CHAPTER ONE
The day had been raining since morning, Cherie sat in the cab pondering through the window about the apartment she's moving into. It wasn't much of her choice but she had signed up the lease. She had nowhere to go, nowhere to stay anymore.
Her eyes twitched.
Cherie began to see flashbacks.
She was in her room that Saturday noon. Mom hadn't been home the night before, she had peeped into her mother's room earlier. The bed was neatly tucked, no signs of her mother around the house. She made breakfast of bread and butter, scrolled her cellphone for messages or missed calls and found it empty. It was typical of her mother to be absent from home most of the time. Cherie was sixteen, young and broken; she couldn't care less about her mother at times but there are moments she couldn't deny the yearnings to be loved and cared by her mother. Hatred and self pity instigate her thoughts and feelings. She damned her father for leaving her when she was seven, damned the community which made her mother an alcoholic. She blamed everyone. She hated them and she trusts no one.
Cherie heard noises and laughters coming from the living room, she left her bed and went to see what is the commotion about. She halts by the hallway and saw a man sitting on the couch, he looked comfortable in that couch. Too comfortable. He grinned his yellow stained teeth, he didn't looked sober or well-groomed. His checkered shirt was crumpled, his beige pants had stains of dirt and his eyes potrays a slumber of drunkeness. His features repeled Cherie even more, she noticed the thin on the top of his head ; where only a few strands of hair was left at his age. The fold under his eyes sent chills on her skin. Cherie took a step back, hid herself behind the petition wall and observe. From across the living room, Cherie's mother held a bottle of beer in each of her hands, the slim and gaunt woman walked towards the man. Settled on the couch, he sat back and waited for his beer.
" Here's your drink, George."
" You gotta learn to treat a man right, Abby." He took the bottle from Cherie's mother.
" Learnt my lesson. It won't happen again, George." Abby promised.
" That's my woman... You know I love you." George warned.
" Yes. And I love you too." Abby said, her voice trembled and she forced a smile.
"Now, go make me something to eat." George demanded.
Cherie saw her mother hustled to the kitchen. Her heart sank with anger and disappointment. Why, mama? Her voice was trapped in her mind. She did not understand how and why her mother had reacted in such a manner towards the man. She swore to herself that this guy would never get any respect from her. She despised the man named George. Cherie turned and returned to her room.
CHAPTER TWO
The cab took a left turn and slowed down to a stop along Matilda Street. The rain had subside to drizzle outside. The cab left and Cherie stood alongside her luggage. Before her was a seven storey tall building apartment. It looks old, painted in tattletale gray; the surface was blotch with green fungus and the paint itself had peeled away from the exterior wall. The sight was overwhelming but it comes with a cheap rent. Without any doubts Cherie forward into the building, once entered she saw a familiar face behind a counter. An old woman looked up from her baking magazine to see who had arrive at her lobby. Cherie remembered now, the woman behind the counter had thick face with wide lips and large eyes was the landlady.
