Poison Apples

Prologue

"You know what really sucks about being alive? It's that moment that just when you think you got the hang of it, something gets in the way and is all in your face like no, you don't get it. Try again, sucker! The Japanese call it persevering, I call bullshit but essentially that's life for you,"

~ FJW.

Present

A click from the door froze my smile and made me tense. My mother was peeking in, her hair put up in a bun and she wore her white worn cardigan over her favourite gray blouse and floral print long skirt. All-in-all, she looked like a sweet old woman doesn't she?

The smile on my face felt brittle and fake. From the look on her face she knew it too. "Um.. Need help with dinner Mom?"

"No, it's fine sweetheart. We're eating out for... For Annalise...she got a promotion...it's really great!" she tried to sound enthusiastic for me, she really did. But it was the hard glint in her eyes that decided for me.

It was the same hard glint in her eyes when she shouted at me when I was still a teen. Why are you so difficult? Why can you be more like your sister? Annalise would never do that!

Even after all these years... I could never measure up to Annalise. I should be used to this already, shouldn't I? That I would never be as special in my parents eyes as Annalise...

I swallowed my hurt and smiled brittlely, avoiding my mother's eyes. "No, no... I'm moving this evening, remember? You guys have fun though, I'll call Annalise later... you know about the promotion thing... It's really great," I told her.

"You're not coming? I mean...you don't have to force yourself but your therapist said... you're getting better, right?" she asked, nervously. Ah, so this is what it was about--being a respectable family in public.

"Not that I don't want to, Mom but I need to get the keys today or else I get locked out of my apartment for another week. The landlord travels for work so... " What saddens me was she looked alarmed at having to put me up for another week not ecstatic like if Annalise was in my place.

Not wanting to hear anymore empty platitudes from the woman whom birthed me, I told her that I needed to go already, that the landlord was strict about time.

Luckily, I never did unpack my things so they were just waiting there for me to pick them up. Only my mother was home that day, so I continued to assure her that yes I can go by myself and no it's okay that she couldn't drive me there because she had book club that evening and Mrs. Morris had made her promise to bring her famous home-made cookies.

I smiled at her and nodded at her empty sorry and excuses because for one, how she could drive me where my apartment was when she didn't even know where it was? And I was well aware she would have dropped everything if it had been my sister in trouble.

Thirty minutes later, I was on the street, walking to the station so I can catch a train to my area feeling cold and numb inside.

...

The world passed by me in a blur of color and noises until I realize I'm in my landlord's building. Mr. Brock is a tall, big man, built like a tank and a face to match as intimidating as his height but he had a shy smile and I kind of wished I was tall enough to pet his head for it.

He gave me brand new keys and said he was sorry it took so long. Apparently, the old tenant didn't pay his rent and never returned the keys so, Mr. Brock had to change the locks and copied the new keys.

When he left, it was with a promise that I'll let him throw a welcoming party for me. That was nice of him...maybe it won't be so bad starting over in a new place.

My apartment door closed with a click behind me, I toed off my shoes at the front entrance which is weird but this apartment's selling point was the chic Japanese style interior and I'm kinda an otaku-ish kinda girl---I mean I love anime but not that much.

The floor boards are made from some kind of dark wood which is kinda cool to the touch, the walls were painted a neutral beige and light green color. The kitchenette a bit worn and there was coffee-stains on the counter top but it looked well-kept and there was a microwave, a faucet and a hot-plate. The microwave belonged to the previous tenant as Mr. Brock had told me but forgot it in his or her rush to leave. A standard table was pushed to the left to the wall with four chairs arranged around it. I smiled as it was perfect for my small groups of friends to hang around. Stepping further inside I found my bed lofted up with a small wooden staircase leading up to it with a metal handle on the side painted in shiny black. Underneath the staircase was a cozy little bookcase embedded to the wall, free for my books to make it their new home.

I looked around the small apartment studio and smiled. Home sweet home.

Unfortunately, had I been more aware, I would have realized that I was being watched...

Ella here, hope you liked the first chapter of Poison Apples. I usually put an author's note at each chapter in bold so feel free to skip that if you don't feel like reading it. I would appreciate hearing from you anything related to the story though keep in mind that this is just the first draft for Poison Apples and please remember to vote if you feel the chapter deserve it. >////<