There is probably spelling errors in abundance. Reviews appreciated; comments and suggestions welcome.
Tomorrow Does Not Exist – Block I; Part V
By: Joseph Dean
©2008.12.27
I always found magnetism interesting, how one solid force could have so much control over another. Magnets can attract, repel, and even destroy an object, but humans can, too – even dead humans. Magnetic poles are generally attractive to each other, pulling closer until they are one stable entity, inseparable to outside compulsions weaker than it. But what if there was nothing stronger? Would the two be linked together for eternity, never to normalise?
Tara was my magnet. Her death, or more exactly the way she died, was so compelling. As I lied on the hotel bed, the sun beginning to shine through the window, those few seconds, her last few seconds, kept replaying in my mind.
People always say that whatever the first thing on your mind is when you wake up in the morning is what you are supposed to do. I’m pretty sure they mean that occupation-wise. Scary. That morning I clearly remember wanting that emotional high once more, that feeling I only slightly tasted each time I thought back to the previous day. Did that mean that I was meant to do whatever it took to obtain it? To kill once again? I could not bring myself to think that I could willingly end yet another life only to receive pleasure in return. What an absurd thought.
Jacob lay motionless on his bed. The digital clock on the nightstand between us read 7:47. We needed to start our day early, keep trying to get as far away from Material as possible. I slowly removed myself from the soft mattress. Even though the smell was unpleasant, I could not say that the bed did not feel heavenly.
There were footsteps outside, atop the pavement on the other side of our door. Back and forth they went, not stopping, not leaving. I reached down and carefully retrieved the knife; the handle still fit so perfectly. I walked to the window and slowly peeked around the curtain. The maid was sweeping the small path in front of the motel rooms, her shoes making distinct tapping noises with the ground. I sighed and placed the knife back into my jeans pocket, still surprised that I had not unintentionally stabbed myself yet.
I quietly walked to the bathroom; I heard Jacob roll over. I shut the door and turned to stare at the shower blankly for a few seconds. Neither of us had taken a shower since we left Connell’s.
This is wasting time, I thought as the water began flowing from the showerhead.
The clock read 8:00 when I re-entered the main room. Jacob was no longer asleep, sitting with his knees to his chest, staring absently at the wall in front of him.
“Are you okay?” I cautiously asked him; there could have been so many things wrong with him.
“Hungry,” he muttered. I agreed.
“Go clean up,” I told him. “I’ll go get breakfast while you’re in the shower.”
His head rose; the absentmindedness vanished completely. I think he did not believe I would follow through on the promise I made before about us eating in the morning. He rolled off the bed and walked past me, still trying to get the sleep out of his eyes.
I took in a deep breath; I felt better now. I shut and locked the door behind me as I exited the room. I couldn’t return to the same restaurant; their sign showed they did not open until eleven. I stood in front of the eatery’s locked entrance, looking around at all of the buildings. Surely there was one open.
“Gabe’s is always a good choice,” the female voice behind me said. I stiffened; a chill ran down my spine. Her voice was unsettling but at the same time very pleasant. I turned to see its owner. She was about my height, a few inches less than six feet. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Cheery complexion. Typical.
“Excuse me?” I replied, completely forgetting what she had said.
She smiled. “If you’re looking for a place to eat,” she repeated, “Gabe’s over there is open twenty-four hours.” She pointed to a small white building diagonal to our position.
“Oh,” I muttered. “Thanks,” I told her.
Her grin expanded as a laugh escaped. “I’m Kaley, by the way. Kaley Brandt.” She extended her hand.
What was I to do? Should I have told her my real name? I did not know this girl; I did not know who she knew. What if Connell had sent her? What if she was related to Sharon? She looked like it. I reached out and returned the handshake.
“Nice to meet you,” I mumbled and headed for the indicated restaurant.
“Hey!” she called after me, running out onto the street behind me. “You didn’t tell me your name!”
I stopped in front of Gabe’s entrance. I had to think of something quick, anything to tell her. A lie, a pseudonym, a reas¬—
“It’s Grayson, isn’t it?” she asked, interrupting my thoughts. I stopped breathing. My hand instinctively flew to my pocket, the pocket, before I could stop it. I stood still; my head turned a bit.
“I have a cousin,” she said, “who goes to school in Material. From the description you gave, it sounds like you’re this ‘Grayson’ she talks about.” She recognised my silence. “Am I not right?” she asked, this time somewhat childishly, a tone of sorrow in her voice.
“No,” I told her. “You must have me mistaken for someone else.” It came out more harshly than I had intended. I put my right hand onto the door’s metal beam and told her, “Now if you will excuse me, I have a brother to feed.”
Why did I tell her that!? I screamed at myself as I pushed open the door and walked into Gabe’s, leaving Kaley standing outside disappointedly.
I had to force my body to calm down; sweat had all ready formed around my forehead. I breathed deeply and closed my eyes.
“Can I help someone?” the middle-aged woman behind the counter called out. I opened my eyes to see the few people who were in front of me had left. I quickly made my way to the counter, looking over my shoulder to see that the girl was no longer there.
When I retrieved my order, I exited Gabe’s very slowly, looking around to see if Kaley was still around. She might have just had a cousin who knew me, but that cousin might have known Connell. I did not want Kaley telling her that Jacob and I were here so she could run and tell that man.
I felt so bad. My first – uncontrollable – move was to my weapon. I did not try to object at first; I did not try to turn the question back onto her. I simply fled to my knife. Would I have killed her if I hadn’t restrained myself? Right there – in front of the restaurant. In front of all those people. One swift movement would have done it. Kaley was happy and exuberant. Why did she deserve to die? Because she might have known of me? Was that a good enough reason? I didn’t think so.
I put in the key – it stuck again – and walked into our motel room. Jacob was sitting on the bed, drying his hair with his towel. I sat the food down on the dresser and saw a folded paper. Grayson, it read. I snatched it and turned to Jacob.
“What is this?” I asked. He shrugged, walking over to see it.
Grayson,
Don’t try to play dumb with me. I knew it was you right from the start. Don't worry; I have no intention of telling your father your whereabouts. Actually, my family and I believe what my cousin said about your abusive father. We understand how you feel; I came from the same type of family originally until the Brandts adopted me. Please, contact us, Grayson. We can protect you.
–Kaley
Jacob slid the page out of my hand and reread it.
“How did this get in here?” I asked him, my voice gradually getting more furious by the syllable.
“I don’t know,” he answered quietly.
“Did you hear anyone enter the room while you were in the shower?” He shook his head. “The door was locked. There’s no way she could have gotten in here.”
We can protect you.
Those words stood out among the rest. I was not suitable to take care of Jacob alone. We both needed help… protection from Connell’s reach. There was no listed way to contact them. No phone number. No return address. I sighed. The restaurant. Kaley would probably wait for us there.
“Eat,” I said, my voice back to normal.
Jacob walked over and rifled through the paper bag. “Are we going to go find them?” he asked.
I took in a deep breath. “We have to,” I reluctantly answered him.
I have to, I rephrased in my head. It was the only chance I had to dissipate that magnetic attraction.
But I think I’m actually on time this time 
I think you mean that her cousin gave her a description about a boy that fit what Grayson looked like, right? If that’s correct, make sure you say that. Also, I don’t get this because didn’t Grayson dye his hair and stuff so he shoulding appear the same… Just thoughts to consider, I guess ^_-
Next time, I'll pace myself 
So when I'm not writing dialogue, I spell out my words...