No More Acting - Chapter 9
Cassandra at her house.
My head spun and I dropped to the floor. The beating of my heart filled the silent room. The door bell chimed again, filling the whole house. I crawled to my cordless phone that sat on my night stand and snatched it from its cradle. My hands shook as I began to dial 9-1-1. Even if it was not Kyle, it is always best to take precautions.
Once the dispatch worker answered the phone, I heard my front door burst open with a loud bang. I muffled a scream.
"Hello, 9-1-1 Emergency. What is your emergency?" The woman asked in a calm voice. I held on to that calm and ran into my closet, locking the door behind me. I could hear footsteps coming up my stairs.
"Hello?" The woman asked again, "Police and ambulance will be over momentarily." Her tone was serious and urgent.
"Help me." Was all I could manage.
"Ma'am?" The tone of the woman's voice turned panicky.
"He is in my house." I whispered, "Please, help me."
"Ok Ma'am. You will be fine. Police are almost there." The woman said, "What is your name Miss?"
"Cassandra Cummings." I said hoarsely.
"The actress, Cassandra Cummings?" She sounded surprised.
I nodded and added, "Yes."
"Wow." She said, whistling. She sighed heavily and asked, "Who is in your house Cassandra?"
I could hear him outside my door.
My heart stopped as I heard my bedroom door creak open.
"He is in my room!" I whispered frantically. My hands began to sweat and my body went cold. I began to pray.
"Who is he?" the woman asked.
"Kyle Smith."
The woman gasped as I saw the shadow of two feet standing outside the door. I dropped the phone and scrambled farther back into my closet. The doorknob wiggled slightly. Tears poured down my cheeks and I pressed my hand hard over my mouth willing myself to not to make any noise. The doorknob wiggled harder. Frantically I crawled back further into my closet stumbling over shoes and clothes on the floor.
"Cassandra?" A calm voice called from the other side of the wooden door. I did not recognize the voice. All I knew is that it was definitely not Kyle. So, where was Kyle? I honestly did not care. I scrambled to my feet and burst through the closet door crashing into the hard chest of a tall, tanned man. I gave in and started to bawl all over the man's clothes. He smelt clean and I grabbed fist fulls of his shirt, clinging to him like Velcro. The man frantically pushed me off him and I uselessly thrashed my arms out in front grasping for the man once more.
"Miss Cummings!" He yelled, "Cassandra, look like at me!" I did as he said, but I could not see him clearly past the tears. It was all a blur. I wiped at my eyes vigorously. I blinked my eyes a couple of times until I could clearly see the man's features.
First, he was a police officer. Thank God! But, his hair was shaved and was a dark auburn color. His eyes were a deep chocolate brown and his skin was a dark caramel color. He was holding me by the shoulders, away from him. He bore a mask of concern.
"Miss," he began, "are you all right?" He was looking me straight in the eye and I could see compassion in his them.
I swallowed hard, "Yes, I guess so." I sniffed and tried to get a hold of myself. I felt like an idiot. Laughing to myself I looked up at the handsome young man, "Sorry. I kind of lost it there." I looked down at my hands, they were still shaking. I clasped them tightly together to hide the shake. My heartbeat uneven and my forehead was beaded with sweat. I laughed softly once more, hysterical. I could feel the man's gaze held steadily on me. I looked up to him to see him smiling. I was struck with pure awe. His white teeth contrasted with his toasty caramel skin, making them pop. He chuckled softly and I snapped out of my reverie, once more looking down at my hands, embarrassed. I could feel the heat rush to my cheeks.
"So," he began, "What is all this about?"
I looked up at the boy, reminded of what had just happened. "I am doing a movie with Kyle Smith." I began. I had so much to say that I could barely keep track of everything. "We had a thing for a while, and I let it get to my head I guess. I just got out of the hospital this morning with bruising on my arms, in the shape of strong hands." I looked down holding back tears, "He told me that he was trying to stop me from falling down the stairs; that I had fallen on unconscious from whacking my head off the railing." I took a shuddering breath. "He lied."
The man gave me a weird look. Had they not found the blood yet? I pushed past the police officer, who quickly followed me into the hall. Once again, I stared down at the red smear on my floor. I let the tears over flow. I looked up at him.
"I didn't hit my head off the railing." He stared at me horrified, "He threw me against the door frame and I cracked my head open!" I pointed viciously towards the blood stained carpet, "I fell to the ground! He got on top of me, and drugged me! He drugged me!" My anger flared, and my tears were out of control. I fell hard onto my knees and slowly sat up against the wall. My fierce sobs filled the house and hallway. The officer stood there and stared, holding his chin. He smiled sympathetically at me and I glared at him.
"What do you want?" I spat, unable to control my words. I blinked and he smiled larger. Did he find this funny? My face grew hot.
"Who are you?" I blurted, standing up and matching his tall frame. It enraged me seeing this man smiling at me in one of my most devastating moments of my life.
He chuckled, "My name is Miguel." He held out his hand, "I am here to help you."
Still partially annoyed, I reluctantly held out my hand to receive the firm hand of Miguel. Honestly, it felt really nice to have someone I could trust.
