Out of Time

Chapter 1

           I felt eyes on me as I walked down the sidewalk deepening into my soul all the way to and through my core. I could get the sense I wasn't supposed to be here, but I had to, it was the only way to get home. At least now it is ever since we moved to New York . I could never understand why people always wanted to live here there's nothing but drugs and gangs. The further I walked down the more I could smell the stench of drugs, vomit and something else I just can't quite put my finger on. Sweat from a fight, no maybe the blood of a new gang member. Maybe it's a new drug. No, cigarettes that's what is was cigarettes. Ew! I hated the smell of cigarettes especially ever since my aunt started smoking. Slowly killing her all throughout her body. Poisoning herself to the break of death.That's what I think about those sticks of death.

By the way my name is Willow and I'm six-teen years old. I want to tell you a story that I'll never forget no matter how hard I try because after what I've been through it's my turn to say my side of the story.

When I walk I always have my head down that way I won't draw attention to myself. For some unknown reason though I always, every time I walked down this road. Can see something in the corner of my eye, when I turn though I always feel so paranoid since there is nothing. I am determined it is my mind playing tricks on me using my fear of this place against my will. To someday become insane from my own body. That was another one of my fears, going insane. Sometimes I feel I already am. I wish I could leave this place not just New York, but the whole world. It's a dangerous place to live in. But it's the only place we know of that's inhabitable in space. I wished I could go back to my old town it was small, but it was sweet. The farther away you went from it the more you seen of fields and cattle. Especially fall. Oh I love fall with the crisp clean air and changing colors all around me. All I had to do was go fifteen minutes outside of the town and it was a completely different world. Just like my dream.

Not like the city at all. There are different worlds but not the kind I always fantasized about. Nor did I like our new 'house' my aunt calls it. It's really a three bedroom apartment up on the third floor.Good god I hate apartments it's never quite and it almost seems like the police are there every weekend. And I've only lived there for two days. Tomorrow was Sunday a church day I call it. I'm the only one that goes but I don't mind it gives me sometime to think and clear my head. I think church is great even though now I have to go to a new father. I always get a cross from them as a memory. For my parents, and the places I have been. I have about twenty- six now, no twenty-seven tomorrow it'll be twenty-seven. I don't just go to church to be alone or to keep close to my parents, but my mother always said You go to church and pray not only to be protected but to stay pure in this world full of war and drugs we call home. Pure that's what I want to be, pure.

I finally made it to my apartment. It was horrifying full of graffiti on the outside bricks and posters on the inside. This is no 'home' for a sixteen year old girl. Or anyone for that matter. I started walking up the stairs and noticed four hispanics sitting there staring at me. It was so uncomfortable. It wasn't just because they were hispanic. I have nothing against them actually my best friend from two towns ago was hispanic. So don't go judging people. Ok! All of a sudden I wished I had something to do or was doing something. Listening to music or on my cell phone, but I knew my phone was dead. Plus it was too late now I would look like I would be trying to ignore them. I was. But they don't need to know that. Man, they were blaring their music I hate those kinds of people. Don't they have any respect for anyone other than themselves.

" Yo, sweet heart ain't ya gonna say hi" one of them said.

I just kept my head down, and hoped they weren't gonna do anything major. Good thing it was only catcalling. I can't believe my aunt wanted to move here. I have a super phobia of the city not just New York every major city. It's like going insane. I know it's crazy, but I can't help it I just have phobias. Going insane, big cities, large groups of people, talking in front of people it's bad, not to mention my fears of dolls, snakes, spiders, clowns..... and especially men dressed in black in an alley I mean seriously that's creepy. Finally, I made it up the stairs and to our apartment. I put in the key, turned it and slowly opened the door. There she was Aunt Mary passed out on the couch. With smokin buds in an ashtray, and the worst of it all a new habit she has now that we moved here just two days ago, and she's already addicted to marijuana. Which does not help her alcohol problem. I slowly walked through the living room past my cousin's room and into mine. Alone, safe those are the only words in my head. As I threw my jacket on a box, I set down my cell phone down, and plugged it in. I went to my nightstand and opened my pill bottle. Took out one of my anxiety pills and swished it down with some water. Yeah, you heard right anxiety I have anxiety so did my mom she gave the pills to me when I was thirteen a week before eighth grade. One every night for the rest of my life I don't mind though I actually enjoy it. Just knowing it helps my fears eases my thoughts. It helps me leave my house and go to groups of people. Now ya know I'm actually not crazy with my fears I just have a medical condition.

After my pill I collapsed on my bed and thought. Thought about my mom, and my old life. Thought about how much fun I had and knew how blessed I was. Thought about what my mom looked like, I always think about how she looks. Beautiful blue eyes with her dirty blonde hair; her sweet smell and her cooking I loved her cooking she could make grilled cheese taste like two hundred dollars. She was a catch too, people always talked about her, especially grandma she would always tell me about when my mom grew up. Mother was so popular, she could make anyone fall in love with her. Then there was my father I can't remember too much about him. Only that he has brown hair and fell in love with my mom. She always told me he was kind, and someday would come back. I always believed it too until I got to about the age of eight that's when I got the feeling he wasn't. Although even when I gave up I still had dreams about him. Me walking down a sidewalk head held high, about the age I am now (I was always about fifteen in this dream, don't ask me why I have no idea) then a man is in an alley a I walk by he comes out. Not normal either I get this feeling I should run, but I don't then he runs after me and another man comes I can't see his face but somehow I know it's my dad. As he turns to face me; I wake up. Always I always wake up I couldn't be asleep for a few my seconds that's all I ask.