Live-In Strangers

CHAPTER 1: Would you live with me?

My life wasn't exactly the worst.

I mean, I have a pair of hands, pair of perfectly well feet, complete fingers and toes, I can see, I can speak, I can hear, and I can smell. Nothing's missing to me, apart from a father. And a responsible and caring mother, perhaps.

But all in all, I am a healthy female young adult.

"You fucking slut! You ruined my life! You and your useless father! Just sell yourself to some rich, wrinkly old man, maybe by then your existence won't be so pointless and would be useful to me for once!"

I grabbed my shoulder bag and an old grey hoodie of mine.

Fatima, the woman who was yelling at me at the moment and happened to be my biological mother as well, was drunk. She would be at it for more hours if I stayed within her sight. Which, unfortunately, would be the only choice I got if I don't leave the apartment right now, since there's no such thing as room or divider here. And if I did stay, I would either end up getting bruises and cracked lips, or damaged hearing. So, I would rather leave.

"What? Where are you going? You're going to leave? Then leave! You're really like your father! All you know is how to walk away and run from all your problems and responsibilities! Go! Go and leave! Don't you ever set a foot in here ever again, you filthy whore!"

Geez. I could recite all her lines by now. It's all the same whenever she's drunk, honest.

She's a bit different when she's sober, though. She'd just give me cold shoulders, ask me to leave the apartment whenever she's bringing home a client from the club she's working at, and then give me a pocket money, which I would have to budget until she felt like giving me money again.

She's not the best mother in the world as anyone could tell. Hell, she's hardly even a mother. But like her to me, I have no choice but to stay here-with her. Because whether we admit or not, we're both alone. The both of us know that without each other, the void that we're running away from would finally catch up, and eat us as whole. And we're afraid of that happening.

On a still-dark but consoling side, I'm an adult now. I no longer need to eat one bread a day to make sure that the money she gave me would last longer and I wouldn't starve to death. There are options for me to choose from. I can work when I don't have a money, and I can leave the house to escape her drunk blames and miserable cries.

But... sometimes, I just wanna disappear, you know? For like, forever.

Because the truth is? I'm exhausted of this kind of life.

I stopped walking down the quiet road where few cars pass by occasionally and sat at the edge of the pavement. My legs were folded, pulled closer to my chest. I pulled the hood up to cover my head and rested my head on my arms above my knee.

The earphones in my ears were playing a random song with upbeat music but depressing lyrics. Way to mask a person's vulnerability and instability.

I felt like crying. I don't even have a dream. Why can't I just... end this all?

While I was drowning in the middle of my distressing thoughts, the lights from across the streets were blocked by something. That's when I realized that there was a vehicle couple of steps away from me.

This is literally a highway. There's no such thing as stoplights or traffic which would require the cars to stop, unless they ran out of gas or something.

I looked up.

In front of me was a black, luxurious car. Its window was rolled down.

Curious, I pulled myself up. That was when I saw the driver of the car.

He was wearing a suit that looks expensive, like it was a signature, exclusively made for him. His one hand was on the steering wheel, the other was resting on the opened window beside him.

He smiled, moved his hand from steering wheel to wave at me. "Hey."

I didn't answer, but I stared at him. And made it painfully obvious.

"Don't feel like going home?" He spoke again. The corner of his lips was still up. His tone was neither scary nor threatening. It sounds friendly, even. Making him appear more suspicious.

Once again, I didn't answer.

He doesn't seem to care whether or not I respond, though. His smile didn't fade and he didn't look annoyed for being deliberately ignored.

"How old are you?" he then asked.

I don't know his goal for talking to me, but this time, I took off my earphones. "Twenty," I replied.

I could sense danger. I'm not stupid.

But at that moment, I felt like humoring the dubious stranger.

His lips moved into a small pout. He looked in front, and then back to me. His eyes seemed to study the parts of me that he could see, before looking back into my eyes.

"Say, do you wanna live with me?"

Huh?

Is he mistaking me for a pick-up girl? But isn't living with him a bit too far? Did he mean sleep with him?

Is he a criminal? He doesn't look like a good guy, but he looks decent. In fact, he looks more than just decent.

"... How old are you?"

The strange guy's brows moved. "Oh. Me? I'm twenty-eight."

"You're too old for me. And you're not my type."

"So, is that a no?"

I relaxed my shoulders.

People might judge me for my decision, but at this point, I have nothing to lose.

I crossed the remaining distance of the car from me. I opened the door and went in without second thoughts. After settling in, I closed the door and turned to him.

"Let's go home."

His reddish lips formed a smirk. "Sure. Seatbelts please."

It's weird. It's weird how he pulled up in front of me and asked some random person to live with him. It's weird how I just agreed. And it's weird how for once, I felt like I am freed.

"You haven't had dinner yet, have you?"

"No."

"Then let's get you something to eat first. Hmm... What do kids eat these days?"

"I'm not a kid. I'm already an adult."

"Okay... Let me correct myself then. What do not kids eat these days?"

"... I want a burger, fries, and cola."

"Wonderful. Got a taste of an adult, I see."

I didn't like his teasing tone, so I turned my head to him to shoot him glares. However, he didn't look at me. He was steadily maneuvering the car while scanning the area for possible shop. Yet, he seemed to feel my glares, reason why his grins were wider than before.

Tsk. What a strange, crazy stranger.