Leave The Past In The Past

I stared out of the back door of our ‘lunch break’ room, which was also our ‘sign in/sign out’ room. It was raining outside.

I used to love the rain. Back when I lived in England with a wealth mother and drunken Nanny, not realising my life was falling to pieces. The rain was one of my favourite things in the world – it was beautiful, unpredictable, and after it was gone everywhere smelt so fresh and alive. But this isn’t the same rain. It couldn’t be. This type of rain her in Leicester was… horrible.

The sky was no existent, covered completely by thick black rainclouds which stopped any light that this horrible dark town get’s blessed with. As for the actual rain, I’m pretty sure it was grey; dirty rain. Nice right? And every time it rained here, it reminded me of a setting for a fairytale – a princess waiting her prince charming. Only my prince charming sure was taking his time, and everyday I lost a little more faith.

I watched the people rushing around on the street. Some held newspapers held above their heads trying to protect themselves. Others just pulled their hoods up, but it did little to stop the rain getting them. I saw one person with their umbrella held up. Bad idea. But before the thought had even registered, their umbrella had turned inside out and was flying away.

I shivered slightly as another gust of wind hit the building, shrieking as it came, almost as though someone was trapped inside it screaming as it went.

I sighed deeply and shook my head of all thoughts like that, before I glanced down at my watch; I had to go now. I needed to get home. Normally I’d get a ride from Lorraine, but not today. She went home ‘sick’ at lunch. More like her son had was being given an award for 100% attendance and she didn’t want to miss it.

So I took a deep breath and stepped outside. The frigid wind hit me, roaring in my ears, and I nearly ran back inside. For the moment I was under shelter, so I took my time doing my cardigan up and pulling my hoodie over the top. I glanced down at my shoes and cringed; I was wearing gladiator sandals. I hadn’t heard the weather forecast today, and I thought even if it did rain, I’d be getting a ride.

I counted to five in my head – One… Two… Three… Four… Four and a half… five! – and stepped into the rain, only to get hit from every angle with what seemed to be ice water.
But instead of turning around I pulled my hood up and started walking as fast as I could out of Tesco’s parking lot and onto the pavement next to the main road.

Normally if I was walking I went a different way through a field, but it took about thirty minutes and when it was raining I really couldn’t be bothered. If I followed the main road for a bit I’d come to a small grassy area at the side of the road, and there was an alleyway near there that lead to my block of flats. This way took me about twenty minutes, ten minutes less then my normal way and I didn’t need to go through a muddy field.

I kept my head down and walked as quickly as I could, bordering on a run. I wanted to get home quickly, and not just because of the rain. It was 7:00 pm, and that’s not really the best time to be out alone in this part of Leicester. Not just because of rape though, yesterday I heard about a boy who was shot three times in the head and chest. He was eight. If people can do that to an eight year old, I imagine that they won’t hold back on me.

I sighed, unable to believe that I’d actually let myself come to live in a place like this, where violence was normal. I’m not saying the whole of Leicester was bad, just this bit.

As I walked I thought. I thought about my life in general. I have a flat, albeit a shitty flat, but a flat none the less. I have a job, but it’s hardly something that I’m going to be able to do for rest of my life. I have… well that’s it really.
But what I don’t have, that’s a slightly longer list. I don’t have any friends, unless you count Loraine and I don’t. I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t have happiness. I don’t have any parents. I don’t have anyone to talk to. I don’t have enough money. I don’t have anything I want! Just what I need.

I looked up and smiled when my eyes fell upon a small patch of grass. It had an old, graffiti ridden bench that was literally falling to pieces, and a large tree. But behind the large tree, hidden from motorists’ eyes, was an alleyway. It wasn’t a wide alleyway, in fact you could barely walk side by side with another person in it, which made it unpopular for people to hang out in. Instead, they loitered around either end.
But tonight there were no around the alley – just me, but I still walked a little faster through the alley, the eerie silence that lurked in the alley was horrible. The noise of the rain seemed to fade as I walked, but the second I stepped out of the alley, I was met by its full force. Wind swept my hair around my face, and rain pelted my body, but I didn’t care anymore because there in front of me was my block of flats.

They were three floors – not including the basement where the landlord Mrs Figg lived – and on each floor were two flats. The actually building looked old, rather unkempt and very unwelcoming, but inside, well actually, it was the pretty much same.
Mrs Figg was an awful landlord. She spent most of her waking hours drunk and smoking, and the only company she ever kept was an old cat. It looked scary, smelt dreadful and if looked in the eye would attack. It’s safe to say you should keep your distance.

But as I walked up to my block of flats they’d never felt more welcoming. Once out of the rain and into the musky smelling hall I walked straight past a door with a number 1 on it, and up a set of stairs until I reached my flat. Number 3.

I opened the door, walked into my living room and started on my many locks. It takes me about three minutes every night to do the many locks and bolts I have, but I like the felling of safety.

I sighed and looked in the mirror that was put up next to my door. I looked… well I took dishevelled to a new level. I smiled, picked up my post and walked straight into the shower; the scalding hot water felt amazing against my skin.

But all the time I was doing this, I was subconsciously stopping my thoughts from wandering to them. Every time I thought something that could trigger a memory, I’d back track. Every time I did something that would make me think of them, I stopped.

And I finally felt as though I was moving on slightly; taking a step forward. What a shame he had to come along and ruin it.