angel. | ruby martinez

chapter one

the second the automatic doors slid open, a huge gust of air flew past.

freeridge was in the end of summer, so it was a comfortable weather.

granted, in the night, the city looked a lot more terrifying, especially when you were by yourself.

my house was on the other side of town, but i didn't feel like going, knowing that was nothing to do.

i walked a good half a mile worth, before i stopped in front of a park, sitting down in one of the benches.

for seven o'clock in the afternoon, it was pretty dark for a summer night.

the air seemed more foggy, and there were more clouds. no signs of a sunset either.

my back leaned against the table, and i sat down at the bench, facing the opposite direction.

my eyes closed slowly, and i sighed, resting my hands in my lap.

the idea of high school admittedly scared me.

it's a whole new campus, new people, and a thousand more opportunities for anxiety to erupt.

do you ever get those moments where everything just gets too much, and you just need to lie down for a bit?

it's like all the stress makes you feel like you'll collapse.

it's an awful feeling. it feels like you're in a closed room with rising water, and it's getting more difficult to breathe.

all the energy and stress it piling up, until it eventually kills you.

that's why, you have to find an escape.

maybe, in that closed off room, there's a hidden door.

once opened, the water lowers, and you're back to where you started.

it's like never ending cycle. eventually, wherever the door leads to, it'll be filled up with water as well. and then what?

"chamaca, you doing alright?"

my eyes immediately snapped open, and i sat up, gaze searching for the voice.

i glared at them, sighing, turning the other way.

"it's just me. calmase."

"i fucking hate you, oscar."

he simply laughed, taking a seat beside me.

"what were you thinking about?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"life." i sighed. "the shithole of it all."

he nodded, "sadly."

something seemed off.

that was when i realized, oscar wasn't behind fucking bars.

i sat up straighter, looking at him weirdly.

"when did you get out?" i asked him, and watched as his lips pursed in a unreadable look.

"last week."

my eyes widened, and i coughed, "congrats?"

he chuckled, yet stared at the ground with a blank face. "don't."

i nodded, looking down at my lap.

i only knew oscar diaz because of my brother.

he was a part of oscar's gang.

the santos, as they called themselves.

"so how's spooky enjoying his first week of freedom?" i asked him, and he shook his head.

"it's been... interesting." he admitted, leaning against the table. "i got people looking at me like i killed someone."

my eyes looked at him suspiciously, "did you?"

"fuck you." he mumbled, rubbing his head.

oscar never really cracked his shell very often, so it was nice to have him in a more vulnerable and comfortable state.

it felt nice to be able to joke around with him without being threatened with a pistol against my neck.

"you should pass by sometime. cesar needs some friends." he spoke, his gaze set on the sky.

i looked at him strangely, "i thought he was good? i saw him hanging out with some kids earlier last month."

oscar shrugged, "me too. but he hasn't seen them in a while, and i'm pretty sure they're not good anymore."

i nodded in understandment.

"cool. i'll pass by later this week?" i offered, and he nodded.

"yeah. that works."