Graffiti Girl // Michael Clifford

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We're always running away. And we don't even stop to think about it. The world's in our hands. Yeah. They don't need to understand. We do it all our way. No matter what they try to say about it. We've got our own plans. Yeah. They don't need to understand.

«They Don't Need To Understand» Andy Black

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"Wake up! Andi!"

"What is it R?" I grumble, cuddling back into the covers.

"There's someone coming up the stairs!" she whisper-yells at me as I pull myself up off the pillow.

I rub my eyes and grab the baseball bat we keep by the bed. Hey! Don't judge! We are two high schoolers who spend the majority of our lives in an abandoned warehouse. We have to have something to protect ourselves and a gun would just be too messy.

I stand up from the mattress, leaving Arabella cowering behind a blanket. I swear, the girl is all tough and shit until we are alone in the dark... or there's a spider. Then she may as well be a pissing toddler.

"Get him! Hit his head!" R hisses from the bed.

"Shh!" I snap back at her.
I walk carefully to the stairway. Once I'm close, I can definitely hear footsteps climbing towards us.

I quickly move, doing my best in remaining silent against the concrete floor, to press my back against the wall beside the door when the sound is probably just about reaching the fourth floor.

Seconds later, the knob jingles, signally someone turning it from the other side. This would be a great time to have a working lock on the door.

Slowly, the door is pushed open. It's too dark to decipher a face, but the shadow is distinctively male.

He still hasn't noticed me. The door is wide open as he looks around trying to make heads or tails or his surroundings. He begins to take a step into the room. I raise my elbows behind me and swing the bat around towards his silhouette.

"What the fuck?!" the voice calls out and breaks the eerie silence, then ducking under the swinging stick.

I ignore his call and swing the bat at him once more, letting out an aggressive grunt. I almost hit his torso before he jumps out of the way. I lose sight of his shadow in the hustle, so I quickly spin around to relocate the intruder. The dark is disorienting, and suddenly I feel myself being pushed back against the wall with a strong arm pressed across my chest.

"Let me go!" I cry and try to break free. Unfortunately, he has the bat pinned across my torso, keeping my elbows placed firmly against the cement walls. I can feel his heavy breaths fan across my face as we continue our struggle.

Suddenly, a light is flicked on from across the room. I look over to see R standing by one of the lamps we have set up around the room, holding a pink spray paint can in her hand held up ready to spray but not moving from her safe distance from both me and the intruder. Great help, R.

"What do you want?!" I scream, flicking my attention back to the intruder. Now that I can see his features, I'm surprised to find an admittedly attractive boy about our age a few inches from my face.

"What do I want?! You're the one going bat-crazy!" he yells.

"Yeah, well I'm not the one sneaking around a dark warehouse in the middle of the night!" I shout back.

"No! You're just the one hanging out in a dark warehouse in the middle of the night!"

"Would you just let me go?!" I grunt, frustrated.