Kiana

"Kiaora Kiana, I have some news for you!" Kate says, in a sing-song voice over the telephone. Uh oh. Her news. 

Whenever she had news, it usually meant sending me blind into something she knows will either "benefit" me or her. 

And I mean it. The blind part. 

One time she sent me to her dad's party simply because she was busy being hungover (after another party she had attended) and still spending time decorating her house to introduce her boyfriend to her parents, since they hadn't seen him before and she wanted a good occasion to introduce him.

Anyway, I had gone to her party since she was a friend and I owed her, so there went me and my favor. 

Let's just say, in the end, her dad was more shocked at meeting me than at seeing her boyfriend kiss someone else, and even take home later. 

So much for swapping places.

Anyway enough remembering douche ex-boy-toys. Onto the new memories. 

"Kiaora Kate, what do you want to throw me into this time?" I roll my eyes over her laughter at my words. 

"Gosh Kiana, no need to be so rude. And I'm not throwing you into anything, you know I do things for you, because I love you and consider you my sista, and want you to be happy. You have got to stop throwing me under the bus for that one time." Kate says, in an annoyed voice, huffing slightly into my ear. 

"You know, I've every right to throw you under the bus for what you did to me back then. Your dad thought I was trying to flirt with him and trying to get with him, because of my imaginary "fetish" towards older men. God, Kate. Do you know how embarrassing and humiliating that is? Clearly he thought I'd been desperate and out of guys at my age. I really doubt that was possible." I say to her, my own annoyance coming out in short waves. 

“Okay you’re right. About that fact at least. But you know, because of your going, I got to avoid Chad’s cheating and break up with him, right on the face once he showed up to my house.” Kate points out. 

“Yeah well, it’s not fun being your spycam and swap buddy. Go find someone else for that shit.” I say in a matter-of-factly voice. 

“Fine, fine promise, I won’t drag you into this, again.” Kate sighs loudly over the phone. 

“Good. Now what’s your news all about?” I ask. 

“Well my news is that I found a date for you! Isn’t that great?” She exclaims, and with a smile I’m sure is so big that it would probably hurt if she kept it for long. 

Ah, blind dates. My worst enemy.

Dates were good, fab, especially if you later got to wham-bam it all and then leave, and still be on good terms enough to go out for a second one.

But blind dates. Blind dates ruined it all, especially in my experience. 

Firstly, you’re not even sure who your date is. You’re standing there, on your porch, like an idiot and wondering why you signed up at all. 

And when your date finally shows up, with apologies hanging onto his every sentence, you then leave, after having wasted 15 minutes extra and getting late to your reservation.

And then the hat-trick to it all, when the date doesn’t even ask how you are, how’s life for you, your hobbies, instead too busy indulging you about themselves. 

That’s when you finally kill your friends for enlightening you on a suggestion like a blind date. 

Only Kate knows about the last disaster. With that one guy. 

I still shiver at what he tried with me, barely after our date had begun. 

“Kate, I’ve got plans already. You know my weekends are booked.” I lie to her, knowing full well that my weekends had nothing special in them, only netflix and Nora Roberts novels waiting for me. 

“Pray tell, Kiana, what could those plans possibly involve?” She asks me in a know-it-all tone, a tone she only uses when she knows when one of us friends is lying to her. 

And she knows I hate that tone.

“Kate, what are you trying to imply here?” I ask her, exasperation evident in my voice.

“The fact that you’re trying to get out this date, after that one time. Why are you always so negative, and holding on to the past for these things?” Kate confronts me in that voice.

She wasn’t wrong. But I had my trepidations about dating.

Dating was really not my thing, I was the loner girl in the group of our friends. I’d rather have my friends over than have to deal with a thing called romance. 

It worked fine that way.

I learned a lot from my own life and friends. Guys were just not my thing. 

Not that they weren’t good enough for a one night stand or two.

But I was done with it all. I had my responsibilities and being shit-faced after dealing with a disastrous blind date did not go well together.

“Hello?” Kate asked, the frustration evident in her voice.

“Oh sorry Kate, just remembering something.” I mumble to her, knowing full well she’d pester me about that.

“You’ve got to let that go, K. Dates don’t always suck. And I promise us girls will be with you. It’s a quartet date, you hear me? None of these musketeers leaving you alone and lost.” Kate says, the happy bug in her holding on tight.

“Well as much as I appreciate those words, I have work to get to. Maybe next saturday? I am just not feeling it tonight. Raincheck?” I ask, my voice gone small at the thought of being out and about.

Kate, the ever-understanding friend replies: “Yeah sure girl, as Charlie Puth sang once, I am one call away. You be right.” 

And with that, she hangs up.

Now I am left alone, wondering what to do with my time. 

But honestly it’s just much better to have my own time as well. I mean how many people get their me-time? I should consider myself lucky for that.

Tired of thinking things, I open up my laptop and work through some of the files sent over by Mr Carter. 

Nothing beats some sweet time with the french language - the language of love.

After an hour or so of sweet talking with the language of love, I yawn, my eyes tired after going cross-eyed over poring over work online.

Joys of working online.

I ready myself to go to bed, the clock striking 1 am in the morning. My mood was more ruined at the thought of not finishing another novel and having my routine all changed up without warning.

Something to get used to, I suppose. 

