I traced, with my fingers, the figures of the clouds running through the sky. The endless azure and shapeless clouds had become part of my monotonous, noon activity. I swiveled around, away from the window and back to my dilapidated work space. It was a desk almost torn down, the paint was fading and the wood was scraping away.
I sifted through the papers and organized them into files, this occupied my mind and plugged it away from any negative thoughts. I look across the room to see Tyler, who was knelt down upon the vending machine, trying to get a soda for both of us.
Early in the morning, we found this haven for both of us. "Baxter's Home for Troubled Teens." We were in search of a place to stay off the streets and fate brought us to this building with a slightly mossy façade. We crossed the threshold and were immediately received by a kind young woman whose soft, brown hair was framing a delicate, joyful face. Her eyes were almond-shaped and honey colour. She introduced herself as Dayla, owner and director for this home.
She was busy for she had to go on an errand, she left me in charge of the reception desk, a post which I took with great pleasure. I needed to take my thoughts off that night. Not much activity had been going on, just the passing by of teenagers, some with peculiar aspects. But, who was I to judge? After all, we shared something in common, we were all runaways.
Just then, a slender and pale figure crossed the threshold, leaving the solitary life of street wanderer behind and entering the sanctuary. She had black hair that covered her face. Her remarkably green eyes swept around the room, mingled with curiosity and coldness.
I stood and stride toward her, a friendly smile on my face.
"Hello, welcome to Baxter's Home for Troubled Teens," I said in a sing song voice, she was startled by it. I added in a much softer tone, "My name is Aleza and we are so very happy to have you here, I am sure you will fit in just fine."
"Who said I wanted to fit in?" she snarled at me defensively. "Who said I wanted to stay in this nut house?"
I was taken aback, clearly uncertain of how to react. My mind traveled those buried memories, when my father used to bully me with insults and making me feel inferior. I opened my mouth but no sounds came.
"I..." my voice faltered as my eyes begin to quake under the stress and streams of undesired memories.
Something like guilty flashed through her eyes, she quickly bend down her head and stared at the floor. It was indeed an awkward silence.
"Would you like something to drink?" a bottle of soda appeared between us. Tyler offered it to the new girl. "You seem to need it..."
She took it from Tyler's hand and mumbled a "thank you." She then slumped in the couch, "My name is Angel..." she said quietly.
"Nice to meet you," Tyler said, then turned to me. His eyes seem to inquire me "are you okay?" I gave him a slight nod.
Suddenly, another body crossed the door, this bigger figure stumbled to the floor in a fit of laughter. Tyler stoop to help the young man. This man had an untidy mess of brown hair, his eyes were honey-coloured, reminding me of Dayla.
"Sir, are you okay?" Tyler asked. I bend down on the man's other side, Angel was watching us silently from her place. His pupils were dilated and were rolling in the ceiling of his eyes, he seemed to enjoy it. Tyler searched his arm and soon found a syringe stuck in it. "He injected himself with heroin."
My heart pounded on my chest, "what now?" I felt a sharp, pain seared through my arm and felt liquid travel through my veins. I look down on my arm and saw a syringe stuck to my arm, the needle was deep inside my flesh. I reached for the needle and yanked it off, blood squished out.
My heart beat faster in my chest as I was feeling excitement, with a finger I played with the blood, remembering my family being murdered by my own father. It was okay, I killed the murderer. I let myself enjoy the delight of the drug.