My Life As It Is

Chapter Four

Unedited

It all passed like a dream, no, scratch that. A nightmare.  I have no idea how it went, mostly because I was verging on panic all the way through. Police questions. Secrecy. Lies. In the end, my age was our friend. Mine and my mothers.

I got to the morning newspaper before my mother, and I took it to her reluctantly. On the front page, is bold black letters the article read:

'Today we sadly buried our beloved Mayor Lake Jones who recently was killed in his home, cutting him off in his prime. Police were very secretive with information and would only say his stabbing was carried out in self-defense by his wife. The Police Chief has said this case is now closed.'

Mum looks up at me.

"We need someone else in the house with us, I don't think it safe with just us. "

Mum made a call to a company to see if they had anyone that needed a home. They had answer saying that they had an eighteen-year-old male that needed a place to stay for as long as they would take him. After mum asked if there were any females, we were told that the only other options were a twenty-nine-year-old male and a couple of thirty-year-old men, we agreed to have him stay in our home for as long as he wanted to. He was set to come to our house in an hour.

It felt like I blinked and the hour passed. My room was shut off, until further notice of the police. I was set to sleep in the spare room that held two beds, one for me, and one for the male. There was only one spare room and since my room was shut off, both I and the guy had to sleep in the same room.

Stupid I think, why would my mother put me in the same room as this eighteen-year-old guy.

The chime of our doorbell calls out, alerting us that we have a visitor. As I walk down the stairs, I wonder if it was the person that was going to be staying with us. My thoughts wander to what he would be like. We were not informed of anything about him, only that he was a male.

As I was thinking, I had subconsciously walked down the stairs and opened the door. But stupidly enough I kept on walking. Straight into the person waiting outside.

Slowly, my eyes travel from the chest of the man, upwards. I look at his tight fitting top that allows me to see his muscled body, then I look at his sculpted jawline, sharp but with a soft curve going out to the ears. His big lips and perfect straight nose with a light dusting of freckles stand out from his pale skin.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer," a deep voice says, pulling me out of the thoughts that had crowded my head.

My eyes snap up to meet his strikingly blue eyes, a frightened look crossing my face. I still didn't trust just anyone, and months of abuse and rape battered me down into being timid and scared.

"Hey, I'm sorry, are you okay?" He asks, softening his voice and reaching a handout.

I flinch away from the hand but lower my eyes from his and nod.

"Okay," he takes a deep breath, "Can I come in please?"

I step away from the door, allowing him access to the house.

"Wait, so what's your name?" I question shaking, realizing that he didn't say before.

When he doesn't answer instantly, I look at him questionably, wondering what he was waiting for. When I see him looking at me instead, I pause, confused.

He has a slight smile on his face, and his face is bright. His lightning struck blue eyes are connected to mine, and I feel my face go hot.

With a knowing chuckle, he answers my question.

"My name's Dante."

"Hello, Dan" I taunt timidly, a tiny smile crossing my face.

"Noooo oh God..." He groans, rubbing his hand across his face and through his Sandy brown hair. "Tay. If your gonna nickname me, call me Tay. Please."

I smile more, and with a small laugh, I nod.

As we talked, my mother had come down the stairs and was standing in front of us.  She has a smile on her face and seems happy for me.

I smile back and decide that I would go up to the room, but as I pass my mum I hug her.

Sitting on my bed in the room that I would be sharing with Dante for another however long, I just get hit with a wave of feelings.

Why does life like to throw these things at me?

Why is my life like this?

Why is it as it is?

With these thoughts flying around my head and Dante and mum downstairs talking, I slowly drift off into an uneasy sleep.

Word count: 844