Sunshiny Things (Original)

Ch. 11 This Is My Home

Cole

Two hours have past once I finally finish with all my writing. Well, more like random scribbles. I wrote a couple of poems, wrote down a couple of random thoughts that have been swimming around in my head for awhile. Writing and reading are the only two things that allow me to breath for only just a moment. Its makes me feel like I'm anywhere else besides this shitty place that is my life.

I gently place the notebook back in its hiding place before dusting off myself and exiting the rink. Under the bleachers it's dusty as hell. They really need to upgrade their janitor staff. I would never be able to survive if there were that much dust in my room.

"Shit," I mutter as I step outside. Rain falls down on me, causing me to shiver and I wrap my arms around myself. "just what I need." I stammer over to my car, which is now also soaked, and jump into it for shelter. The engine rumbles as I start it up and drive off out the parking lot. I make my way down the crowded streets and past the run down buildings of New York. New York is always busy, by no surprise. But when it rains it usually gets even more chaotic then usual. I grip the steering wheel as some dick decides to cut me off. I guess you can say I just have a pinch of road rage. Actually I have a pinch of all kinds of rage.

"Screw this." I make some tiny illegal turns and shimmy my car through traffic until I end up on some backstreet. I've taken this rode once before awhile back as a short cut to my apartment complex. I have no idea what the name of it is. All I know is it's a lot damn faster then the main streets. I drive down the street of the quaint little neighborhood that's I've landed in. All the houses are very...generic and suburban. They all almost look the same. I turn one corner to the left and continue to drive. I push on the gas petal a little bit harder once I realize the neighborhood has no speed bumps placed in it. I look to my right and watch as all the trees and houses start to move past faster and faster with everything harder push I endure of the gas petal. But my tires instantly come to a screeching halt once something catches my eye. I squint my eyes a little as I look past my window and the raindrops covering it to get a better view of what is on the other side of my car door. The burnt house...Freya's burnt broken house stands outside. Gosh, it looks even more tragic in person. Now I feel like an even bigger asshole for before. I scan the property a little longer, my eyes examining every inch. My eyes scan over to the mailbox to my surprise is actually still perfect. But then I notice...her.

"Annie?" I ask myself questionably. I quickly open my car door and rush out of the car and over to her. Freya is clinging onto the post of the perfect mailbox for dear life. Drenched from the rain and shivering form the cold winds.

"Freya?" I ask softly. "What the hell?" I look down at her in shock. She still wearing the dress from last night, but her hair and makeup is a complete mess. I reach down and touch her arm but she jumps away from my touch and continues to blank stare at the ground. Shit, she freezing. If she doesn't get inside she's going to get extremely sick. Not that I care that much. But what kind of human would I be to just let her sit here and freeze her ass off. "Come on, lets get you up." I remove my jacket form my body and place it over her shoulders before leaning down and attempting to pull her off the soaked grass.

"No!" she screams at me as she swats her hands at mine like a crazed person. I take a step back from her and stare cautiously. She looks so unfamiliar right now. She wraps her arms back around the pole and counties to grip and stare back at the ground, tears steam down her face but she doesn't react to them. "I can't. I don't want to," mutters so softly I almost can't here.

"Can't what, go back home?" I ask.

"This is my home," she responds weakly.I shake my head and run my hands through my hair. She's so stubborn and frustrating. Doesn't she know that if she continues to sit here she could get really hurt. Emotionally and physically.