Chapter One #2
“This is the last time you’ll be allowed inside the apartment if I don’t get all the money I’m owed.
I’ll give you a break of two days on this month’s rent, but that’s it,” he states, reaching around me to unlock the door so I can go inside.
His arm brushes against my chest as I recoil from his touch.
The apartment is trashed as I take in every inch.
This is not how I left the place when I headed out to go to work.
Heading for my room that’s no bigger than a small closet, I take in the destruction there.
My mattress on the floor has been flipped, blankets are all over the place, and my clothes are tossed all over the room instead of being in the laundry basket.
Grabbing my clothing, I stuff it all back in the laundry basket unfolded and notice over half of them are gone.
All of my uniforms for The Hide Out are missing minus what I’m currently wearing, jeans, shorts, and two of my favorite skirts are missing.
Most of my tank-tops are also now gone. Karmen raided my shit and took what she wanted once again.
I walk over to the closet and move the door that’s leaning against the wall because it isn’t on the doorframe any longer, I reach into the hole where I hide my money.
My hand comes back empty. Bending down, I look inside to find nothing there.
Karmen found my stash and took what money I had saved up.
“Fuck!” I yell to no one as my landlord enters the room.
“Where’s the damn money?” he questions me, glaring harder now than before.
“It’s gone. Karmen took it,” I state, defeat lacing my voice as my shoulders hunch and I realize I’m about to be homeless with no job or employment prospects.
“You got five minutes to gather what you can and get the fuck out. I’m timing you,” Cliff says, his voice cold and hard as he watches me scramble around the room.
I grab everything important to me. The one picture album I have filled with the time I shared with Tristen and Zach, what clothes I have left, the blankets from my bed that are worn and thin, and the one pillow I have.
Grabbing the backpack I’ve had for years, I stuff all of the food I’ve stored in my room inside.
There’s not much left and I won’t be able to buy much more because I’ll have to put gas in the car so I can get the hell out of this town.
“Two minutes,” Cliff states as I gather the last of my things.
Placing my backpack on my shoulders, I stuff the blankets over the basket and grab it. This is all I have to my name. Twenty-three and I’ve got one basket and a backpack. This just shows how fucking pathetic I am. It’s time to move on and build something bigger than this.
Cliff follows me outside and locks the main door of the complex behind me so I can’t get back inside.
Karmen really fucked me over and I know she doesn’t give a damn about anyone but herself.
I put the basket on the trunk of my used Chevrolet Cavalier.
It has more spots of rust on it these days than paint.
I got this car just before I aged out of the foster system and have done the best I can to maintain it.
Opening my back door, I load the basket and bag inside before slamming my door shut and getting back in the driver’s seat.
I lean my head against the steering wheel for a second, letting tears of anger and frustration fall unchecked.
Today has been one more day in a very long line of horrendous days.
It’s simply how my life works and I’m over it.
One day I’ll catch a break and be able to not stress about money, somewhere to live, and living the life I deserve.
I’m not a bad person, but all this shit seems to keep coming for me.
Today is just another example of that. Finally, I reach up and wipe the tears away before starting my car and leaving the apartment complex behind.
It doesn’t take me long to get to the sign announcing that I’m leaving Briar Glen and I smile a genuine smile for the first time all day.
“Welcome to your new life, Wren,” I say to myself as I pass the sign and turn to get on the highway.
As I cruise down the highway, I’ve got my window rolled down and the music blaring as loud as the ancient speakers will play.
It’s not very loud if I’m being honest. Too many days spent listening to loud music has blown them.
I sing along to each song that comes on the radio.
My car is so old, I don’t have all the fancy inputs for me to connect my phone to the radio so I can play one of my playlists.
The radio is good enough for me, though.
***
Driving on the empty road, I start to smell smoke.
That very distinct smell of something on fire you can’t mistake.
I’m not even an hour outside of Briar Glen.
Looking to the left of the deserted highway, I spot the fire immediately.
It’s a little down from an empty diner I passed.
I immediately pull over and rush across the road.
The heat from the fire is overwhelming as I try to look through the smoke to see if anyone is around.
Walking around the area, I find a motorcycle on fire.
Directly in front of it is a large vehicle and I can hardly make out the raised hood.
The entire bike is engulfed in flames and I can smell gas leaking from one of the vehicles.
Pulling out my phone, I go to call for a fire department when I hear a choked cough from a few feet in front of me.
At least I think it’s a few feet. The smoke is so thick I can’t really tell where anything is.
“Is someone there?” I call out, immediately coughing from the smoke I’m not inhaling with each breath.
“Help,” I hear someone try to call out weakly with a hoarse voice and I strain to hear anything to help guide me toward where I think the voice is coming from.
Moving forward, I step slow and careful while trying to navigate through the smoke.
I have nothing to cover my mouth and nose with.
I take about fifteen steps into the smoke when my foot nudges something.
I immediately drop to the ground and feel a foot.
Moving my hand up the body, I don’t stop until I find the person’s arms. Reaching underneath them, I pull with every ounce of strength I have.
The person barely moves, but moans out in pain.
“I’m so sorry,” I start to say on repeat as I manage to turn the person around and drag them from the fire.
By the time I feel as if we’ve moved far enough from the fire, I’m covered in sweat, sore, and about to collapse.
No one else has come to help me and I don’t hear any sirens of trucks coming to put the fire out.
As I take a few breaths and start coughing horribly, the heat at my back becomes even worse causing me to drop to the ground, partially covering the person I just pulled from hell.
An explosion goes off and I’m hit with all sorts of debris.
The only thing I can do is cover as much of the person underneath me with my own, small body.
“Fuck!” I hear someone say through what sounds like water. It’s all distorted and muffled sounding. I don’t know what the hell is going on as my body feels like it’s on fire. “Razer! Wyatt!”
Two names are shouted repeatedly as I try to lift my head.
It won’t move. Nothing on my body will. The shouting sounds as if it’s coming closer, but I can’t tell as a ringing starts to sound in my ears.
Everything around me is starting to fade when I start to see someone moving closer to where I’m laying.
I can’t make out any details, but I try to call out for help.
Nothing comes out of my mouth. There’s absolutely no sound as I try to call out again and again.
“Fury,” the person under me says and I feel him slide something in my hand before my fingers automatically clench around the object.
I hope the person I saved is okay. Maybe I was able to save their life while I lose mine. This is the last thought I have as I’m pulled into a blank abyss where no sound, heat, smoke, or anything else can touch me.