Cinderella my Ass【COMPLETED】

Chapter 2: The struggles of a hermit

"Thank you for helping me, Ryder."

How comic for such a sentence said with such a soft and warm voice, sounding so sincere to make one fall on their knees and keep sleep at bay all night.

It was like she could hear the voice of that man saying that sentence over and over again as if he was taunting her.

He knew her name.

If this fact alone wasn't disturbing enough to keep Ryder all night awake, she also couldn't shake off the feeling that that voice was terrifyingly familiar, but not so much at the same time. She couldn't say much about it when the man spoke in the beginning for the voice was mixed with sobs and broken in tears, but when he thanked her... Where has she heard that voice?

He knew her name.

Ryder turned inside the house in a rush. Her feet tripped and her knees almost gave away a few times. She was trembling and cold sweat rolled down her back. What in the name of heaven did just happen? What the fuck was this out-of-a-horror-movie experience she just had? And most importantly... How the fuck did she not die?

The night never felt so long and terrifying. For the first time, Ryder didn't feel comfortable in her loneliness. It took hours for her to calm down and a lot of reasoning to shake away the unreasonable fear of darkness that bubbled up out of nowhere because of the unpleasant experience she just had. It felt as if the man would jump out of every dark corner of the house, but Ryder detested such a feeling. She liked the darkness... she refused to allow such an experience to change this. This idiot of a girl was such mule-headed that she would rather die than let go of her old habits and preferences regardless of the dangers, let them be reasonable or not.

As the night passed and sleep seemed not to be planning to take her consciousness, Ryder found herself less scared and calmer. However, the calmer she got, the more curious she became. With fear slipping out of her heart, another feeling found its way in. She now was deeply interested in all that happened. It couldn't be helped for this girl had a very curious nature. She was a little curious headless chicken.

And so Ryder started to wonder.

The man could be one of the boys living in this neighborhood, but if it was so, wouldn't she recognize them? They were all flirty and annoying, bullying people just for fun, trying to look almighty and powerful. Ryder had watched them countless times harassing women shamelessly regardless of age and bullying little kids for fun. However, the man didn't give that kind of aura... he was... different. Ryder refused to believe that the assholes from her neighborhood knew how to apologize or even know what the words "I'm sorry" meant. Yet just to be on the safe side, she decided not to exclude this man being from this neighborhood as an option. After all, it's not like she knew every single person for she was too introverted for that.

The man sounded quite young... he couldn't be much older than her... what if... what if he was from her school? If it was like this then she knew even less about the guys in her school. This chicken had no interest in getting to know new people and so she knew very few people from school. And Ryder also had a problem remembering names, sometimes even faces. The people from her neighborhood, she knew because she had been living here her whole life, but people from school? Nu-uh!

As a sigh puffed out of her lips, Ryder recalled the shaking shoulders of the stranger and felt a bit vexed.

The man looked drunk at first but when he thanked her this impression shattered to nothing. As she tried to make sense of this, a phrase from her favorite author came to her out of nowhere and replied in her head over and over again... Drunk in pain...

The corner of her lips lifted slightly as she shook her head.

The man did seem to be in pain, and not physically at that. His voice carried sorrow and reflected the agony of his heart, but Ryder didn't dare wonder what might have happened to this stranger to be in such a state. For her, own good, she didn't let her imagination run astray. What if she accidentally scared herself?