I could not help but think of where Kyle was now. Was he hiding in the brush somewhere watching? Does he have cameras set up in my house?
I tried to push those hostile thoughts aside and regain all my strength from the warm, firm hand that I held on to for dear life.
Once the dispatch worker answered the phone, I heard my front door burst open with a loud bang. I muffled a scream.
"Hello, 9-1-1 Emergency. What is your emergency?" The woman asked in a calm voice. I held on to that calm and ran into my closet, locking the door behind me. I could hear footsteps coming up my stairs.
"Hello?" The woman asked again, "Police and ambulance will be over momentarily." Her tone was serious and urgent.
"Help me." Was all I could manage.
"Ma'am?" The tone of the woman's voice turned panicky.
"He is in my house." I whispered, "Please, help me."
"Ok Ma'am. You will be fine. Police are almost there." The woman said, "What is your name Miss?"
"Cassandra Cummings." I said hoarsely.
"The actress, Cassandra Cummings?" She sounded surprised.
I nodded and added, "Yes."
"Wow." She said, whistling. She sighed heavily and asked, "Who is in your house Cassandra?"
I could hear him outside my door.
My heart stopped as I heard my bedroom door creak open.
"He is in my room!" I whispered frantically. My hands began to sweat and my body went cold. I began to pray.
"Who is he?" the woman asked.
"Kyle Smith."
The woman gasped as I saw the shadow of two feet standing outside the door. I dropped the phone and scrambled farther back into my closet. The doorknob wiggled slightly. Tears poured down my cheeks and I pressed my hand hard over my mouth willing myself to not to make any noise. The doorknob wiggled harder. Frantically I crawled back further into my closet stumbling over shoes and clothes on the floor.
"Cassandra?" A calm voice called from the other side of the wooden door. I did not recognize the voice. All I knew is that it was definitely not Kyle. So, where was Kyle? I honestly did not care. I scrambled to my feet and burst through the closet door crashing into the hard chest of a tall, tanned man. I gave in and started to bawl all over the man's clothes. He smelt clean and I grabbed fist fulls of his shirt, clinging to him like Velcro. The man frantically pushed me off him and I uselessly thrashed my arms out in front grasping for the man once more.
"Miss Cummings!" He yelled, "Cassandra, look like at me!" I did as he said, but I could not see him clearly past the tears. It was all a blur. I wiped at my eyes vigorously. I blinked my eyes a couple of times until I could clearly see the man's features.
First, he was a police officer. Thank God! But, his hair was shaved and was a dark auburn color. His eyes were a deep chocolate brown and his skin was a dark caramel color. He was holding me by the shoulders, away from him. He bore a mask of concern.
"Miss," he began, "are you all right?" He was looking me straight in the eye and I could see compassion in his them.
I swallowed hard, "Yes, I guess so." I sniffed and tried to get a hold of myself. I felt like an idiot. Laughing to myself I looked up at the handsome young man, "Sorry. I kind of lost it there." I looked down at my hands, they were still shaking. I clasped them tightly together to hide the shake. My heartbeat uneven and my forehead was beaded with sweat. I laughed softly once more, hysterical. I could feel the man's gaze held steadily on me. I looked up to him to see him smiling. I was struck with pure awe. His white teeth contrasted with his toasty caramel skin, making them pop. He chuckled softly and I snapped out of my reverie, once more looking down at my hands, embarrassed. I could feel the heat rush to my cheeks.
"So," he began, "What is all this about?"
I looked up at the boy, reminded of what had just happened. "I am doing a movie with Kyle Smith." I began. I had so much to say that I could barely keep track of everything. "We had a thing for a while, and I let it get to my head I guess. I just got out of the hospital this morning with bruising on my arms, in the shape of strong hands." I looked down holding back tears, "He told me that he was trying to stop me from falling down the stairs; that I had fallen on unconscious from whacking my head off the railing." I took a shuddering breath. "He lied."
The man gave me a weird look. Had they not found the blood yet? I pushed past the police officer, who quickly followed me into the hall. Once again, I stared down at the red smear on my floor. I let the tears over flow. I looked up at him.
"I didn't hit my head off the railing." He stared at me horrified, "He threw me against the door frame and I cracked my head open!" I pointed viciously towards the blood stained carpet, "I fell to the ground! He got on top of me, and drugged me! He drugged me!" My anger flared, and my tears were out of control. I fell hard onto my knees and slowly sat up against the wall. My fierce sobs filled the house and hallway. The officer stood there and stared, holding his chin. He smiled sympathetically at me and I glared at him.
"What do you want?" I spat, unable to control my words. I blinked and he smiled larger. Did he find this funny? My face grew hot.
"Who are you?" I blurted, standing up and matching his tall frame. It enraged me seeing this man smiling at me in one of my most devastating moments of my life.
He chuckled, "My name is Miguel." He held out his hand, "I am here to help you."
Still partially annoyed, I reluctantly held out my hand to receive the firm hand of Miguel. Honestly, it felt really nice to have someone I could trust.
I could not help but think of where Kyle was now. Was he hiding in the brush somewhere watching? Does he have cameras set up in my house?
I tried to push those hostile thoughts aside and regain all my strength from the warm, firm hand that I held on to for dear life.
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