It's Just Life

Found A Friend

I woke up to the sound of relentless talking somewhere in the backround. I groggily sat up after a while of blinking my eyes in the low light, trying to force them to stay open. Instant pain spread through my arms as I tensed them. I grimaced at the pain and warily took a look at my hands. The sight made me take a deep breath and my eyes went wide.

Several small cuts were splattered on my abdomen, mostly on my arms. Dark blood rivers had dried on to my skin, making small red stripes appear all over. Puzzled I realized that I had no memory of getting my hands cut, or even bruising them on something.

Actually I'd forgotten lots of details about last night. Everything was blurry and shady, like I had too much to drink.

I'm not quite sure was it because of adrenaline running through my veins or because of the worry for my father.

A feeling of nausea rised to my throat at the thought of my dad. What he must be feeling at this moment.

I distracted myself from the depressing topic by forcing my eyes to look at my arms again. They were black from the slime of the railing, which wasn't that suprising. The slime was sticky like super glue, it's going to take forever to get that stuff off. I sighed in frustration. My muscles were burning from the over use, and just lifting my hand made sharp pain run through.

Helplessly I dropped my gaze to my legs and found them in similar state. Some of the wounds were worryingly deep. They would need nursing, but for my relief all of them had stopped bleeding over night.

I needed a shower, where I could clean the wounds and wash my hair. It felt like there was an ants nest in my head, and my blond hair had probably turned brown because of the lack of showering and the slime last night.

I gazed at my unused bedroom, my neck cranking at the movement. I could see the sun rising from the horizon through the balcony door, the happy sound of chirping birds reaching my ears. I estimated the time was somewhere around half nine.

In the room there were no furniture, just dust covering the floor and some of the walls. I could imagine dozens of spiders crawling in the ceiling, ready to strike and attack me. I cringed at the unpleasening thought and tried to shake it out of my head.

The blankets that I had slept on where the only items in the room, expect for a small bag in the cornor.

"I have such lovely furniture in my home." I thought sarcastically to myself as I slowly got up. My back ached from the pain of sleeping on the hard floor but I ignored it as the a voice raised its volume downstairs.

"Do you know where she is? Have any of you even tried to call her?" The woman asked a person on the other side of the phone. The Child Services woman. Her annoyed, high pitched voice squaked through the house making me want to cover my ears. She sounded like an angry six year old who wasn't getting what she wanted.

Drawing in a breath I realized that the she was speaking about me. She mumbled something with a lower voice making it impossible for me to hear what she was saying.

"Okay, give me the address. I'll go there now."

My eyes flew to the bedroom door as a thought occured me. The door opens straight to the stairs, which lead straight to the hall. So if I open the door, the hallway would be in my sight.

If she walks by I might be able to see her. Quickly deciding I, as quietly as possible, tiptoed to the door. I ignored the pain that crept up my arms and slowly cracked it open. Little whining sound followed, but it was too low for the woman to hear. I peeked through the small hole.

Staring back at me from downstairs was a woman's back. She was wearing a black pleated skirt and matching jacket, and her auburn hair was in a professional bun. She looked shorter than I am, even with her sleek high heels on. As she turned I got a glimpse of her face. Her skin was porcelain and absolutely flawless, if not including couple lines of aging on her forehead. She had small features with a sharp, straight nose. Her grey eyes were surrounded by black eyeliner, giving her the expression of a hungry hawk. Her other hand was on the phone while the other one was quickly writing something to a piece of paper. She hurriedly ended the call, snatched the paper from the table and scurried right out of the door. She carelessly threw the door shut making it slam close with a loud bang.