Tony

Tony

By Jayhawk930

                I’ve traveled nearly half the country in a matter of hours, racing forward with little thought for food or toilet, certainly not for sleep.  If the damned mail hadn’t been so slow I would have known about this blasted reunion days ago.  But no, I had to push my wheezing Camry across field and desert at breakneck speeds (not really, the damned thing tops out at ninety on a good day anymore) and live on the hope that I’ll make it before everyone I know goes home.

         I’m looking for Tony.  Seven years I’ve been looking for the bastard.  A friend of his told me that he went to prison at one point and that was the last anyone heard from him, but I never found any proof of incarceration online.  He seemed to have disappeared.

         Seven years spent wondering what I was supposed to do with the knowledge I happened upon three years after graduation, that the asshole I trusted as a friend had raped my fiance – and not only raped her, but managed to kill my unborn child, one she had yet to tell me about, as he rained blow after blow into her stomach.

         Why? I’ll never know, not completely – though I plan to make him tell me something, even if he has to make it up.  I’m not sure that he’ll even be here, though a mutual acquaintance assures me that he will.

         Seven years.  I’ve lost my job.  I can’t stay in a relationship, I’m too “obsessed” my doctor says.  But I’m here now.  The reunion.  And it looks like everyone’s still here.

         And is that…?  Over there, with the red cheeks and mop of long hair?

         I better end now.  I need to go.