The mysterious man is sitting in the dark corner of my room, he is hunched down on his knees and the moonlight is lighting up his brown eyes and makes his Cheshire grin glow. This is the shadow of the man I know during the day. He is like Dr Jekkyl and Mr Hyde, his evilness just doesn't fade away. He is a demon spawn, "Tili Tili bom," he starts singing the Russian lullaby when he sees that my eyes are open.
"Zakroy glaza skoree, kto-to hodit oknom I stuchitsya v dveri." I screw my eyes shut and try to drown out the awful words his raspy voice is singing to me. I start a silent prayer in my head, wishing myself away from here. He lets out a deep chuckle. Suddenly I am in the car with my mother and father. My brother is pulling on my braid that hangs over my shoulder. I remember this, and I know that if dad is going to take the next left, my family is going to die.
"NO DADDY!" the adult me tries shouting out of the lips of the nine-year-old me.
"Daddy!" I shout but nothing, my daddy can't hear me. And for what seems like the millionth time, I experience their death. The car flies over the edge of the road. I look at my side, and just like always, Carlos is gone.
"CARRIE!" the nine year old shouts, she is sick to her stomach when she realises what is going on.
"DADDY!" She shouts when she sees her father lying unconscious on the steering wheel, his face is bloodied. She looks at her mother.
"NO!" I scream in the top of my lungs. I jump out of the bed, uncomfortable with the bad dream. I turn around in the room and face the corner, there is a hunched figure, and he jumps for me, I shrink, falling to the floor.
"Please!" I beg.
But it all disappears when my eyes adjust to the darkness, the hunched figure is nothing more than my jacket that is thrown over the chair that I use for reading.
I take a deep breath and slowly exhale, blowing the warm breath out of my nose. After a few more breaths I am calmed down.
I look at the bed deciding that I can't go back to sleep again not after what I had just experienced. I turn to the bathroom and pad over to the closed door.
I jump into the shower for a brisk wash. When I am done I pull my wet hair into a ponytail and get dressed in the clothes I left on the linen basket after my jog yesterday.
I push my legs into the spandex shorts but don't get far when the material sticks to the still wet skin, I almost fall over in the meantime. I walk out of the bathroom and almost trip over a loose floorboard.
I almost start scolding the low quality apartment, but then I quickly remember that this is my doing. My past never leaves me in peace. There is always something...
After my run in the downside of New York where I had to dodge psycho people who talk to themselves or the guys on street corners who looks like drug dealers I walk into the corner of J.K.K house, my temporary home.
When I walk into corridor to my apartment, I can hear the ruckus in room 009. The man is shouting at his wife or whatever she is to him, and her daughter is crying.
I roll my eyes and curse the man wishing for him to rot in hell. I walk to my room on the far end of the hallway. I slip the dirty key into it and enter the room, slamming the door shut behind me.
On my way to my bedroom I strip from the sweaty clothes and plop onto the bed. I fall into a dreamless sleep.
x x x
The reflection in the mirror is taunting me, her reddish-brown hair is in a long messy pony that stops in the middle of her back. She's wearing a blue and grey plaid shirt with black jeans and black boots. I don't like her, with that smug expression.
I look away from the mirror and find my way across my room to the locked door, picking the leather jacket up in the process, I take one look at the mess I've left behind and unlocked the door.
Throwing the door open, I place my foot over the threshold, walking out of the shitty apartment room. Various faces look up at me from their places on the floor in the hallway, I shut the door with a bang behind me causing them to flinch.
I shove the singular key into my pocket and walk away. In the distance my eyes land on the figure of the little girl from room 009, who is standing in the corridor, clutching her dirty brown stuffed animal by its arm, her chestnut hair is a mess and her eyes are sad.
The wet lines on her cheeks are heart-shattering.
'Don't worry child, the good will one day come.' I want to tell her as I near her hearing her mother's cries through the door and then the shout of the man she lives with.
I know what is happening in that room. He's hurting her pride and ego; he's abusing her mentally and physically.
'Dear child I hope that he never hurts you." I give the girl a second glance and slip out of the apartment and into the cold winter air of New York, the sun is setting and the shadows are mocking the remnants of the sunshine, darkening every little ray of daylight it touches.
I make my way across the darkened road and follow the sidewalk to the traffic lights. One would think that the city will settle down at night, but unfortunately, this city never sleeps.
I dig into the bag that is hanging from my shoulder and pull out a tangled wire, my earphones, my fingers are fretting with it, trying to untie the mess that I created when I was too lazy to roll it up this morning when I got home.
I slip it into my ears and immediately it creates some sort of invisibility cloak, a barrier, dividing me from the rest of the pedestrians who is pushing past me.
After about an hour's walk I make it to the street where I work in a nightclub.
The muscles in my shins are burning and my throat is dry, the shadows of the night has consumed the daylight by now, like a sponge it drank up all the golden beams of sunlight. The city lights creates an artificial light, trying to ease the fears of the ones who's afraid to face the dark.
"Hey girl!" The woman with dark skin and yellow wig calls from the street corner.
Every night she wears another piece of her absurd clothing line. This piece in particular left little to the imagination. She is the woman who never looked at me with judgement, the one person other than my co-workers to make conversation with me.
