Antithesis

Chapter Two

[Song For The Chapter: Clean by Taylor Swift]
The picture ontop is Jordan :)

Jordan

The door is closed behind me. A figure lays on the floor, blood spilling out of the head and I step farther away from the blood mess to my closet.

My breathing is haggered from fear as I hurriedly pack my two duffel bags with whatever I see as valuable.

The time on my nightstand reads 6:45.

As I pack, my eyes dart towards every angle of the room checking to make sure no one is watching me or comes in unannounced.

I have been waiting for the right opportunity to do this but life has put me in a dilemma, stay and pay or run. I choose run it's now or never. They won't stop me this time. They can't.

Once I'm sure that I've gotten everything I need I sneak out the family house through the window. I land on the small balcony outside and make my way down the stairway.

The fact that the large house is called a family house is ironical. There's nothing like family there, just fake smiles and bonds of people who have given up. Those who accept that that's their fate. That life is for them, unlike me.

I start walking on the street slowly. Not much people are out by this time but still conceal my identity with a hoody just in case anyone spots me and informs him. He has so many spies, people that owe him and will do anything to pay their debts.

Once I reach an abandoned road I take off. I run as far as my legs can take me not looking back. My heart pounds frantically on my ribcage but I still run, run away from the madness.

I finally reach a phone booth by the outskirts of town. Hurriedly, I step in and drop my two duffel bags to the ground. I just stand there, running my fingers through my hair as a frustrated sigh leaving my lips.

Once the fatigue hits me, I slide down to sit on the ground, my knees raised up to my chest and my head in my hands. I don't know where to go, all the people I can think of, all my friends were at the family house. I have no one outside the enclosenent of family house or the town that I desperately want to run away from.

After raking up my brain, I still come up with no one and I let out a frustrated groan that shake the walls of the phone booth. Thank God the area is dark and deserted so no one will wonder where the noise is coming from. I need to vent out my anger.

This is it. Sooner or later someone will notice my absence and departure and they will come to search for me to pay, pay with my life.

Just as the feeling of defeat rushes down on me, a name suddenly pops into my head. Blake.

I quickly search my bag for one of my oldest shorts, knowing that I took it with me and hopefully that the paper is still there.

Once I find the short, I search all the pockets and my fingers finally come in contact with a squeezed paper. There it is.

I onfold the paper. It's so scrunched up but thankfully I can still make out the numbers.

I dial, my nerves on edge. What if he changed his number, or doesn't answer unfamiliar numbers, or isn't near the--

"Hello whose this?", a tired voice asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Hey Blake, what's up?", I respond in a relieve voice. There's still hope.

He immediately recognised my voice and asked me what's the problem. I just told him that I needed to get out of this town, immediately. I told Blake my location and he cuts the call not waiting for me to say another word.