Train Tracks
Rent
I was on my bed tending to a nasty broken rib I had gotten earlier in a fight when I heard an odd noise. It sounded almost like a sipping sound. Locating the source of the noise, I leaned out my window and glanced down.
The violet-haired girl was leaning against the wall under my window, calmly sipping out of a milk bottle.
“You…! What are you doing back here?” I bellowed at her.
She calmly glanced up at me, giving me a look that seemed to say ‘What took you so long?’.
“Kid, you can’t just hang outside a guy’s room like this!” I said, getting quickly irritated. “Go back home already.”
“I don’t have a home.”
I opened my mouth, ready for a harsh retort, but found that I could not give one. It was such an unexpected answer. “What? Then where do you sleep?”
“Outside.”
There was an uncomfortable pause.
“Actually, I was going to ask you if I can stay here,” she continued straightforwardly. “I’ll pay rent.”
I gaped, and then replied acidly, “No way in hell. Go somewhere else, kid.”
I slammed the window down, turned around and raked a hand through my hair. I was stunned and confused at this strange turn of events. And being confused made me very irritated.
I grabbed a bottle of vodka hidden in my closet and took a long swig. Besides, she’s probably just some spoiled brat who ran away from home because her parents didn’t want to buy her the newest iPhone model.
Her probing violet eyes, underlined with emotions much beyond her age, flashed through my mind. No, she didn’t seem that type.
I drank more, hoping the alcohol would set in faster than usual. God knows I needed it.
___________________________________________________________________
Pops came home earlier than usual. Probably to make up for not showing last night. He yelled at me again. His words were slurred by alcohol and he looked heavy on the drugs. He roared that I was a failure to him and to this world. That I would end up as a good-for-nothing. That it was my fault that mom left us. And that his daughter died. He yelled that he would gladly see me dead.
Then the fists came in. I was knocked onto the ground after the first set of blows. He started kicking. Hit my broken rib. Almost blacked out. Slapped me in the face. Stopped me from blacking out. I saw blood. Didn’t know where it came from. Hurt everywhere.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I lost track of time. After a while, he cooled down. I heard the angry slamming of his door. I was too much in pain to feel relief.
_____________________________________________________________________
“Still want to live here?”
The girl looked up at me evenly. She didn’t reply. Her amethyst gaze sufficed.
The violet-haired girl was leaning against the wall under my window, calmly sipping out of a milk bottle.
“You…! What are you doing back here?” I bellowed at her.
She calmly glanced up at me, giving me a look that seemed to say ‘What took you so long?’.
“Kid, you can’t just hang outside a guy’s room like this!” I said, getting quickly irritated. “Go back home already.”
“I don’t have a home.”
I opened my mouth, ready for a harsh retort, but found that I could not give one. It was such an unexpected answer. “What? Then where do you sleep?”
“Outside.”
There was an uncomfortable pause.
“Actually, I was going to ask you if I can stay here,” she continued straightforwardly. “I’ll pay rent.”
I gaped, and then replied acidly, “No way in hell. Go somewhere else, kid.”
I slammed the window down, turned around and raked a hand through my hair. I was stunned and confused at this strange turn of events. And being confused made me very irritated.
I grabbed a bottle of vodka hidden in my closet and took a long swig. Besides, she’s probably just some spoiled brat who ran away from home because her parents didn’t want to buy her the newest iPhone model.
Her probing violet eyes, underlined with emotions much beyond her age, flashed through my mind. No, she didn’t seem that type.
I drank more, hoping the alcohol would set in faster than usual. God knows I needed it.
___________________________________________________________________
Pops came home earlier than usual. Probably to make up for not showing last night. He yelled at me again. His words were slurred by alcohol and he looked heavy on the drugs. He roared that I was a failure to him and to this world. That I would end up as a good-for-nothing. That it was my fault that mom left us. And that his daughter died. He yelled that he would gladly see me dead.
Then the fists came in. I was knocked onto the ground after the first set of blows. He started kicking. Hit my broken rib. Almost blacked out. Slapped me in the face. Stopped me from blacking out. I saw blood. Didn’t know where it came from. Hurt everywhere.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I lost track of time. After a while, he cooled down. I heard the angry slamming of his door. I was too much in pain to feel relief.
_____________________________________________________________________
“Still want to live here?”
The girl looked up at me evenly. She didn’t reply. Her amethyst gaze sufficed.