A story where a boy meets a girl. Where secrets and lies are always exposed and where the past comes out to play.
*****************************************
"Alexandra, were you just checking me out?"
"I'd much rather shit in my hands and clap."
****...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
For the last couple of years, the nightmares were the sole cause of my insomnia, but tonight it's the incessant yelling and screaming of my neighbor.
Although I'd never met her, the landlord was sure to tell me that she was a sweet, young lady upon moving in. But by listening to the colourful language she's been using for the last 20 minutes, I'd say she has a sass to her that I quite enjoy and relate to.
She's been arguing with a male voice for the past half hour and in the beginning it wasn't as bothersome but now that 1am is rolling around, it's become quite irritating and I don't know how much of this argument I'll be able to listen to anymore.
I throw the blankets off my legs, immediately feeling the cold settle around my bare legs. I quietly make my way to Frankie's room, just to make sure she's still asleep.
She sleeps soundly and it brings a small smile to my face. One that is rarely ever there.
Upon entering the kitchen, I grab a bottle of Gatorade from the fridge and a handful of grapes along with it.
I'm about to make my way back to my bedroom and try to endure the arguing from next door, but a loud bang from next door halts my actions.
My body runs cold.
My mind is running at 100 miles per hour with different scenarios. Was that an object being thrown across the room or worse, a gun shot?
Running back to the kitchen, I rummage through the drawers in a panic trying to find the biggest, most intimidating knife I possibly can.
Grabbing the object by the plastic end, I quickly stumble my way to the front door and remove the chain from the latch. After opening the door, I'm met with an eerie silence and my stomach drops.
The cold evening air engulfs the entirety of my body and I'm visibly shivering. Not quite sure if it's from the cold or the nerves.
The only question running through my mind is how the fuck has nobody else heard that sound?
Cautiously and stealthily I creep through the abandoned and dimly lit corridor. My sock clad feet placed one on front of the other.
My heart rate picks up and my palms moisten, making my grip on the knife loosen just a little.
Standing directly in front of the door proves to be more intimidating than I previously thought.
What am I doing here? What was the plan? A gunman opens the door and I stab him? Solid planning, Alex.
I push all the thoughts back and raise my fist to the door, but before actually knocking, I hear muffled voices coming from the other side.
