Chapter 2 (Edited)

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The bartender soon returned with my drink, sliding a glass across the old wooden counter top towards me. It was filled to the brim with a presumably alcoholic liquid, some of which spilt over the edges onto the already stained counter.

"It's cider." Supplied the bearded bartender as he took in my wary gaze at the glass. With a silent nod of acknowledgement, I clasped my hands around the glass and took a tentative sip. The taste of the familiar sweetness with a kick reassured me that the barman was being truthful. I glanced up to look for any sign to identify how much I would owe, my eyes settling on a wooden board with the printed prices. Pulling my bag into my lap, I pulled out the money I owed and placed it on the counter. The bartender returned glancing quickly at the coins that lay on the counter before pocketing them. I gently dropped my bag under my stool before continuing to sip on my cider and glanced absentmindedly around the bar. I felt a small pang as I stared at the people, who seemed liked regulars, who sat laughing around a small table. They were all older, with greying hair and beards and eyes surrounded by laugh lines, from a full and happy life. One of them, I thought, reminded me slightly of my Grandfather, but I hadn't seen him in a long time and may have simply been searching for a likeness that wasn't there. Trying to find any kind of familiar face. I hadn't seen my family in over a year, that had passed as slow as a century. I felt my eyes prickle as I tried to imagine their faces, what they would look like now, before giving my head a rough shake to pull myself from the memories. I couldn't think about that. I wouldn't allow myself. Still I was lonely, with no one to talk to. The last time I had had any friends had been around 2 months ago, I recounted. I had managed to get a small apartment and a job at a small café. I had become quite close with another waitress called Rachel. I smile tugged at my lips as I remembered my old friend. She has constantly teased me about my young age and had been very kind. However, she had always been too curious, wondering why my parents were always away on business, a lie I had told so that no one would question a 15-year-old living on her own. She had been the one to discover the truth and had reported it to our boss. She had only been trying to help me but it had meant that I had had to leave. They would have reported the truth to someone and they might take me to a home and then they could find out who I was. And I couldn't allow that to happen.

Suddenly the doors of the bar swung open with a loud bang, jarring me back to reality, and causing the bitingly cold wind to blow into the bar, which sent a shiver down my spine. A burly, dark haired and leather jacket wearing man strolled into the bar letting the heavy door slam behind him. A couple of heads turned to glance at him for a second but no one in the pub took real notice the new arrival. Except of course me. The man had captured all of my attention. He swaggered without hesitation to the bar and slipped onto a seat a couple down from mine, on the least occupied side. Summoning the barman with a simple nod of his head. He looked pretty menacing, wide shouldered and buff, however, there was something about him that made me think that he wasn't just the tough guy. My gaze was fixed on the man for some reason, unknown in that moment, and I hadn't realised how intently I had been staring until I saw his shoulder tense and he shifted in his seat towards me. My heart began to thud as our eyes met before I jolted, my eyes dropping to stare at the floor. My eyebrows furrowed as I puzzled over what I had just seen. I had been right that he wasn't like the other alcoholic bums in the bar. His eyes, that had been so intense with annoyance while they had stared into mine, had been the oldest eyes I had ever seen. They looked to have seen a long life, despite the youth of the man and seemed to have been hardened by great hardship and seen everything horrible that life had to offer.

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