New Chains, Same Shackles|| Book II

Chapter 4: April Mourning

I sat halfway with my leg propped up on my window sill smoking a cigarette. It was the first warm day of the season as the sunlight beamed down on my pale face. I relish the light breeze flowing through the window and decide to hop out onto the fire escape instead.

I craved the warmth on my scattered tattooed arms only wearing a baggy graphic tee and some underwear. I rest my hands on the fire escape railing and watch the neighborhood teenagers run around playing basketball down below.

A light smile makes its way onto my face as a cigarette hangs from my bottom lip. They reminded me of the good old days when I would sit on my porch drawing and watching the guys run with the ball up and down the cul-de-sac outside.

My smile wavers at the once bliss memory. I turn around and lean my body against the railing taking one last hit of my cigarette before twisting it out on the metal rail. That's when I feel something lightly hit the top of my foot.

I peer down confused and go to pick up the tiny pebble near my foot. That's when I see another shoot past me before hearing a high-pitched whistle from below. That finally catches my attention and I quickly furrow my eyebrows looking down to see the last person I thought or wanted to see anytime soon.

I grit my teeth and roll my eyes before deciding to ignore the whole situation and go back inside. I duck through the window back into my room and shut him out harshly before going over and laying back down on my bed in irritation.

I glance around my still room trying to forget the sight of his gaunt face but my hyperactive thoughts and peaked curiosity made it impossible to do so. I sit up rubbing my tired eyes before sighing and quickly getting up before I change my mind again.

I bend down grabbing a random pair of distressed jeans off my floor and toss them on before jogging down the apartment buildings stairs. When I get outside I see him patiently waiting with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his basketball shorts behind the fence.

My breath falters slightly and I began rethinking if I'm making the right decision or not as I continue to stroll closer to the lanky tattooed figure.

"Was wonderin' when you'd pop by—" I say sarcastically trying my best to avoid any awkward tension, "—so? what took ya so long?" I ask Scrim nonchalantly as I step out through the gate.

I gulp faintly once I notice how close we now were. I stare up at Scrim and become unnerved under his piercing blue eyes. I study him in awe at the way he's grown and matured since the last I'd saw him. He might as well be a complete stranger to me.

I truly didn't know who this person was standing in front of me. Not only did I not recognize his new face tat, dread-headed persona but you couldn't feel the tight bond between us that we once shared. It must've died along with me the day that they left.

Scrim wet his lips a little before biting the inside of his cheek highly strung as I wait for an answer, "told myself you'd be better off but I couldn't sit back and do nothin' y'know? I needa do this, least for myself," Scrim explains looking down at his white Jordan's as we subconsciously begin walking down the street together.

"Ruby beat ya to the whole speech bullshit, I gave him my answer what makes ya think you'll be any different?" I said peering at the side of his face, his cheekbones prominent and sunken in.

Scrim shrugs fiddling with the chains around his neck, "Then fuck that, I ain't here to argue wit ya. Let's not talk bout what happened in the past. We all made own mistakes how 'bout we just forget and start over."

"Hmph," I try not to scoff at him as I lightly drag my feet scuffing the bottom of my boots against the concrete as we wander to nowhere in particular, "You say that like it's easy."