first night after we got the phone, I waited until Dante was asleep and called Varick. I don't know why I trusted him, but I told him everything about what goes on in my little apartment. Whenever Dante left me for a couple of hours during the day (I don't know what he did during that time) I'd either talk to Varick or go over to talk to Mrs. Jennies. Mrs. Jennies knew without me telling about what went on and I also knew her before Dante got violent. I guess it was the phone bill that got in Dante's mind that I was cheating on him with some "phone guy." 18

"Andria?" Mrs. Jennies's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I look up at her. She had a little smile on her face.19

"If you're really free from him, then I want to ask you something," she says whistling softly. Henry the cat darts past me and hops lightly up Mrs. Jennies arm and onto her shoulder. I nod slightly.20

"Would you come with me tomorrow to the store? After that we can go to the library," she inquires. I bit my lip. 21

"Sure, why not?" I say and the smile on her face broadens.22

"Ok! I'll knock around nine and we'll go. Perhaps I'll also take you out shopping or to a cafe.." she mutters turning to hobble back to her apartment. I stand there, watching her as she pushes her door open and shuffles in. She shuts it and I hear the bolts being locked. Sighing once more, I lean against the doorway and stare out blankly a moment before pulling back into my room and shutting the door behind me. I bolt all the locks and stumble back over to the phone. Dialing Varick's number, I let it ring for nine times before the answer machine picked up. 23

"Varick. Please don't come. I know you've been wanted to come over to give Dante a piece of your mind, but he's not here so don't come." I pause. "I don't want you to see me. Damnit Varick. I know you're on your way here. You just piss me off sometimes." I growl, slamming the phone down. Putting my elbow on the night stand, I rub my face and stare through my fingers at the phone. My head still hurt, but by now it was just a dull throb. There comes a knock on the door. Moaning slightly, I slid from the bed and hobble over to the door. Peering through the peephole, I let out a little gasp. It was Varick looking like a knight in shining armor with his golden hair and bouquet of bright flowers. His dark green eyes looked around the door, but never looked exactly where the peephole was. 24

"Go away," I say and his eyes swerve to stare at mine. 25

"Andria, please..." I cut him off.26

"No! Varick, I don't want you to see me like this." I say. He lets out a sigh, his face dropping. Crouching, he disappears from my view and then stands, the flowers gone. He smiles slightly, turns and walks down the hall. He walked funny, I never noticed it before. Once the elevator door blocked him from view, I lay my head against the door and sigh. Reaching over, I unbolt the door and take a step back. Staring down at the flowers, I felt as if I was going to cry. Nobody has given me flowers in so long... Bending, I pick them up and shut the door behind me. Leaning against the door, I smell them and let out a breath of air. In the center of the bouquet was a blood red rose, my favorite kind of flower. Bolting the door, I stumble into the kitchen to find a vase. 27