On the train to my new apartment it was silent. Everyone was silent all you could hear was the noise of the engine rattling away. I rest my head on the window listening to music. The train stops but it's not my stop yet, no,I still have 5 hours left. I feel a tap on my shoulder all of a sudden and I turn to see a tall boy, with dirty blond wavy hair starring at me. I take out my earphones and ask
" Can I help you?"
He answers sarcastically
" well there is nowhere else to sit."
I look around scanning to the seats to check, but before I could say anything he sits down anyway. There was a eerie silence between us, I go back to listening to my music.
Quietly he says
"You don't talk much do you."
I reply
"That's because I don't know you."
"Well let's get to know each other then."
He turns his body towards me and out stretches his hand
"Clay."
He says expecting a reply. I look at his hand then look at him.
"Isla."
I shake his hand and turn away.
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He didn't speak to me for the whole 5 hours after that. I would of ignored him anyway. Just as we were stopping at my stop I go to get up and he pulls me by my jacket and says,
" I hope we meet again."
He lets go of my jacket and smiles; I walk away dazed.
I walk the damp and could streets of New York trying to get a cab for the ride to my apartment. Finally a cab stops and I tell her my location and we set off. On the way there I looked out the window intently for nothing, all the street lights were lit and are vibrant. I stare up at the tall buildings wondering how high they are, all of a sudden my sight is grasped by a person, I have seen this person before, it was the woman in my closet from years ago hanging form water pipe I stare and I stare until we have driven so far away I can't see the light she was near anymore. I suddenly felt sick and thought I was going to throw up.
I say
"Stop the car."
The woman driving explains
" I can't do that we are on in the middle of the road."
"STOP THE FUCKING CAR!"
I yell from the passenger seat. I look on the mirror to see the drivers concerned face. I jump out the car before we could even stop properly and I run up the street to find the woman had gone.
YOU ARE READING
The Apartment
Terrorwarning: ART IS NOT MINE This story will contain: -suicide references -death -kissing (nothing more) -gore/blood -mentions of blades Your are 18 and have decided move out of your parents house and get a apartment to start your own life. But strang...