she's no angel - z.m.

14

We had watched some comedy movie, which had helped with clearing my thoughts a little at least. Or maybe not as much the movie itself - but more Jaden's laughter and excited sparkling eyes. Truthfully I hadn't really been able to even focus on the plot of the damn movie.

"I still think it's ironic you can't even stand being on a ladder when you live this high up in the sky with glass windows for walls, Jaden." I always told him that over and over; teasingly when he would stand like that; safely away from the glass wall in the other end of his room. I on the other hand loved being this high up  – it was like finally being free. Only the sky was the limit now. The complete opposite to my apartment, which was small, enclosed, and dark. Not much light would get to crawl in there, not to mention how you could barely even see the sky from any of the windows there. I hated it.

After leaving Jaden's and once again being grounded with the rest of the grey New York, I felt lighthearted. A little more optimistic about the span of my life at the moment. Luckily no one had crossed my way, as I scared as hell had gone to Nox to retrieve my bag and jacket. I guessed Aaron had returned at some point and closed the nightclub for the day; reasoned with the fact that it had been completely dark inside and the place had been locked up forcing me to use the extra key. It had been so quiet. Just like any other closed day - dark and with the air somehow oozing with that poisonous feel. Almost too quiet. I had hurried out of there quickly after fetching my belongings.

It had been as dark as Manhattan could get, when I had taken the subway home afterwards. While my eyes had been running tiredly over the graffiti painted windows and the rumbling familiar sound of yet another subway making its way through the network of Manhattan had filled my ears, I had been thinking about Jaden. He had insisted on walking me home and I simply refused to let him. It was past midnight when I had left his place and just because my life was a tangled, dark, toxic mess – didn't mean his life should be further entangled in it as well. Hopefully he would be fast asleep right now. I really hoped so.

With slow careful moves I tried to lock myself in without making a single sound. My heartbeat was even slow and I held my breath afraid the mere sound of the exhalation would be too noisy. Barely touching the wood of the door I pushed it open like had it been a light breeze doing so. My every cell vigilant. I didn't turn on the lights in the hall either. Instead I just prayed and hoped with the entirety of my heart that – Parez, my father – wouldn't notice I had returned home.  

The only sound in the pitch black apartment was the one of my heartbeat, which went faster and faster from the lack of breathing. I slowly released the air from my screaming lungs and the familiar smell of the place washed in over me. The stuffy mixed smell of alcohol, smoke, putrefaction – just as usual.

I hated so many things about this place - but one of the worst was the smell. Suffocating. Unhealthy. I despited it all.

The thing was Parez had rules. Parez wasn't much for cleaning out and opening windows that sort, which meant I just had to cope with it. Follow the rules. Obey. I cleaned up after myself, but Parez would always leave his garbage behind; empty beer cans, take-away boxes, cigarette studs. For weeks it would lay in the exact same spot with the status of the holy grail - there was no way he would let me clean it up.

I recalled that one time I had actually tried tidying the place – only to get terribly scolded at. And even then - scolded couldn't describe it properly. What had happened that unfortunate day, on which I had tried cleaning up this crappy, claustrophobic apartment could still make my heartbeat quicken, my pupils dilate in fear.

I remembered it so clearly. How he had just been coming home. He had stopped in the hallway; stared at me as the clean and refreshing scent of detergent and flowers had washed in over him with clear tellings of what I was in the middle of doing. His eyes had turned dark, so endlessly dark - and for the briefest moment I could have sworn they had turned completely black. I still remembered how I had wanted to gasp but hadn't been able to do so from the pure shock - I had been sure his eyes had turned completely black. Glistening black and bottomless, cold and dead and horrifying. But maybe it had just been one of my nightmares, which had replaced reality of the memory. No one could make their eyes turn completely black. It was without doubt just my imagination as usual. Just like the rest of it.

Followingly Parez had stormed towards me - coming closer than ever. The drowning scent of decay which he always seemed to carry with him washed in over me and dulled my senses. He had grabbed my wrist so tightly it had left a purplish mark several days after - it had taken unusually many days for it to turn into a normal color again actually. And honestly if I looked closely I could still see how the skin was slightly darker even this day years later - how it was still faintly marked with the curves of his fingers closing around my wrist.

He had yelled. His voice had bellowed through the small space like deep thunder, that made you genuinely scared - not just in your mind; but in your heart too. When you could feel the blackness of utter despair close in and drench your core of happiness completely with black sticky oil. His dark, cold eyes had been so filled with anger and rage as he had clenched his fist tighter. Making me understand he didn't want me to ever do something like this again. Never. Never again. And I hadn't. I had never touched any of his things again. Never dared.

Situations like those had always  filled me with a strange cold emptiness that would last for weeks; and the anger  would never truly disappear. It only kept growing. Grew into panicky frustration and lastly into numbness. So lastly it seemed my heart had simply decided to settle permanently somewhere near the bottom of my stomach.  

I admitted it – he scared me so endlessly. Though he had never actually hit me, it had been close sometimes. Too close.

The appearance of Parez - my personal demon -  was a middle aged and overweight man with  messy, greasy brown hair hanging down to his shoulders. His skin saw little sunlight and looked as if it needed a good scrub to get the dirt to go properly away. His finger nails were yellow and seemed filthy more than anything else really. Usually he would have stubbles, which he shaved off every weekend. He'd put his hair up and have a quick shower, putting on oozing cologne on friday nights before heading off to Nox to do his buisness. I guess he thought he was ought to at least look decent at his nightclub; that place also seemed to be the only thing he found worthy of his time - worthy of a clean cut.

So there I was in the dark hallway of home; the home that housed my personal hell in which I was trapped. In the darkness the seed of a night-flower filled with hope started sprouting carefully inside of me - maybe Parez was not home tonight? The place had remained in complete darkness. Stepping further through the narrow hall, where several empty bottles were piled up, I listened closely to any signs of him being there. Listening after the heavy breathing of someone fast asleep. My heart was thundering; and finally. Finally when I was absolutely sure the only living soul in here was me and my wildly beating heart I could relax. He wasn't home. I let a tensed breath of air escape my before deadly silenced lips.

I just managed to get into that most appreciated dull state of feeling safe for once in days - being alone and alive. That was when the lights flickered on. Like a lightning bolt from my finally peaceful night sky, ripping it apart brutally and blinding me. Making the adrenaline rush out into my so very exhausted body, which almost couldn't handle anymore. Fear was replaced by the leaning towards a simple surrender. With blood frozen in my veins and a heart that felt numb from anxiety; my eyes found the view of a dark familiar figure in my living room. I was not alone but had no more energy to run or hide. I couldn't fight any longer.

please vote & comment

a/n: soo who do you think it is?! Also hope you got to learn a little more about Layla's life with this chapter! Will post next chappie soon - this is the meanest cliffhanger I know *sorry*