Don't Touch by Elise VanCise

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enough. “Take me home and let’s see what that tube of lipstick has
to say.”
     
    Thomas left a tip on the table. “You don’t
have to do this tonight. We can go back at it in the morning.”
     
    Ryan was determined at this point. “Nope I’m
doing this tonight. It’s the one piece I fear the most. If I wait
until morning, I won’t sleep a wink for worrying about it. I have
to face it now before my mind has a chance to work on the
idea.”
     
     
    Sitting on her bed for a while she talked
herself up. Jack and Tom looked up when she came out of the bedroom
with the hospital bag, her name scrawled on the outside. “This
stuff has been in here over a year and no fresh air. Could be
hazardous.”
     
    The jokes were to cover up her shaking hands
as she dumped the bag on the dining room table. Sorting through the
stuff, scrubs, badge, three pens and a pencil, change for the
vending machine, her scrub jacket. There was something in the
jacket pocket. The tube. She turned the pocket up and it clattered
to the table.
     
    Ryan was distracted from the object when
Jackson held up a lacy bra grinning like a letch. “Do you still
wear ones like this? Nice.”
    She snatched it from his hands turning red.
Thomas snickered breaking the tension. “You are both rotten.”
    Ryan turned her attention back to the tube,
it was just like the others. A sliver twist tube and cap with the
brand mark stamped in. No way was she going to sit down for this
one. It took her to the floor once before. It felt like stepping
into the ring for a fight. Jackson moved behind her, he would catch
her if she fell.
     
    Her fingers wrapped around the object. The
vision came easily only not as fast. This time she was able to
understand what was happening. Jillian looked in the mirror trying
to smooth the color on her lips but she was shaking. The killer
held the mirror. Ryan’s heart began to pound. She could see him. He
wore a ski mask the only feature she could see were his eyes. They
were sky blue with light crow’s feet around them.
     
    She could feel Jillian’s fear as if it was
her own. It was consuming her as he watched Jillian. Ryan had to
push it away. The killer grabbed her hand and violently took the
lipstick from her. He held her arm squeezing. Ryan started panting
in fright, she heard Jackson in the distance telling her to let
go.
     
    Ryan felt someone trying to open her hand but
she held tighter. The concern for her in those prying fingers was
enough to hold the emotions back so she could think. Ryan
physically pushed out with her arms in an effort to push herself
away from Jillian. It worked.
     
    She was looking at the scene almost as if she
were on a film set. The killer had Jillian by the arm putting on
the lipstick. “That is how you do it!” He shouted at her. She was
wearing the jeans, a tee, and hoodie. He was angry with her, more
than the others. Jillian fought him, struggled. It was enough
suddenly the knife was there and before he was ready to do it the
blade was plunging into her flesh.
     
    Ryan jumped and opened her mouth to scream
but realized it wasn’t like the first time. She was only watching.
The fear she felt was her own at the horrific sight. She had to
know what happens next. Jillian was screaming but no one came to
her aid. Ryan couldn’t watch anymore so she looked around the two
people. They were in a double wide trailer; all of the flooring was
that ugly 1970’s vinyl.
     
    Blood was running into the worn grooves. The
table was a square, wooden with the barrel chairs. Her heart was
pounding in her ears so loud she couldn’t hear poor Jillian
anymore. The fridge had notes tacked to it. She tried to focus on
the lettering but it was too far away. The blood was running to her
feet, there was a lot of it.
     
    The vision flashed and she dropped the tube
trying to step back away from the running fluid. Stumbling backward
she fell into Jackson who lowered her gently to a chair.
     
    He grabbed a paper