karma → 5sos au

1.6

Luke's neighborhood was so much more squalid than she'd remembered. The houses were so claptrap, so small. They huddled together like little tents, one right after the other with hardly and front yard at all.

No wonder why Luke always wants to meet on my side of town, Bryana thought, pushing the automatic lock button on the car door.

She slowed down as she neared his block. Across the narrow street, two scrawny dogs, looking like skeletons in her bright headlights, tipped over a garbage can. The lid clattered against the pavement and rolled into the center of the street. The mangy dogs began pulling at a large package wrapped in brown paper, each snarling at the other to let go.

Bryana swerved to miss the garbage can lid. The bony dogs were in her rear view mirror now. Even with the windows shut tight, she could hear their snarls and growls as they struggled to pull open the disgusting package.

Why do these people keep their garbage cans out on the street? Bryana wondered, holding her breath as if trying not to smell the garbage. And don't they ever feed their dogs?

Was that Luke's house up there? The small brick house with the newspaper stuffed in a broken window?

Yes, that was it. She'd been here once.

Bryana slowed to a stop, but kept the car's engine running. The house was dark except for a single, low-watt bulb aglow over the narrow front stoop. An old tire sat in the middle of the square patch that served as a front lawn. The yard seemed to be all weeds, weeds that hadn't been cut in months, bending first this way, then that in the shifting night wind.

Do I really know someone who lives here? Bryana thought.

How could I be going out with someone who has a tire in his front yard and newspaper stuffed in a window?

And what am I doing here now? The house is dark. He and his aunt are probably asleep.

This is crazy. Totally crazy.

She glanced down at the clock on the dashboard. One-thirty.

Luke usually stays up till all hours, she thought, staring up at the dark house. Maybe he isn't asleep. I drove all the way up here. I have to talk to him.

If I knock on his door, his old aunt probably won't hear it anyway, and he'll come to the door.

Having made up her mind, she pulled the car to the curb. There was no driveway. She'd have to park on the street. She cut the headlights. The sudden darkness surprised her.

Can't they even afford streetlights? she asked herself.

Oh, well. When I break it off with Luke, I'll never again have to come to this neighborhood again - unless it's part of some door-to-door charity drive.

Reluctantly she opened the car door and stepped out into the darkness. The wind was cold and strong. It seemed to push her away from the car. She pushed back, still clinging to the door handle.

This is a mistake. A stupid mistake.

No. I have to know the truth about Luke. I have to know - what?

If he's dead or alive?

The street was silent except for the wind. A narrow concrete walk, overgrown with weeds, led up to Luke's front stoop. Low shadows clustered against the front of the house like hunkering animals, caught in the dim yellow light of the bulb suspended over the door.

Bryana's footsteps sounded so loud as she walked quickly to the front door. Down the street another garbage can lid clattered against pavement, startling her. She gasped quietly. The two dogs were barking in the distance, fighting over garbage.