A Lost Soul...

Chapter Three: Nikita's House.

Waiting by the rusted school gate, I check the time. 4.05pm. School finished 20 minutes ago. Nikita should be out here and we should be on the way to her house and chatting about our project, but instead I am standing out her in the thick foggy mist. Smoke from the burnouts down the road is carried through the clouded air and makes it way past the gate and up my nostrils. I am spluttering like a tin car. Disturbingly loud. I make my way up to G Block. That is where mine and Nikita's lockers are. I think if I am going to wait for hours I might as well get my chemistry books and pencil case. Turning the scratched combination lock I hear a faint groaning sound. 

"Ummm... Hello? Anyone there? Are you alright?" My voice trails around the shelves of lockers.

"Help... Somebody help me!"

Is that Nikita's voice? It sounds so familiar.

"Nikita? Is that you?" Before I can wait for a response I am tip-toeing over to the battered lockers. Around the corner there are lines of scratched, tattooed and rusted lockers. Along the left hand side hand of the corridor is a block of toilets. The Girls toilets in that block are pretty much the School's burn book so if you want to know what the girls at Chesterton High School think about you check out the walls. My passage is written on cubicle 4 just above the toilet seat. Personally, I would rather listen to the latest Rikita track than sit in their and write paragraphs about others. There is a dark shadowed figure lying up against the wall. Nikita.

"Nikita." I scream out. "Nikita? Are you alright?"

No reply.

"Nikita! Stop mucking around come over here." My voice drifts past her ears. Her head turns slightly. We are now eye to eye. I can feel her faint sniffs and snuffles. Her face is pale yet covered in delicate beads of tears. The tears are covering her face in a shiny layer that gleams under the flickering lights like sparkling headlights in a cool Winter's night.

"Violeta. Help Me...." She is whispering to the empty lockers. They are as lifeless as me. I start to rush over to her that's when I realise that she has been beaten. She is barely able to stand as her fragile legs cannot hold her weight.

"Nikita, do you hear me?"  Her blue eyes are no longer blue. Her eye is red and puffy. A black eye. Her hands are cold yet clammy.  

"Nikita, who did this to you?" 

"One of the boys, He was angry. I stood up for you in class and he didn't like it one bit. So he hit me." She cries faintly as if someone was lurking through the corridors. Is he still around? I suddenly feel the urge that he is watching and that we need to get out of this corridor incase I am the next one to be thrown into a locker and punched in the eye.

"Nikita, let's head back to your house. Your Mum will be worried." I say faintly. She nods in response. Her long tan arm wraps around my feathery black scarf. The fog begins to clear as the gray clouds shift across the sun for the last time today. 

Nikita's house isn't far from the school. We travel on foot through the specks of rain. We arrive at a big white building that at first glance appears to be the white house. Red roses mark out the path and lush green grass is the mat beneath your feet. A little face is sitting on a bay window that looks out onto the street. Nikita's little sister Madi. Her and a white kitten sit on the coloured cushions. Madi is reading to the kitten with a smile on her babyish face.

"This is my house." Nikita says quietly.

We dust off our feet and walk into her mansion of a house. Lavender air freshner bounces through the wide space. Timber floors and white walls with hard wood furniture and soft couches filled with frilly cushions. A blue and green rug is lying underneath the fire and an open plan kitchen leads onto the organised herb garden and beyond the glass doors is a patio area with a barbeque and the odd hose or watering can. A silky white kitten slips across the top of the trellis above the vege garden. Man.... This house was like the house in magazines except more homely and more beautiful.

"Hey Mum." Nikita shouts through into the kitchen as she throws her bag infront of the stairs that are lined with thick and creamy carpet. I wave through to Mrs Garcia as she walks up to us and picks up Nikita's bag.

"Hi Girls. I will bring the sandwiches up to you in a minute. Nikita, Tell your sister as well please." Her voice trails up the stairs.

I follow Nikita up the stairs and into her room. It's beautiful. A double bed is filled with cushions and a soft duvet cover. A massive window looks out onto the lawn and suburb. A desk and chair sit beneath a white board filled with quotes like 'The minute you think of giving up. Think of the reason why you held on so long.' I sit down on her bed.

Nikita knocks on a little girl's door. It's Madi's. Her room is similar to Nikita's in layout, A big window overlooking the rows of trees and a mat of tar. Instead of the window being filled with stationary and organisers like Nikita's, Madi's window is layered with inviting cushions and crevices for her pearl white kitten to bury underneath. Her bed is covered in mounds of teddies and a crocheted blanket marks the end of her bed. White side tables with soft mint lights and a mosquito net drops from the ceiling, the ends caressing the edges of her bed.

 The little white kitten comes out of her room and plonks itself on Nikita's spotty rug that lays near her white desk that is filled with books, paper and colouring pencils.

"Mum, is making sandwiches. Go down stairs if you want some." Nikita yells through Madi's door.

Nikita's eye is shining like the night sky. She doesn't mind. She covers it with some make up. She is beautiful again, if you hadn't of been there about twenty minutes ago you never would have realised that under a layer of sparkles and cream she has an eye that is a mixture of the galaxies. Purple, black, blue and yellow.

I peer over to see her pasting her beautiful face in some weird powder. That is when I see the blade.