Letitia Ryland (Apt 9E)

That night I was laying in my bed, sleepless. I had been tossing and turning for hours. My earlier interaction had practically strangled me. My new resolve to better manage my emotions was working, but it definitely wasn't easy. Cece had pulled me deeper and deeper into her plan, and I was now fully entrenched. I had started to hide bags and boxes deep in the storerooms of my vet clinic. Among bags of litter and medical supplies for two, four, and even three-legged creatures, there were a few inconspicuous cardboard boxes that contained carefully measured dime bags of snowy powder and large bags of budding green. I had been storing it and measuring it for her, in dark nights briefly illuminated by white-blue fluorescence and surrounded by the soft rustling of the animals in the next room. However, we'd both agreed that Cece would do most of the face-to-face interactions. She didn't know about my new resolve to be stronger and braver, so she still thought that I would brea...

"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...