Terrifying New Start (On Hold)

Chapter One - Encounter

My name is Regan Carolina Hawkins. I’m twenty years old and I live alone in my small apartment. I have a story to tell, and this is how it goes…

Chapter One:     Encounter…

I EAGERLY LEFT THE restaurant, finally getting off my shift. I hate working as a waitress, I really do. My feet ached and I got crappy tips because I don’t look like a Barbie like Janice, my co-worker.

I basically limped to my bicycle, because I’m too broke to get a real car. Let’s just say I can’t afford getting name brand products. I live on Spam and water mainly. What a life eh?

“Oww, I’m going to die,” I whined and threw myself over my bike seat.

My bike squeaked loudly as I peddled down the dark street in the hood. I live in a very dangerous place. I’ve been mugged nearly five times in the past two years, but they only got what I normally have on me; five bucks and a few packets of ketchup that I had taken from my job…

There was no moon tonight; nope, just street lights and a few occasional lights from passing cars. I felt the cold whistle I had around my neck in case someone dared to attack me.

The air smelled fresher than normal, instead of the normal smokiness of an old car, or cigarettes blowing in my face.

I pulled my bike up to the building and opened the old rickety wooden door to the apartment building.

As I carried my bike up the stairs, because there is no elevator, I was huffing and puffing before reaching my floor.

I’m a tiny person, I admit it. I’m barely at five foot as it is, and living in a small town like this, makes me look like prey.

I unlocked my door, apartment 102 on the fourth floor. I have to carry my bike up and down these steps so that it won’t get stolen. I guess it builds muscle and all, but it kind of sucks.

My tiny apartment was just plain and simple, just like I like it. It had a twin sized bed in the top left corner (the apartment is basically one room) and I had my ‘kitchen’ on the right, which was basically a hot plate on a TV tray and a microwave.

I did have a table however, and a chair, though they don’t match.  My bed is the nicest thing I have in here that I actually bought new. I’m a regular at the flea market and Goodwill.

I do like the floors here though, because they are wooden, and the floral wallpaper isn’t that bad…

I sat my bed and took in a deep breath before I unlaced my shoes.  My feet were red and ached like no body’s business. I sighed and went into the bathroom. Yes, I have a bathroom, and it’s not too bad really. I have a tub/shower, a sink, and a toilet. That’s all anyone needs really.

A thump made me turn my head towards my room.

“I’ve got a gun!” I shouted in warning.

I don’t own a gun honestly, because they terrify me. I use a water instead, just as a bluff.  When I saw that nothing was in my apartment, I growled and marched out of my apartment and banged on my neighbor’s door. Don’t worry, I know him pretty well, he’s not too bad.

“Pete! Did you let Morey out again?” I shouted. “If so, get your cat out of my place!”

It was useless because he wasn’t home, so I went back to my place and locked the door behind me.

What I need is a nice hot shower and hours and hours of sleep. I stepped into the bathroom and stripped to the bare, slowly stepping into the hot shower. The water ran yellow for a second before turning a somewhat clear color.