"Margo, the spare blankets are in the attic." Mike shouts from his office, "3rd one on the left."
I nod in reply, as I go and venture for the blankets for my bed tonight.
I make my way up the stairs, glancing at all different rooms. They all had signs on their doors, indicating whose is whose. It was cute, in a soppy sad kind of way. The last one in the corridor was the only one that didn't have one of these. I turn the handle of the door slowly, revealing itself to be my future room.
At the moment it was an empty, hallow room with scraped wallpaper at the verge of ripping off. Under this layer was a dull sunny yellow wall fading with age, with cracks and small holes. The floor wasn't very sturdy either, and if I had stepped in I would have probably fell into the kitchen.
Yeah, I am not going to lie it looked like a pretty crap room. But it was still a room, which will soon belong to me, and that's all I needed.
"You're not meant to be in there," Jody exclaims from behind me, making me jump a little, "the damages haven't even started to be sorted out."
"I think that's pretty clear," I answer, scanning it one more time before closing it behind me.
"Where did you go?" the brown haired girl continued, "Tyler told me what happened,"
"Oh, just checking out the place," I respond bluntly. Really I was in the garden, on the same spot on the bench. I was surprised the two angels didn't come and check up on me, but then again it was raining at the time. It didn't want me to go back inside though, in a way it persuaded me to stay if anything. Even the weather can change, and you can't stop that. I discovered my black hair looked even better when it was wet; making it seem even darker, hopefully giving off the same about my personality.
"And the shower?" Jody adds pointing out my hair. Luckily, I had already changed for bed, so it seemed believable, "so it was you who spent so much time in there!
I chuckle a little bit, as she did. The only difference was that only her's was sincere.
"Do you want to come in my room for a bit?" Jody askes, gesturing her hand to it. Her door was slightly ajar so I could see the beige coloured walls and brown carpet. Well, when I said I could see the cream walls they were all covered with posters of rock bands. I was never into any kind of music, but the dark coloured clothes the singers were wearing did attract me.
"I would love to, but Mike said that I had to set up the sofa for tonight." I reply solemnly. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't intrigued by the posters, however it would be a waste of time.
"No worries," she shrugs, "I will come down and help in a minute or two."
Great. I know she was trying to be my angel, and I had to go along with it, but it is like they don't have anything better to do except look after me.
I climb the stairs two by two leading to the attic, staring at the wooden door. I turn the handle, revealing the dark musky room. It had a few small windows, but since it was reaching ten o'clock there was no sign of light. I stretch to reach the light switch above me, which wasn't one of the clicking ones, but a hanging one, proving how old this place really is. It ends up being too high for my skinny arms to attain, so I decide to search for the blankets in the shadows of the vast room.
I pick up the first box, ready to scrummage through it, when I notice a dark silhouette at the end of the room, crouching down. I stare at it for a few seconds, wondering what, or maybe who, it could be. I make my way towards it, keeping my eyes on the figure. I could work out it wasn't an object, but a person, squatting listening to music. I shuffle closer to her/him, wondering if they even belong to the care home or not.
Suddenly, they look up. I stand their staring back at them, speculating what I should do next. Even though there was barely enough light, I couldn't recall if they were one of the faces I met a few hours ago. Or not.
The staring goes on for a few minutes, not sure what neither of us should do. Then the person takes her headphones off and clears her throat.
"You're Margo, aren't you?" she uttered. Probably from here then.
"Yeah." I respond awkwardly, "and you are..."
"Kazima. What are you doing here? Aren't you meant to be in the living room?"
"Yes, but Mike told me to get the spare blankets from here." I answer, noticing that the pile of blankets were resting behind me, "so..." I gesture my hand towards her back.
She picks them up. When she does this, I notice the piles of books that were covered by them. And they weren't the silly teen romance kind, but they had titles like 'thirteen reasons why' or 'If I stay'. More the real emotional kind, when people break down and at their weakest.
"Do you like reading?" she inquires, noting that I was looking at the books.
Before I got into hacking, I used to spend most of my spare time in libraries when my dad was busy, well, doing whatever he was doing. It was quite boring at first, but it was the only place I could go after school, except the shopping centre and school itself. However, even then I wasn't exactly a girly girl, so I settled with the library. But then I found the young adult section, which I realised wasn't that bad. So every day I would sit there reading book after book, gradually spending more and more time there. Up until a few years ago.
"Yeah, I used to, when I had enough time," I respond grabbing the blankets from her hand.
"Had enough time?" she questions, raising his eyebrows, "where has all of that time gone?"
"You know, homework, studying and stuff," which for the record, I haven't done for the past month or two.
"But it's the summer. There is no school, remember?" she inquisitively quizzes.
"Yeah, but my grades have been dropping lately, and it's better to prepare early for GCSE's than later!"
"Ok..." she says, "but you could read now, if you want?"
I could have. It would be nice to take a break from reality, and just read into this dark space and dive into a story. But, I couldn't do that, and soon enough it will become a fatal flaw. I look back at the piles of book waiting to be read. One couldn't hurt?
