DEMONS ~ Bellarke

0.2 Clarke

Clarke

7:43pm

Her footsteps echoed through the hallway. She walked slow and calmly as she made her way to her apartment door. It was a hot day in New York, Clarke thought as she wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead.

Taking her keys from her pocket she quietly unlocked her door. The only sound coming from the small 400 square feet apartment was the air conditioning running. Clarke closed the door behind her and stood there in the front hall. She sighed. It was quiet, too quiet.

However, that's the way it always was for her. She went to work, walked home, and spent the rest of her night reading, working, or watching television, alone. She had been alone for most of her life. After 14 long years in New York's crappiest orphanage, she had managed to impress a writing firm with her abilities and became a writer for the local paper. Moving out of the orphanage when she turned 18 was scary, especially not having anywhere to go or anyone to go to. But she made a life and she was proud. She was used to it. She had always been alone.

Clarke hung her bag on the hooks beside her door and shook her light jacket off. Walking through the apartment, she put the kettle on and took out a tea bag. Grabbing a pack of cigarettes, she walked over to the balcony and swiftly lit one.

Inhale, Exhale. Her body started to relax as the first inhale hit her lungs. It was a horrible habit but she couldn't shake it and frankly it was the only thing that kept her sane in this shitty city. After finishing the cigarette she put it out in an ash tray and walked back inside to have tea and do some work.

Pulling her hair into a pony tail, she rubbed the bridge of her nose and grabbed her laptop from her bag. After opening it, Clarke grabbed the tv remote and switched channels till she got to the news.

Clarke had been working on an article for almost an hour when the news cast started showing todays stories from downtown New York.

There had been a murder. Just a couple towns over. Clarke grabbed the remote and turned the volume up.

The tv shows an ally that is sectioned off with crime scene tape and police officers all over the place. There is a black tarp placed over what can only be a body just behind the yellow tape.

A news anchor starts talking : Mark Jefferies was found stabbed to death in an ally just off Carmen street. He was found early this morning by two pedestrians on a walk. The police currently have no leads but are continuing the investigation and will be updating the public should they find any suspects.

Clarke inhaled sharply. She wasn't exactly scared, being scared wasn't something that happened to her often. She felt a rush go through her as goosebumps appeared on her arms.

It was a strange thing, death. How someone's life could be taken so suddenly from them.

However, Clarke thought, it was nothing she should think too much about. She muted the tv and continued working on the article that would needed to be handed in that following morning.

~

1:07am

She awoke with a start, the heat from her laptop awakening her from her sleep.

"Shit." she muttered. Groaning and stretching her arms above her head, she looked at the time. It was already 1am? When had she fallen asleep?

Clarke groggily pushed her laptop to the side, quickly checking if she had finished the article which, luckily, she had. Shutting the tv off and putting her finished cup of tea in the sink, she headed off to her bedroom to head to bed.

Practically falling into her comfy bed, she wrapped the blankets around her and felt herself sinking into a deep sleep.

~

7:00am

The sound of Clarke's alarm woke her up from a dream that she knew was good but she couldn't quite remember. Looking over at the clock, she rubbed her eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me." She groaned as she realized she forgot to take off her makeup and it was smudged all over her hands.

Hopping out of bed, she walked towards the bathroom and turned the shower nob on. She stripped her clothes off and sleepily stepped into the shower. The warm water felt amazing on her skin especially washing away yesterdays makeup, and started to wake her up.

She lathered soap into her hair and washed it, massaging her head and enjoying the couple minutes of relaxation she had in the shower.

After washing her hair and body, Clarke turned the shower off and stepped out, grabbing the white fluffy towel on the hook and wrapping herself in it. She sat and opened some drawers and got out the makeup she was going to put on. Foundation, mascara and bronzer was all she needed for her basic everyday makeup look.

Clarke was pretty. Long blonde hair that was naturally pretty curly framed her face and deep blue eyes, she had the look that most girls would kill for. However, she never saw this. Looking at herself in the mirror she smiled, but it didn't look real. She couldn't look at her reflection and see something pretty. Clarke just couldn't seem to like herself despite how much she tried.

Sighing, Clarke started to blow dry her hair and it didn't take long for it to be completely dry. It dried nice curls (for once) so she didn't need to do anything else to it. Getting up, she walked towards her closet to pick out an outfit for the day. She went with a white blouse that tied at the front with some black dress pants. She picked up a couple bracelets as well as a bunch of rings and put those on as well. Quickly grabbing her favourite perfume, a soft vanilla scent, she headed out of her room.

Grabbing her sunglasses, she picked up her laptop from the couch as well as her phone and put them both in her bag walking towards the front door. Her television was still on, muted, as she never turned it off.

Walking right by it, she missed the news anchor explaining how there had been another murder, just down the street from her.

Not seeing the television, Clarke slipped on some loafers, praying that today would go well and that she wouldn't feel so down, as she so often did.

~

Short little chapter, just an intro to Clarke. 

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