The King's Lost Sword [COMPLETED]

Chapter 5

C H A P T E R5 |
L

"Damnit!" Allison yelled as she slammed a stack of papers onto the kitchen island. She pulled at the blonde hair on her scalp.

"What is it?" Adira called from where she lay on their couch, a cracked book on her lap.

"We're short, again!"

Adira rolled off the couch and made her way into the decently sized kitchen. "That's not possible, let me see." Allison handed her the stack of papers and spun in a circle on her island chair.

"Oh, it is possible, Dee. LOOK AT IT! How are we short? We worked more overtime this month than last-" Allison froze her spinning and gave Adira a pointed look.

"Are you clean?"

"Yes," Adira asked instantly, her eyes trained on the black text printed onto the papers.

Allison raised a brow. "I'm clean! Swear it, and this is fine, we'll make the difference."

"When?" Allison scoffed, "When will we make the difference, Dee? The landlord let us pay the 200 we missed last month plus this month's rent and we are short!"

"I don't know how, Allison, but we'll make it."

"By Friday?"

Adira cringed, she had no doubt that they'd be able to pay the landlord everything they owe, but by Friday? That was impossible. "Sure," She lied, plopping herself onto the right side of the couch and diving back into her book.

A few minutes passed - or maybe it was an hour, Adira didn't really know, for she had been too interested in what was happening to Mrs. Ketterfield to care - when Allison spoke again.

"What about the Factory?"

Adira froze and her mouth felt like putty. It had been two years since she'd lost her sister, a year and a few months since she'd met Allison, and in that time she hadn't even thought about her old life. At first, she'd drowned herself in cocaine and alcohol - though, alcohol didn't affect Adira the way powder did but instead left an awful taste in her mouth; then she'd met Allison at the lowest point of her life, (maybe it was the second-lowest, and if it was, then Adira never even tried to think of the lowest of all her low points), and it had been Ally who brought her out of the darkness; who had shown her a life worth living.

But when Allison mentioned The Factory, the memories resurfaced. Not just of the cold, lifeless bodies Adira took, but the memories of her family, of her parents - how were they doing? Of Nicolas, her chubby, full of life, younger brother; of Natasha, the blonde who looked out of place in family photos, and of Nathan... her favorite.

When Adira scrapped a knee as a young child, it hadn't been Duke or Alyon who patched her up, no, it had been Nathan, the mess of the family. Adira remembered that, even at the young age of 7, he wanted to help the world, he wanted to be a guard. Someone who helped those in need.

"No, why would you even suggest something like that?" She laughed it off with a horribly fake laugh. "You know it'll break me."

Allison sat on the couch next to Adira, their knees touching. "We need the money, Dee."

Adira put her book onto the coffee table and shook her head, "I don't want t-" She cut herself off when she felt Allison's hand grip her inner thigh.

"What are you do-"

"Shh..." Allison leaned into Adira's ear and bit it, smiling against the flushed skin. She pushed her hand onto Adira's crotch and whispered, "Please, Dee."

Adira tried to resist but the only thing she could focus on was Allison's hand and the twirling motion it was making. "F-fine."

"Thank you," Allison leaned in and kissed the edge of Adira's lips before getting off of the couch and entering one of the bedrooms. Adira bit her lip in frustration.

"Seriously!?" Adira yelled, still on the couch.

"Yeah!" Allison laughed as she exited the room. "A.S.A.P. Dee. We only got two days to make rent!"

Sighing, Adira pushed herself off of the couch and walked into her room. The walls were white and reminded Adira of what she thought Heaven would look like, the shag carpet had turned brown with age, and all of her furniture had been used before she acquired it.

She went to her yellow-with-age dresser and grabbed a pair of skin-tight jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt. She hadn't worn a short-sleeved shirt in nearly two years, ever since she'd first got clean. Or as clean as one could get considering the fact that she'd gotten high a few nights ago.

Adira had relapsed, not due to any resurfaced memories, but because she'd been stressed at work and remembered how free it felt to be high. As soon as the high had worn off and she had to do the walk of shame from the drug den, she'd felt horrible about it and she knew that telling Allison about the... situation was off the table, the disappointment on her face would've been enough to walk straight back into the den.

Adira crouched and grabbed a pink cardboard box out from under the double bed she rarely slept in. Inside were the two last Super Shots she'd earned, they were years old but Adira knew that they didn't go bad, or at least, she hoped they couldn't go bad.

Without another thought, Adira grabbed one of the two vials, popped off the plastic lid, and then she shoved the thick horse needle into the antecubital fossa and pushed the bright blue liquid into her vein.

A groan left Adira's mouth as she removed the empty needle from her arm. She made to stand up and leave for the abandoned factory but crumbled to her knees, her head aching in pain. Her eyes felt as if they were about to pop from their sockets, and her ears were ringing.

"What the fuck," She mumbled, her tongue stung as if she'd just licked the sun. She gave up trying to move and opted for leaning her head against the wall, groaning in pain. It felt like hours before the pain subsided to a dull ache, her eyes didn't burn and she could move her tongue without the fear of it falling out, and she was able to move. She slipped on the old boots she'd worn to play jury, judge, and executioner and left the apartment soon after, not wanting to waste any more time.

The pain seemed to both fade and hurt more as she traveled. The fresh air seemed to help but any type of movement caused Adira's brain to hit her skull. She hadn't left the inner city since Natasha's death and it seemed to take all of her willpower to not break down crying when the river ran into her eyesight.

Adira stopped walking a street from The Factory, legs burning from the lack of exercise, she calmed her breathing, said a quick prayer, and then continued on her way to The Factory.

___

Antecubital fossa is a fancier word for "elbow pit" another thing I know because of Google, so thanks to the web browser!

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