Creatrix

Chapter 21 - Safe Haven

Anika’s room was stale and claustrophobic. The ceiling, the bland walls, and the four corners hemmed her in. She’d hidden here, alone in her room, only stealing out for food when all was quiet. It was best to keep out of the way. Her bedcovers were crumpled at the end of the bed. She knew she should clean up. Dirty plates and packets littered the floor and her pillowcase lay where she left it , bloodstained on the chair. 

She opened the door to listen for any signs of movement, heard nothing and went downstairs to the kitchen, took out a plastic bag and packed some biscuits, bread, cheese and a carton of milk into it. There was £40 left on the side, presumably for her to get the shopping. She put it in the back pocket of her jeans. 

She was trembling; summoning her courage. It would take all the strength she had to get out of here. She searched the cupboard under the stairs for a sleeping bag, pulled out the shoes and delved into the back. She found it, it smelt dusty, and she took it up to her room. She picked up her bag, emptied her schoolbooks out onto the floor and began to pack. She was determined to leave. She took out a pair of jeans; a couple of tee shirts, and plenty of underwear, rolled the clothes up together and stuffed them into her bag. In the bathroom she bundled a few essentials into a towel and returned to her room almost panting. She picked up her Lightcrystal unit with the charger and rings, put it in the box, and slid it behind her packed clothes. Then, only because she thought that she ought to, she picked up her old math book and tore out a squared page. In blue ink she penned a note.

Dad,

I’m sorry, but I’ve just got to go. I can’t stay here anymore. I’m scared. It’s getting worse, I want to help, but I can’t. I don’t know where I am going, but I will find somewhere. I’ll call you.’  She scribbled. 

She was trying not to cry, and wanted to write ‘I love you,’ but her tears broke, washed down her face, and landed with a dramatic blur on the page. She decided against leaving the note and screwed it up. Anika put on a sweater, picked up her bag and attached her rolled sleeping bag to it. She took a last look back at her plain room, and with no plans or place to go, she left.

Her eyes narrowed to adjust to the hard sunlight outside. She scanned both ways down the road, checking there was no sign of her father, and then she closed the door and hurried along the terraced street. 

She went to the local park and walked for a while before sitting down on a bench to think. Lost in a vast world. How do homeless people sleep, out here in the open, with people walking by? She couldn’t imagine being that exposed. There must be better places to go, hidden places. Wherever she spent her first night of frightened freedom, it would not be a bench in the park. 

Anika had to find better accommodation. She walked through town, past the shoppers wrapped in consumed delight. It was busy here and there were too many pubs so she ducked down the side streets, explored little used alleyways, looking for potential shelter. Anika knew that she was taking a huge risk just to find somewhere where she could feel safe. 

Walking about a mile out of town, she came to a block of flats. Here she thought she might at least find some privacy and climbed the stairs. It was an enclosed stairway, but on each landing there was a wall reaching to waist height with an opening above it, so that you could see outside, each gap was barred with steel tubes painted electric blue. She climbed four levels to the top floor and the stairway went on up. It led to a door without a handle covered with graffiti and there was no opening here, just a small landing. She tried pushing the door. It bounced on the frame, allowing her to catch it with the tips of her fingers, and she opened it out toward her. Inside it was dark and felt warm, she went in checking that the door wouldn’t lock behind her and trap her in there. Anika saw the lock was broken, so she let it go and made her way up the narrow staircase.