Hullo again!
Newest chapter of The Lost One for you. Chapter eight to be exact, again this is kind of a filler. I need to get her in a certain place, but I don't want it to be too abrupt.
On a personal note, I got asked out a couple days ago. -____- I feel kind of bad I'm not excited about it, but eh what can you do?
-Zoe Ariana
The city was a collage of smog and various colorful curses. Cars clogged the streets constantly and people huddled in on the sidewalks walking in masses that were akin to brick walls. It was into this ocean of people that I walked, moving without even really having to move, my feet not even touching the ground at moments. Down the sidewalk they carried me until abruptly I broke off down a less crowded street.
I walked to the bookstore that I worked at, going around the side of it and squeezing through a small alley until I was at the backdoor. I unlocked the door and was about to push it open when I heard it. A rustling that was abruptly cut off by a large bang. I jumped and turned just in time to see my father charging out at me from behind the dumpster.
I screamed and pushed at the door, finding it jammed. A panicked noise escaped my throat as I threw my weight against it. There was a scraping noise and my eyes darted to the side to see my father slip on a piece of plastic and loose his footing. I hit the door again and watched as he slammed into the brick wall. The door budged a bit and I hit again, throwing my weight against it once more. It would figure, I thought to myself, that the door would choose today to stick.
A grunt followed and some more scraping and once again I threw my weight against the door, letting out a small scream when it flew open and I landed on the hardwood floor of the bookstore.
“Evangeline!” he screamed.
I screamed again and spun around on the floor my hands reaching for the door and my legs tucking themselves in. I caught a glimpse of my father pushing off against the wall he had slammed into and running at me again.
“Evangeline, you bitch!” he grunted, his steps coming closer.
I gripped the edge of the door and pushed, bringing my legs around to push it shut right as my father slammed into it. The door vibrated, shaking in the frame before settling. Quickly I sat up and twisted the lock on the door knob before fumbling with the chain and deadbolt. I slid the chain in when his body slammed against it once more.
I screamed and slapped a hand to my mouth the other still fumbling with the deadbolt as my father yelled, “Dammit, Evangeline. Open the god damn door!”
I slid the lock home and then turned around to press my back against the door before sliding down, a sob racking my body. My hands shook and I covered my face with them, tears streaming down my face. Hysteria rose in my throat as the events of last night replayed themselves, from coming home until today, in the alleyway.
I sat sobbing until the banging on the door and the cursing ceased, at which point I had managed to calm down. I sat for a minute, my tears beginning to dry on my face and a pressure began to build behind my eyes. I pressed the heel of my palm to them before letting out one last shuddering breath.
Silently, I got up and walked on unsteady legs to the squeaky rolling chair behind the counter when the doorknob on the backdoor twisted and stopped meeting the resistance of the lock. I held my breath as a jingling reached my ears and watched as the doorknob twisted again before stopping from the deadbolt.
An impatient knock sounded at the door before the irritated voice of my boss, Charlene came through, “Evy? I know you’re in there. Do you think maybe you could, oh I don’t know, open the damn door and let me into my own shop?”
I let out the breath I had been holding and walked back to the door, sliding open the deadbolt and the chain. I opened the door and looked at her for a moment, studying her pinched face, her pixie nose scrunched up along with her forehead and her small lips pursed. A pair green eyes looked at me through slitted lids before she opened her mouth again, the sharp New York accent lashing at me, “Well, you just gonna stand there looking like a deer in headlights or are you gonna move your skinny ass out the damn door?” She didn’t wait for an answer, pushing past me instead.
I closed the door again and locked up before turning to see that Charlene had disappeared into her office. I giggled for a moment before laughing full out. It sounded demented, the laugh of someone in an asylum.
“Would you stop your cacklin'? I thought I told ya’ to catalog these books! Would ya’ stop it already? You look like one of ‘dem hyenas of the Lion whatsit,” Charlene chastised coming out of her office, “Well, go on then, get off your lazy ass and catalog these damn books. I don’t pay your skinny ass to walk around laughing. This isn’t the comedy corna’, do your damn work.”
I stopped laughing abruptly and the urge to cry rose once again, but I pushed it back and went to the storage room by Charlene’s office to grab the newest shipment of self-help books.
Alright darlings,
So this is kind of late. Okay, really late, and I am sorry for that, but it's here now, and though not my personal favorite I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
I might end up rewriting this, but I really wanted to get something out to you guys.
