Finding Her (urban)

Chapter 2 - There was no light at the end of the tunnel

My mother was out before the sun could even greet the skies with it's piercing light; she just left me here with no note or anything. She could have at least left me a bottle of liquor, inconsiderate.

Emerging from my bed, I ran my fingers through my unruly curls that spiralled out of control down to my waist. It had been long since I gave them a good wash with some conditioner.

I sniffed in the air imagining the aroma of bacon invading my breathing passages, instead I was hit with the smell of mould and wet clothes. It hadn't dawned on me completely that I needed to be out by 12pm today and here I was still seated on this uncomfortable bed doing nothing as usual. If there was a laziness award, I'd come 1st 2nd and 3rd place, I had enough laziness for three people.

Sighing, I looked down at my out dated bratz t-shirt that had journeyed with me through my childhood to my adolescent years and now stopped above my belly button. I was searching for this body my mother spoke of; I pushed out my chest imagining more fuller breasts that the women in the magazines sported, at least my stomach was flat. I poked at my belly button, a piercing would look good here. My hands roamed my smooth vanilla coloured thighs, they were thick but shapely. They weren't as long as my mother's but I could work with them, I stood at 5'2 but somebody's gonna love this short ass someday.. Hopefully.

I jumped up quickly and ran into the bathroom to do some more inspection. I stripped myself out of my extra small clothing and span around slowly in front of the full length rusting mirror a couple times. Each time I'd pull at a different area of my body thinking of ways I could modify it. I had definitely inherited mother's Colombian hips and butt that could rival J'lo and Beyoncé's.

I wasn't told directly that I wasn't beautiful; I just felt that way. I had no interest in the opinions of how men felt about my appearance even though men rarely looked at me. It was the way my mother always tried so hard to pin my looks on the man she despised so much, my father. That's probably why she wasn't home as much, I reminded her too much of the man who stole her heart and returned it with puncture wounds. If she paid more attention to me, she'd see that she wasn't the only broken one here, I just wanted a 'I love you hija', 'I'm proud of you hija', instead I got a drug and alcohol addicted mother who fucked men for money. She never once laid her hands on me, sometimes I wish she did so I could feel something from her, anything. I was tired of being invisible to the world even though I hid in this box for two years.

She probably hadn't paid the gas bill so as usual a cold shower would have to suffice. As I turned on the tap, I was surprised to feel warm water spraying out and I wasn't about to find out why before the cold water made it's appearance. I quickly got in and noticed that the shower gels had been topped up, even the shampoos and hair conditioners. This was not normal. I took advantage of this and used them all, I deserved it somewhat. As I scrambled out of the shower into my room, I noticed something that I didn't notice when I woke up; my shoe collection was missing. All my sketchers, sandals and boot leg uggs were gone.

Infuriated, I opened my wardrobe only to be surprised by all the new clothes and shoes sprawled out at the base of the wardrobe. I weaved my way through all the new material that I could never afford until now until I reached the back, I almost believed in narnia for a second. At the back was a note attached to the wall which I ripped off and read: We're still getting evicted, but here's a head start to your new life. Don't try to find me, this is a gift from me to you. Use that body.

I knew it was too good to be true. I pulled off the large suitcase from the top of my wardrobe and started throwing everything inside, the clothes, the heels and an envelope? As I opened the thick envelop carelessly, hundreds of dollars fell out. What was more surprising was the fact that there were more envelops stacked in the back of my wardrobe. The money certainly didn't belong to me, and I'm sure it didn't belong to the land lord so I'll kindly protect it. I stuffed everything into my suitcase and looked around suspiciously, paranoia was creeping up on me.

Lifting up the handle of the suitcase, I hurriedly strolled out of the old apartment that I called home with no destination in mind. I never noticed how dirty and run down our neighbourhood actually was. Crack heads loitered the streets on every corner and for every 3 crackheads there was one dope dealer rocking the lasted Js; I gripped my bag tightly and hailed a taxi on the main road receiving looks from many hungry eyes. It was probably the dress I wore from my mother's whoring collection, it wasn't too short but hugged my curves well.

'Where to?' The middle aged Italian driver eyed me up with lust filled eyes.

I had never received this kind of attention before and it made me sick, something was telling me to leave the car but I couldn't show any weakness; this was the new me.

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, 'Hilton hotel.'

It seemed like we had been driving for hours and each road he pulled into looked further away from the streets of NY. There were no houses, tall buildings or even people in sight.

'Stop the cab,' I tapped the back of his chair.

'But we're not home yet sweetheart,' he grinned in the car mirror; my stomach churned as I witnessed the yellow and green stains on his teeth; two were missing. His hand reached the back of the car and landed on my knee; he began to rub it in a circular motion causing the dead skin on his ashy hand to peel on to my leg. I flung his hand away only for it to come down harder in an unmovable grip.

'Behave nigg*r,' he spat, pulling out an item from his jean pocket. I quickly turned my head away, I didn't want to see my murder weapon. So this is what was outside... This is what I hid from these years. His fingers crept up higher as the car came to a halt and that was when the urge to survive kicked in. My legs started flapping everywhere, I was not about to die out here by the hands of some perverted racist.

His fist connected to my jaw, knocking my head backwards; I didn't really know how to fight as I never really had to in life. In school I was pretty much ignored, never had I been the confrontational type but right now I was wishing I paid more attention to rush hour so I could channel my inner jackie chan.

Finally out of my starry daze, I realised he was no longer in the front of the car and was opening the back door. As soon as he reached for my leg, I swung my heel into his face and kept kicking with my eyes closed; stupid mistake. My aimless kicks weren't hitting a surface anymore; I opened my eyes to see no one there anymore.

All of a sudden, arms had wrapped around my shoulders and my body was being dragged out from the other side. My arms instinctively wrapped around his arms, clawing away at the sleeved material that covered his well built arms but to no avail. My body grew tired after all my harassing as the energy I once had slowly dissipated. In replace came my sobs and sinister laughter from my captor who had now dragged me into a deserted alleyway.

He threw me on to the ground and started fumbling with his pants on top of me. His mouth met my neck, instantly attacking my precious skin with his chapped lips. His hand skimmed across my underwear a couple times before ripping it off and that's when the adrenaline clicked back in. I pulled his head back with as much force, digging my thumb into his eyes. He wailed out in pain for a second before he started assaulting my face with his fists. Blow after blow, I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness but that didn't deter me. With both of our goods exposed, I was not risking it.

I lay limp pretending to be unconscious waiting for him to try and position himself before I kneed him right in his private area. He flipped over in pain holding on to his three inch excuse of a penis cursing me in Italian. I picked up the remains of my underwear as I crawled out of the alley, too weak to actually walk. As the light at the end got closer, I felt two arms wrap around one ankle trying to twist it. It was obvious only one of us could leave here alive and I was not dying today.

I flipped on my back to loosen his grip; raising my legs, I smashed the heel of my foot on his skull and kept thrashing at it until I saw blood. This was not enough; I kicked and kicked until my legs succumbed to the pain in my muscles.

Now I could rest, my mind spoke before I could argue. My eyelids finally gave in to the darkness.

*pic of Ariana in the MM*

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