Letitia Ryland (Apt 9E)

"So at that point I'd tried everything. I'd been on TV, had my own TV show, received many medals... I was riding high." Ryan Lochte's face wasn't showing a lot of emotion as he talked. It was somewhat similar to watching a lecture from the most boring teacher. The kind of teacher that could make true crime and campfire stories into a fairly efficient lullaby. Who put him up there on the stage? "At that point I was at the height of my fame. I thought everybody knew my name. I spent most of my time training, but I appeared on lots of TV shows and I got calls from interviewers and sponsors and my manager was loving it. When I floated the idea for my own TV show, no one thought I could do it. But I told them that I was going to be successful. That's the only mentality that works. It's how I get through any competition or anything. Anyway, my stereotype has always been a "dumb jock" so I wanted to prove them wrong. I wanted to be able t...

She was gone when I woke up. Violet, and the boxes too. After our conversation, she had seemed to want to stop talking, but we were still stuck together in the middle of a storm. We  had positioned a box between us and leaned against the door frame of the building, then stared off at the flying debris. It had seemed to me that the howling wind would never let me rest, but I guess Cece's plan had been keeping me up during most nights. I had really wished that the distraction from the storm would have kept Violet from hearing my sniffles. The storm was causing so much pain. It was taking me a lot to keep from straight out bawling, but her presence was silently commanding me to keep my noise to a minimum.  She looked over at me every once in a while, then shook her head and stared resolutely away without saying a word. I could tell that she was not the type of person to pity me or sympathize with me. There are a few reactions to my excessive emotion. Most people treat me really...

The rain was pounding on the roof of the car. To Letitia, it sounded like the apocalypse was coming.  By the sound, she knew that she would have to find real shelter soon. She pulled over into  the parking lot of a nondescript office/medical building, parked, then ran under the covered entrance. There was another woman there, pacing and talking on her phone. Letitia tried the door, but it was locked. She looked back and thought of running to her car, but trash had started  to fly around in the air outside the entrance, between her and her car. She was stuck with a stranger. Letitia was picking up some serious emotions of annoyance and worry from the woman. The woman's emotions were making Letitia anxious as well. This, compounded with the ever-present stress stemming from Cece's plan and her attempts to get Letitia involved, not to mention the raging storm and Letitia's soaking hair, was making for a not-so-great day in Letitia's book. Her thoughts of her problems wer...

Letitia walked through the door of her office and was greeted by a few barks and a couple meows. She was a vet. Animals were sometimes so much easier to understand than humans. She loved how they could be happy with the simplest things, like a ball or a walk. If Cece could be content with just a ball, Letitia would have a few less problems in her life. Cece owned her own karaoke bar, which Letitia thought was an achievement all on its own. Cece, however, didn't think the same. All Cece wanted was to get invited to one of Griffin Crimson's parties, get rich, and live a "big" life. "Hey Letty, you got Cece on the phone for ya." June, Letitia's assistant, held out the phone and shook it slightly in Letitia's direction. Cece always knew how to make an entrance. Of course she would call just as Letitia was thinking about her. Letitia took the phone and put it to her ear. "Hey Letitia, girl, we need to get out of this place. Someone shut that wom...

The day started with her dog jumping on her stomach. Brownie licked her face and she pushed him away with one hand, wiping his sticky spit off her cheeks with the other. She wiped, then wiped again, then realized she wasn't just wiping spit. There were tears. Letitia was crying again. She sighed, exasperated with herself. It was too early in the morning for this! She looked over at her clock, and it read 7:16 AM. Letitia rolled out of bed. She walked to the kitchen, sniffling, and started making herself some coffee. She went about her morning ritual: pet and feed the animals, brush her teeth, take a shower. Everything was normal. However, Letitia was still gently sobbing. As she looked in the mirror to apply her makeup, she wondered how she could possibly put on mascara while water leaked out of her eyes. More importantly, though, why was she still crying? Letitia had always had a gift (or curse, actually, in many situations) of being extremely sensitive to the emotions of others...