I walk towards my bedroom, the thoughts of sleep not leaving my mind.

Tucked in bed, I drift off to sleep soon after.

-

At 3 am, I hear a door opening. 

My eyes immediately flutter open, and my hand automatically grabs for my phone.

Shit, how did this happen?

Who the hell is groping around in my house?

I immediately call the police on my phone.

“Police, how can we help you?” 

“Hello, this is Kiana Knight, and someone is in my house.”

“What is your address, Madam?”

“My address is 10 Belaruge Rise, East of Caminksi.”

“A police car has just been dispatched, just hold on tight ma'am. It will be there within 5 minutes.”

“Thank you.”

With that, I hang up. And call Kate.

“I apologize to whoever you are, but this is not the domestic abuse hotline. But if you really need help now, I can try to help. This is Kate speaking.” My friend answers helpfully, but the sleep in her voice is clear.

“Kate, this is me, Kiana. Someone is in my house and I have no idea what they are looking for. I called the police but there are still 4 minutes left in their coming here. What should I do?” I ask, the terror in my voice speaking loud and clear.

“Holy crap Kiana. Okay, calm down first and try to look for a spot anywhere in your room where you can hide, and it’s not that obvious. And wait for the police. Do not do a dumb thing like look around for the burglar. They could be dangerous and you could get hurt. Do you understand?” Kate says.

“Yeah I understand. I know a spot where I can wait. Can you stay with me on the line though? I understand it’s not really convenient but I don’t want to cause more problems and I hate being alone in a situation like this.” I answer, suddenly feeling like the most alone person in the world.

“I got your back, girl. Don’t ever have to ask me to do anything, I am always up to bat.” She tells me, the calm in her voice soothing me in turn. 

We wait then, she hearing me breathe and vice versa, the anticipation causing me stomach aches and headaches.

The person in question, meanwhile continues walking around in the house, probably too confident or unaware that someone might accidentally want to be home on Saturday.

“Kate, I think he might be getting closer to my room. It’s not like this place is a mansion.” I whisper, the panic in my voice coming front.

“Kiana, first of all stop panicking. Second, grab something heavy, heavy enough for the impact, but somewhat light so you can hold. I mean none of us really trained for being boxers, you know? So go easy on your arm.” Kate instructs me, the sleep now clear from her words.

I look around, the closet light leaving enough light for me to spot a heavy candelabra in the corner of my bookshelf. 

My mother was fond of antiques, even when she was gone, I made sure to keep it nice and original to what it used to look like. Obviously a lot of work, but it was worth my mother’s love for it.

Grabbing the candelabra, I sneak over to the door, my footsteps tiptoeing to not make noise. My breathing comes out fast, my hands sweating, the anxiety of possibly killing a burglar in my house a new low point I thought I’d never reach.

But you know what they say.

Everyone’s gotta go down under, reach to the low point you thought you never could reach. A new adventure awaits, and you may just like it.

Doubt in my case, it would apply.

“Kiana!” I hear Kate screaming through my phone.

Shit, clearly I got too much into the role of playing Bond.

“Kate, geez, calm down. I was just preparing myself to face the burglar. Calm it.” I say, worried that the prowler hadn’t heard anything and wasn’t coming here.

“If you could put your Bond act to the side, then you would listen, no?” Her sarcasm layers thick in her tone. 

Clearly, there’s no escaping her and her somehow accurate vision of what I was doing. Damn it.

“Fine, sorry, I am just confused and anxious over this entire matter. It feels weird having someone in this house here, specially when I am alone most of the time. And I don’t like it Kate, it gives me the creeps.” I shiver, trying to rid the feeling of the prowler being close to this room.

“It’s okay Kitkat, no one is ever prepared for these situations, even if you watch all the crime shows you can possibly get your hands on.” Kate advises me in a motherly tone. 

The sound of footsteps comes closer as I continue talking to Kate.

“Crap. Kate, I think the burglar found me. I’m dead, I’m finished, I’m kaput, I tell you.” My voice gets hysterical, with every sound I hear.

“Hush! Geez, just try and hide somewhere. I’ll try to locate the phone number of the police. Just hold on.” Kate assures me, disappearing somewhere meanwhile, probably to get to her other phone.

I take her advice and try to find a place to hide, looking all around me with no luck.

This is insane. What could a burglar possibly find in this average home? Not like I have diamonds, jewels or any rich item to hide here.

I stumble around in the dark for a flashlight or some nook or cranny to hide in from my possible nightmare.

After a long time of consistent stumbling and falling, I finally find a flashlight, turn it on and find a place to hide in.

As I try and fail to get comfortable under a chest of drawers in my closet, my phone rings.

“Hello?” The voice asks, after I’ve found my phone and pick up the call.

“Hi, Kate. Did you call the police? I would’ve, but the strength had left me completely…”

“It’s fine. I did..they’re coming over soon. Just hang on.”

“Alright, but don’t hang up, it’s scary right now alone, being alone.”

I’m here with you. Just hold on.”

Silence comes from both our ends, each waiting for either the burglar to find and bury me six feet deep, or the police to find me first, or worse the police find me dead.

After what seems like hours, but only minutes gone, I hear sirens. Police sirens coming my way.

“They’re here!” Kate shouts from her end.

Thank god. I get to live to see another day in this messed up world. Thank god.