I offer her a small wave and hurry into the building. When I enter the building the stench of sweat and alcohol hits me along with the heavy turbulence of the loud music, I push through the bodies of the dancing neophytes, who's dancing awkwardly, swaying to the rhythmic music.
This here is the reason so many people says Thank God for alcohol. The liquid offering them enough courage to go ahead and make total fools out of themselves. I smirk and eventually I get out of the sea of people, turn around and take another look at the restlessness they're creating.
"Ana!" The man at the bar in dark clothes yells at me over the music, the bald patch on his head is shining and his black rimmed specs are pushed to the very tip of his nose, he looks mad. He's giving me a scolding look from across the room. I move my legs faster, making my way to him.
"You're late Stone!" he bellows. He's taller than I am so he is towering over me, making me feel like a child who was caught doing the unthinkable. My eyes shies away from him.
"I know, I'm sorry, I walked tonight." I tell him looking at my boots.
"I told you to take a cab." His voice is still loud but he sounds understanding.
"And I told you that I can't, I'm on a tight budget." I tell him looking up at him. His eyes soften but he puts his mask on again, as soon as he thinks he's showing any emotion. He grimaces.
"I know Ana but you're not going to have a budget if you keep coming in late for work." He warns me turning on his heel and stomps away from me. There's a lump in my throat, I'm immobilised, if I don't have a job anymore, I'll drown for sure.
"Shit." I mutter and force my legs to move and make my way to the back of the bar.
Many drinks and hours that felt like millenniums later the club starts simmering down, leaving only a few men sitting at the bar and two or three booths still taken by couples sucking face. There's a man across the room who's been here the entire night, he has no company with him. He stood against the wall the whole time only moving to get a drink or to go to the loo I presume. He's watching me, making me uncomfortable. I look away from him and busy myself with the glasses on the counter, rubbing them off and putting them away.
"Ana!" Jack the DJ yells at me as the soppy song comes to an end.
"Yeah?" I yell back.
"The normal song?" He yells cocking his head. I nod and the Lumineers start singing. I start humming the tune when someone comes to sit in front of me.
"What can I get you?" I ask him and look up to see the loner who befriended the wall this evening.
"Ana is it?" he asks me and my stomach drops.
"Why does it matter?" I ask him in a low voice.
"It probably doesn't but everyone has a name though," He laughs. His accent is from the place I ran from, Home. "I'm Christian by the way." He says plunging his hand out to me. I leave it lingering in the air.
"I'm Christian by the way." He says plunging his hand out to me. I leave it lingering in the air.
"Can I get you something to drink, Christian?" I ask putting every ounce of sarcasm into my reply.
"A round of vodka shots please, one for me and one for you." He says with a smile.
"Let's make that two for you and none for me, shall we?" I mutter and throw the drinks he ordered and push it to him.
"Oh c'mon love, what's one drink?" He pushes.
"I don't drink." I lie.
"And yet you work as a bartender." He scoffs. I ignore him and carry on with the work. Listening to the song; so show me family, all the blood that I will bleed. I don't know where I belong. Then the pompous bastard that the Christian character is just has to interrupt me again.
"Where do you come from?" He asks me, his expression is brooding.
"From earth," I dully reply to his curiousness.
"Oh, I wouldn't have guessed, and there I thought you're from mars." He says angrily. I bite down on the insides of my mouth to keep me from smiling. He narrows his eyes and takes a shot.
"Seriously though, we're are you from?" he asks me again, clearly not dropping the subject.
"Look mate, I am not here to discuss my life with you, I am here to bring drinks to already drunk bastards. Now if you'll excuse me I have customers to attend to." I snap at him and walk to the two men at the end of the bar.
"Can I get you something?" I ask them, receiving a nod and a "Hell yeah!" I grab their glasses and refill them. I look back to where the guy sat, his eyes are on me. The copper hair that hangs in his face gets pushed out of his face with his free hand that is not holding the second small shot glass.
I look away and slam the beer in front of them spilling a little bit. The dark man hands me two bills and then I walk away.
"I'm from Redditch though. I asked you where you're from because I recognized the accent." He says as I walk past him. I turn to face him.
"Then when you recognized the accent why didn't you drop it?" I snap.
"I reckoned that you're an actress or something." He admits.
"Well, I'm not. Guildford." I say and walk to the dustbin and throw the leftover lemon slices and browned mint leaves away. Jerry, the guy with the black-rimmed specs walks to Jack, and takes a microphone into his hands.
"Closing time everybody. See you tonight!" he says with enthusiasm and walks off the stage after handing Jack back the microphone. The music stops and the people who are still in here starts walking out of the club.
I untie the black apron from my waist and hang it on the hook on the counter. I pour myself a glass of water and down it quickly.
"Ana, beers please." Jack and Jerry orders slumping down on the barstools. The wait staff starts departing yelling goodbyes from the door. I hand the two males their drinks.
"I'm calling it a night, bye guys." I say grabbing my jacket from underneath the counter.
"Okay, goodnight Ana, see you tomorrow." They call after me as I make my way out.
I have to start looking at places away from here, maybe use the money I have been saving. Seeing that there is someone here, at the club I work at who comes from Redditch, so close from where I lived, is no coincidence. He must be close. I shudder when that thought consumes my mind.