"Which do you recommend?" I ask.
I sit on the sofa, Jody on one side of me and Kazima on the other. I was still reading the book an hour later, and it wasn't exactly the best one I have read, but it was still something.
"Right everyone to bed," May lee announces whilst turning off the TV. Frowning, I look up at the time. Twelve O'clock. Guess I was reading for longer than I had expected.
"Margo, set up the sofa please," she adds throwing the blankets in my direction. Unfortunately, they missed and ended up on Jody's head.
"Wow thanks," Jody muffles under the layers of covers. Laughter fills the room as I grab the quilts from her. Rolling my eyes I place them onto the sofa, adding a pillow on the edge. While I do this, everyone amble towards the stairs to get to bed.
"Ok...so I will keep the front and back door locked, apart from that I am trusting you to not to mess with anything else," May lee instructs me, giving a stern look, "and the TV is out of bounds," she finishes, taking a bunch of wires out, ensuring her that I wouldn't watch anything, before leaving the room
I obviously had the capability to be able to put the wires in the correct plugs, but most of the time I find TV a bit...well, tedious. The same old celebrities with their same old reality shows, same old broken romances, same old friendship, same old wealth. Then the teenage dramas with their perfect lives and everything going their way, or the teenage dramas when literally the impossible happen. And sci-fi programmes which are possibly the worst. I could go on. But they all have one thing in common; they are full of bullshit. It's not reality.
This is reality. Stuck up care homes with stuck up care kids. It's just the best, isn't it?
I lay back on the sofa looking up at the white ceiling, appearing grey in the shimmering moonlight. Sometimes, I do wish I would enjoy the things everyone else does. Longing to be the person everyone expects me to be; a normal teenager. If only I can escape the nightmare of my father.
I wake up, lying on the sofa in a hot mess. My ears pricked up, listening to my surroundings. I heard something but I wasn't sure of it. Laying still in the darkness, I wait for a few minutes wondering what it could be, but soon my eyes start to drift again, finding myself nearly going back to sleep.
Creak. My eyes burst wide open, there it was again. I silently lift myself up, looking around the vast living room. It was coming from the kitchen. I haven't even been here for twenty hours and there is already an intruder. I walk over to the pool table near the door leading to the kitchen, grabbing for one of the sticks. Never was a fan of pool anyway.
I make my way to the door, cautious to not make a noise. I have practised this many times before. Breathing softly, turning the door knob ever so slowly, clenching the weapon closer to my chest, taking a deep breathe, swinging the door open and...
There stood a scruffy brown haired boy holding a glass of water. Wasn't who I was expecting. Ryan turned to face me, his brow furrowed.
I could say that I was full of relief that it wasn't a thief or an intruder. I could say I was glad to see this boy standing in front of me. I could say that my heartbeat had gone back to its normal pace. But if I did say this, it wouldn't be the truth.
And as I said before, I was not looking forward to this.
"What are you doing," Ryan says clearing his throat.
"Wondering what you are doing," I reply, still clutching the pool stick by my side. He responds holds up his drink of water. I clear my head, not wanting to tell him I thought he was an intruder.
"I am Margo, by the way," I mumble, "the new girl. I am meant to sleep down here for a couple of nights."
"Yeah I know," he says in a serine tone.
Does he know? I look at him inquisitively while he takes another sip of water of the glass. I haven't spoken to him since, and he hasn't given me any signs that he knew. Maybe I was lucky?
"Rachel Bloom," he grunted looking at the bottom of his glass, breaking the silence. Damit, he was cleverer than I thought, "it's a nice name, isn't it?"
"Excuse me," I questioned. Maybe I just miss heard?
"I met a girl called Rachel Bloom yesterday. A messed up blue haired girl. She took some money off me, money that I have saved up for some time," he explained, placing his finger on the rim of the glass, circling it, "if I ever met Rachel Bloom again, she wouldn't know what hit her."
"Well I am sorry to hear that," I stated. He turns to face me, but I give him no clues, staring back at him with my blank face.
"If Rachel Bloom knew anything, she would give me back my money," he continues edging slowly towards me, his tone slowly filling with rage, "she would give it back by tomorrow."
He was right in front of me now, only a centimetre gap between us. I slowly look back at his brown eyes, noticing the golden rays shining in one of them. I clutch the stick harder, looking away.
"You will tell her that, right?" Ryan spits. I was not going to let him defeat me like that.
"Yeah I am sure of it," I spit back in his face.
But the thing Ryan didn't know, he was messing with the wrong girl.
A/N
So...Margo and Ryan had finally had a conversation....which didn't go well.
I am so sorry that I haven't updated for a while, but I when I came back from my holiday I was quite busy with some dance stuff, and I also had to do some last minute homework.
I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and please vote if you did. And don't forget to comment! I appreciate any suggetions.
I also want to thank always_queening and LostLights33 for their great support! It means a lot xx
Love
K