A Dishevled Angel
A Small gesture of Hope
Headed up on both sides, the only way to escape was up, panting slightly, I clambered up the corrugated iron walls of the warehouse closest to me- riddled with holes by years of rust that made for easy climbing with the extra help of a few piled up abandoned boxes. I got on the roof. I felt it quiver under my weight, I had no times for worries such as it falling down - they'd found me. I kept close to the roof, low as possible, out of sight. I waited till they left, given up- after banging around things and kicking open a few boxes the menacing group stalked away. I'm still here though, to keep safe, I'm staying up here until morning. How did I get here? I interrogate myself, Why did I get involved with Jasper? I knew that he gets up to no good, but to sleep with the wife of the leader of the local Mafia, and pin it on me! I feel ashamed, getting myself mixed up with all this, I used to want to be 'cool' this isn't cool, this is horrible. 'Urrg!' I hit the warehouse, frustrated, it makes a loud tinny sound that resonates for a while- I scare off some birds in the distance. I listen hard, for any sound of the men, it's getting light, they could easily see me and I'm tired, more worn out than I've ever been before- I wouldn't have the strength to fight or run any more.
I straighten, stock still, I hear a rustling from below, from- inside the warehouse. I shut my eyes tight, to prepare for the beating to death I'm about to endure. I hear a slow opening of the sliding doors of the warehouse, soft footsteps. I can't hear very well as my heart pounds though my ears It seems like years until I hear someone turn, to see me.
"Are you okay?" A soft female voice asks, gently, concerned.
I open my eyes, shocked "Huh," the light hits my eyes I shield them "It was dark a minute ago."
"Ah, it speaks." I hear a little giggle "The sea is to the east, on these docklands we get first light, beautiful, isn't it?"
I take my arm away from my eyes, getting used to the light. I look down to my finder, her hair was so blonde, and bleached by sunlight, it was almost white, except from the oil and dirt in it, turning it a dull shade of grey, her hair was long and messy, It hung over her face and eyes. Her clothes weren't in any better shape, she wore tights, riddled with holes, shoes witch at best could be described as unwearable, a skirt so torn and dirty that you could hardly even see the pattern on it. She had on a supposed-to-be-white blouse and an approximation of what seemed to be the blazer of my school's uniform. She, looked my age.
“You coming down from there any time soon?” she asked “I dunno if that roof'll hold out for much longer,” she giggled
I scrabbled down, weak, hungry exhausted and with bruises and wounds all over my body, It wasn't easy. "I better be going-"
"What about those guys from last night, are you not scared of them finding you?" she cocked her head a little to the side, inquisitively.
"What! how did you know?" I forcefully grilled her
"You woke me up!" she protested, arms crossed as if it was the most obvious reason imaginable. “You know, they probably know where you live by now, It wouldn't be safe for you or your family if you go back there.”
I felt inclined to deny what she was saying, and try to convince myself that if I go back, everything will be fine and safe. That it would be like nothing had happened but I was too tired. I fell into a crumpled heap on the floor and clutched my forehead, closed my heavy eyelids for a second. I uttered painfully “What am I going to do now?”
There was no reply from the girl for a while, I head a gust of wind rattle some dishevelled warehouse in the distance. I heard some scuffling, it seemed that she'd made up her mind. “Hey, why don't you come in for a cuppa?” This surprised me, I looked up too see the same gentle smile that was always so apparent in what she said. She offered her hand tentatively, slowly. She cocked her head to the side as she waited for my response. I smiled at my saviour, best I could “Yes, thank you, that would be nice.”
She beckons me though the sliding doors of the warehouse, she pulls a polished copper kettle from a small camping stove. What surrounded were a rather large sofa with mismatching cushions, all ripped, stained or with stuffing falling out, most all of the aforementioned. To the side of the sofa there was a 4-plug adapter leading off from somewhere and plugged into that was a fridge-freezer on the wall. In the corner there were some neatly folded sheets blankets and other scruffy bedding, I presumed this is what she slept on. There was a small stool by the stove and a low table that looked like a large dining table with the legs cut short, stool and stove one side, sofa and bedding the other. I this was separated by some raggedy sheets and sewn-together pieces of cloth acting like a wall. She filled the kettle with water from a tap with some old piping. I wondered how there happened to be a working tap in an abandoned place such as this. She put the kettle back on the camping stove, and switched it on. She looked up at me, flashed her gentle smile, which was all you could see of her face. I suddenly realised I'd just been awkwardly standing here, watching her. I came closer as she gestured toward the sofa. I smiled bashfully as I took a seat. She hovered on a small stool by the stove. It was darker in here and the warm light from below made her and her gentle smile look almost ethereal. The kettle looked ready to boil so she went off in search of cups and tea bags. “Milk, sugar?” I realised I hadn't hardly made a sound since I'd been invited in. Not engaging in the old British passion of small talk. It somehow didn't feel right to complain about the weather with this person. “Erm, milk two sugars please.” She scuttled off to get milk, after she tossed a tea bag in each an put two teaspoons of sugar in one cup, one in the other. That must be hers I thought. She brought the milk and mugs over just in time, the water had boiled she turned off the stove and slowly poured in the still boiling water. She turned over a little egg timer. And stirred the tea. She poured milk into each, almost spilling it. She popped the cap back on and put it back in the fridge. She come over, all the sand had passed. She took out the tea bags and put them in one of three tubs. I thought it kind off out of place to be recycling. She slid my cup towards me, I leant forward and took it. She sat down on the stool opposite me and took up her own cup, hugged it close and took a sip. She smiled and looked up at me, only to catch my gaze. I took a quick sip to cover. She was still smiling although I could tell her expression had changed slightly. The tea was lovely, I never knew tea could be this good. I realised that I hadn't drank a thing for about a day and took a big gulp. I relaxed “So, you live here, erm-”
“Cybilltegan,” I blinked at her, looking very confused. she laughed “Call me Sal”
“Stephen Callin, just call me Steve” I smiled back at her.
“Yeah, I live here. Once you get used to the rattling it's quite nice,”
“Alone?” I asked, worried about how this girl, same age me stays safe in such a harsh-looking place.
“Yes,” she stared into her cup. I furrowed my brow, I detected sorrow in her voice. She laughed lightly, brought her head up. She had her smile back “You're my first visitor Steve.”
I smiled widely “I'm honoured, ” In a friendly mocking tone. my smile got wider as she beamed back. I couldn't decide if that was true or not, but I was glad that I was there to protect her, for now at least. I sank back into the sofa, as conversation dropped away, I finished my tea, my eyelids were feeling heavy. I fell asleep.
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