Young God [j.valeska]

one

Freya

My tatty converse scuffed on the cracks of the pavement as I trudged down the dark street. The lousy, flickering street lamps were the only source of light in the streets, casting a dim glow onto where I was heading to.

I lifted a cigarette between my lips, carefully lighting it up. I blew out a puff of smoke, looking at the smoke move in swirls and whirls before it escaped into the darkness. I took another drag but I held it in my lungs this time, savouring the taste of the addictive poison. The smoke billowed out smoother than the last one and again I watched it disappear: just like everything else does.

A rush of air blew, whipping my hair backwards. I shivered as the random breeze touched the uncovered parts of my skin, making my body become colder than it was before. I tugged on my loose jumper, seeking warmth as more gusts of winds appeared out of no where.

The familiar cream house came into view and I emitted a small breath of relief as it had just began to rain. I put the cigar out properly and chucked it into a nearby bin, before speed-walking towards the metal gates. I pushed open the gates, leading me to the house. I walked towards the front door, pulling out my house keys and unlocking the dull door, before stepping inside the grateful warmth. I made sure to lock the door behind me, before placing my keys gently onto the table next to me.

"Dad?" I called out, stepping into the hallway and waited a couple of minutes for a reply, yet I heard nothing. I popped my head around the door, into the living room, and saw bottles of liquor covering the carpeted floor. I let out a small sigh and pushed the door fully open, the door creaking a little bit and I fully stepped inside, seeing my Dad's sleeping body lay on the couch, soft snores coming out from his wide-open mouth.

He looked peaceful whenever he was sleeping; never when he was awake.

I picked up a blanket that was neatly wrapped up on one of the other chairs and wrapped it over my Dad's sleeping body. I place a quick kiss to his forehead and exited the living room, entering my bedroom; which was further down the hallway from the living room. It was very small, yet it was a cosy bedroom to stay in. In other words, I loved it even though it looks absolutely terrible. At least I'm lucky enough to have this room and I'm always appreciative of what I have.

I grabbed some sweatpants from my top drawer and a tank top from another. I placed them both onto the bed and walked up to my vanity to grab my brush, brushing through my tangled hair and eventually going over towards the pile of clothing. I took off my clothes that I was wearing and changed into the pile that I layed out on my bed.

Suddenly, I heard my phone's usual text message tone go off and so I instantly snatch it from my bed: hoping it'd be from her. However it wasn't (sadly). Instead it was this crazy son of a bitch, again, sending me multiple text messages.

You know by now where to find me.

Tomorrow at noon.

Don't be late.

Rolling my eyes, I chucked away the pile of clothes I wore today into the shabby washing basket and climbed into the freezing bed. I looked up at the ceiling for a couple of minutes, before feeling my eyes become droopy and I soon fell asleep.

***

"It's done." I stated bluntly to the mysterious white woman, who was facing the window, looking out towards the city of Gotham. When I didn't get an answer, I suspected that she wanted me to leave her alone and I was prepared to just leave here already. I hated being here and I think she knew that. Yet before I could escape, a minion of hers (this woman always has different minions every time I come here) immediately stood in front of the door, blocking the only way out. Unless you count the window.