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I jolt up from my bed once again as the same dream plagues my mind. The same ice blue eyes. The same blood red eyes. My certain death by 'it's'... 'his' hands. It always ends the same.
In my death.
I slouch my head against my knees as I take in deep gulps of air, it's almost like I'm thirsty for it. Wiping the sweat off my forehead with my shirt sleeve, I shake my head to rid myself of my sleep and memories of the dream.
Perhaps I ought to see a therapist. No, they'd believe I'm insane. Heck, I think I would come across as more insane than people admitted to a mental health facility. I would be a laughing stock, as I think about being taken away as Lucas and his group watch me being dragged through the doors of Pacific laboratories.
Getting out of bed I make my way towards the bathroom to get ready for my early shift today. I'm hoping to get there earlier so that I don't run into Lucas again, but no matter how hard I try I always seem to run into him. He's like an uncontrollable plague that cannot be ridden of.
Stripping I get into the shower the warm droplets of water cascading down my skin, helping to calm me down. Washing away the memories that came back to me from my earlier dream, but those blue and red eyes can't seem to leave my mind. Like they're ingrained into my mind.
I examine my appearance in the mirror as I put on my all-white uniform. My long, thick, warm brown hair, which falls just above my waist. Waves of gentle light passing through it. My dull brown eyes, which seem to be merely surviving rather than truly living, are staring back at me in the mirror. Eye bags from not getting enough sleep. Those nightmares will do that to you though, when you dream of a blue and red eyed man murdering you.
I quickly empty the bucket in the corner of the room, emptying the water down the sink as I place it back under the leak in my ceiling. Shivering at the cold morning air. My apartment walls are thin, and are probably getting even thinner as I speak.
I step out of my apartment and inhale deeply, the cold autumn air burning my nostrils. I've always had an unusually pale complexion that almost gives me a ghostly appearance. I've been self-conscious about my fair skin ever since I was a baby because I can never get a tan, no matter how hard I try. I just burn, and my skin turns ghostly pale again as soon as it heals. I'm not like those other beautiful girls with their toned stomachs and tanned skin. Of course I'm insecure, but I mean who isn't?
I have a little bit of fat in my stomach and thighs, making me look curvier than most people. As well as also being a lot smaller than most people. Life's unfair.
As I take in another deep breath all I get is the smell of cigarettes and the smell of pollution rise into my nostrils, making my nose and face wrinkle up in disgust. This is one of he reasons I need to get out of here. The others well you can probably guess what those are.
I don't live in the best of neighbourhoods, but I'm just happy that I have a place to call my own. I place where I feel safe. Well... as safe as you can feel in an apartment like mine. And by safe I mean after locking the four different locks that I have on my front door. Small houses line down the street, trash lying around people's front gardens in the road. Drunk men.... and women on the street either coming or going to get their daily dose of alcohol in the early hours of the morning. The daily drug dealings going on early, as they dodge the morning police rounds across the city.
Walking down the path on my usual route, I carry on my way towards Pacific laboratories. Hoping for a good day ahead of me, if I will ever get one of those.
****
I'm currently cleaning up a some unknown vile of light blue liquid that has been spilled on the floor in one of the labs. This happens to me every day. A weird, colourless liquid that was on the ground, occasionally even on the ceiling and on counters. Although I'm not really sure how they get it on the ceiling. I grabbed some rubber gloves off the side and then a mop and some cloth, fearing that it would be some kind of acid. I dont need any acid burns to add to my collection of scars. You can never be too careful really. I haven't seen Lucas yet this morning, so I'd prefer not to ruin this lucky day. It's starting to seem like he might not have shown up for work. Which works out even better for me.
I force a smile onto my face before grabbing the remaining cleaning supplies and the trash that needs to be emptied. I remove my gloves and toss them in the trash as I walk out into the corridor. This floor is unusually quiet today. It appears almost... unsettling. Not a whisper, not a step, not a soul in the area.
As I roll the filthy water and trash down the hallway, I watch the floor closely to make sure the water doesn't spill or topple over. I must have been really focused because as I take a few steps back to meet..., I suddenly find myself colliding with a hard chest. This was something I knew this was bound to happen sometime today. Lucas and his gang were all standing together, grinning ominously at me.
