The Shackles of My Mother

Chapter 4

I roll onto my stomach as the erratic hammering of my alarm blasts through the room. Blinking at the black digital clock on the bedside table, I read 08:15 and breathe an almost animated sigh.

Climbing out of bed with full movements, I slap the top of the alarm to silence it, and start getting ready. After showering, I pull out a breezy white summer dress, feeling particularly daring for no particular reason.

After an unusually full nights rest, my chest feels light and my head almost worryingly clear. I do not remember, for the life of me, the last time I slept for more than three hours without waking. Perhaps the lack of direct fear running through my veins has worked on my behalf, like a weak tranquilizer. Without having to cast my eye over my shoulder continuously, I feel that here, maybe, I can be happy.

I spare a quick thought for the day ahead; and I'm excited. A day with Lexi could be just what I want, and just what I need.

It's nearly nine when I emerge from my bedroom and make my way through the strangely silent apartment to the kitchen. "Lexi, you up?" I call out as I reach for an apple on from the fruit bowl.

The sweet juices burst into my mouth as I hear a door in the back of the apartment close. 

In the silence of the kitchen, left with my untamed thoughts, my mind sways back to the shut off phone in my suit case. As soon as I reached Lexi's two nights ago, I shut it down and took the battery out when the first message came through. I see no point in reading them, I know what they will say, and I know what they'll make me do. 

I still want to sell it, rid of all connections it brings me, but there's something tedious that's stopping me.

I presume it's the idea that throwing away the phone would be the last tie severed. Although the lack of connection is what I yearn for, to finally be free from it all, I'm also held captive by the knowledge that shackles have to be unlocked, and the only person who can rid me of mine is on the other end of that line.

For now, though, I can pretend they're not there. I'll push it to the back of my mind until I barely feel the restrictions.

A small cry escapes my lips at the sound of a deep voice being cleared, and I blink against the sting of my eyes from staring into space for so long.

Wearing a pair of low strung, fitting jeans, the burgundy tee stretched over Seth's wide chest matches his neat shoes. His dark hair falls in pretty curls around his face, tucked behind his ears like I've only witnessed so far, and strikes a huge contrast with his visibly blue eyes.

"Mornin'." He says simply, standing in the door frame. It's the first time I notice his accent properly, a hint of southern, I think. It rounds off just nicely with the dark, almost gritty undertone of his voice. There's a word for voices like his, I think, it just hasn't been made yet.

"Good morning." I reply, putting the apple on the counter behind me. I delicately rock on the balls of my feet, feeling embarrassed that I have very little to say.

Seth is still standing in the door frame, his hip lent on the wood as he watches me, hands tucked in his pocket. He's giving me an odd look, one of question and anticipation. I swallow hard at it, feeling a blush cover my cheeks with the confusion I feel in return. "You read the note?" He drawls slowly, his eyebrow cocked.

I mimic his stance, lifting a dark brow. "What?"

He nods behind me, and I turn to find a small note in writing undeniably Lexi's. "Oh." I mutter, reading my name scrawled in large letters at the top of the paper. How had I not seen this?

Phoenix,

Really sorry I can't take you today, and I'm gutted I'm missing lunch, but work called and someone's off on sick, so I have to fill in... Hope you don't mind that I asked Seth! He's lovely, I swear, he just takes some getting used to.