I take a few more steps back, trying to maintain as much space as possible between us, my heart rate immediately increases. This is not good. I am alone in a hallway with Lucas and his group, and no one is there to assist me or even hear my cries for assistance. This is exactly what I needed today. Note the sarcasm.
"And where do you think you're going?" Lucas asks looking at me from head to toe. His lip turning into a grimace when he notices the stains on my white uniform.
"Oh look she's taking the trash. Right down where she belongs." Said Connor as the whole group laughs at this. I subconsciously roll my eyes, even for me that insult was something a toddler would come up with. Now you know why I call them the boy toy group.
"Maybe we should take her down, make sure she gets there....safely" Theo said looking towards Connor and Lucas, earning a sinister smile from both of them.
My pulse quickens. I know exactly what that means. The last time they did it, I was left down there in the dark for four hours with no one to help me. I had to take a whole week of work in order to get over the panic attacks I was having everyday. The whole ordeal bringing back the memories of my torturous past. I can't let them do that to me again.
They told me that since my hands appeared to be full, they were going to help me in getting the trash down. That right there is the biggest lie of the century, and I was too naive to see that. They dragged me into the basement, where the cleaning supplies and garbage are kept, and they left me there for several hours. I'm not sure how long it was—hours or days—but it was long enough for the sun to set by the time one of the building's janitors let me out.
I can't go through that again. Where's Lucas when I need him.
Deciding to do something stupid I kick over the bucket of water, wetting the trousers of both Lucas, Connor and Theo. Shit! I quickly snatch Lucas' ID card before I take off, too scared too even see their reactions. I hear shouting and fast approaching footsteps as I quicken my pace.
My legs and lungs burn the further I run. God I really need to start working out more. You'd think climbing up so many stairs would help.
I need to find somewhere to hide, there is no way I'm going to manage to outrun three very physically fit high security guards. Lucas' key card will enable me to make it pretty much anywhere in the building, unlike mine which only permits me into certain rooms I need to clean when assigned on a certain day.
I run down hallway after hallway, doors passing me by in a blur. People watching me curiously, and some giving me dirty looks as I carry on running. I probably look like a mess right now and most likely a mad woman, but I'm too scared to even care right now.
Where could I run where they wouldn't find me?
Where could I hide where even Lucas would struggle to find me?
I glance at the black door to my right and stop abruptly. The kind of black that absorbs all surrounding light and nearly draws me in. People are warned not to enter this place. That something inhumane is in there. But is there really something in there than could be worse than dealing with whatever Lucas has planned for me?
I hear strong and fast approaching footsteps from behind me. Before I could even think of doing something stupid I swiped the key card against the door, as it slid open with a whoosh sound. The beeping of the machine next to the door telling me the ID card worked, the space lighting up with small white lights.
I looked behind me making sure that no one was there, I didn't need any snitches telling Lucas and his boy toy group telling them where I am. This is either a stupid idea or a stupid idea. There is no in-between.
Tumbling through the door I'm enveloped in sudden darkness as soon as the door closes. Oh no! This is actually worse, I've always hated the dark. I start hyperventilating trying to get as much air in my lungs as possible, as I try to make out anything in the darkness. But I can't, it's as if this room was made to keep out as much light as possible, and this is not helping my predicament.
Taking further steps back I try to calm by erratically beating heart out of my chest, with no luck. It feels like it's getting worse. Memories of my past come back to me, as I remember my dad beating me and then leaving me in the basement all alone in the pitch black.
No light in and no light out. Me. Lying in a pool of my own blood, the coldness of the floor seeping into my bones, as I'm left there for what felt like days even weeks. He left me there alone, with no food and water. No help. He didn't shed a tear after what he did to me, just a slap across the face as he warned me to not to do whatever I did again.
Tears track down my face as small sobs escape from my lips.
But not before I feel two strong warm arms encompass me bringing me into a large hard chest.
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Woop woop another chapter done!
Oh I forgot Hiya beautifuls!
I really hope your enjoying this so far, and are still reading even though it's been two chapters.
But I love you all!
:)
xxx