I quickly exited the diner after my shift ended not wanting to spend any more time than necessary. The diner was almost like my home, but I also needed time away from it seeing as I just worked a double shift, I was pretty much dead on my feet. The restaurant was in a rundown area of New York City not that I minded. But not many wanted to walk through drug deals or shot downs to get some lunch with us.
I looked around the empty streets and down at my watch. It read 3:36, which explained why no one was walking around looking for trouble. Anyone else would probably be terrified here, but I know the streets, alleys, which gangs were where like the back of my hand. I slowed my pace enjoying the breeze and silence that I knew I wouldn't get once in my run down apartment.
The stars were extremely bright tonight I noted as I happened to look up. The breeze picked up and I held my thin black coat tighter to myself trying to get away from the elements. In the next few seconds I could make out a gun shot in the distance and the cry of a baby not to far away. Probably woken up by the noise. i could hear running not to far away, I looked back to see a group of people running across the street and they swiftly turned around a corner. No doubt they were involved in the gun fight.
I slowly made my way to the middle of the street and looked back. i could make out the outline of a man laying on the floor with his hand over his heart.
"Thirty-three" I mumbled as I continued my walk after making it back to the sidewalk. In my three years here I have seen thirty-two, now thirty-three people die because they took a wrong turn, made enemies with the wrong people, or let drugs take over their lives.
The term everything happens for a reason came into my mind at that moment. I often wonder what fucked up little world the person who made this quote lived in. Certainly not the one I lived in. The world where I had witnessed so much agony and death and betrayal. What was the reason for all that? Maybe because god had a twisted sense of humor and needed a good laugh. Who knows?
I could feel my anger bubbling up but pushed it back down as I stepped foot into my apartment building. The smell of sex, alcohol and cigarettes hit me full force as soon as I opened the door. My ears were meet with sobbing, pounding, and yells. Some in despair and some in pleasure. The building didn't have an elevator so I made my journey up the 2 floors on the stairs. I turned onto my hallway just in time to see Mrs. Morrison push her husband out the door and start screaming profanities at him.
Mrs. Morrison was an older women with wrinkles covering her face. She was always dressed in her nightie and slippers, no matter what time of the day. She had dark skin that was covered with darker and lighter spots scattered on the exposed parts of her skin. I walked past and heard the end of her rants before she forcefully slammed the door in Mr. Morrison's face.
Apparently she caught him with another woman when she came back from work early. In my opinion she should have dumped his lazy ass years ago. She worked at least three jobs and always looked as if she was going to fall into a coma at any second. All her husband did was drink and fuck anything with two legs and a heartbeat. No matter which gender.
I shuttered as I could feel his eyes rack over my body as I fished my keys out of my purse. I opened the door and stepped in not before muttering "In your dreams, old man" and slammed the door in his fuming face.
I locked all 3 locks on my door just as the slamming started. I quietly looked through the peephole to see Mr. Morrison slamming his fists on my door yelling about showing me obedience and that I should be punished. I raised my eyebrow at his antics and made a mental note to slip a pocket knife into my purse in case I ever ran into him again.
After a few minutes the pounding stopped and I heard heavy footsteps making their way towards the staircase.
I had dealt with men like Mr. Morrison for quite awhile and knew if they didn't get what they want, they would forcibly take it. I had been lucky never had to have been put into any kind of situation like that. I prayed my luck would hold up in that department. I slouched down onto my couch and took in my surroundings. My apartment consisted of three rooms. The living room/ kitchen. Half the room was carpeted while the other was a contrast that was lined with a yellowish tile, which I'm sure at one point was probably an off while. The living room consisted on a couch and a little stand that I used to put my food on, almost as a makeshift dinning room table.
The kitchen consisted of small fridge with an even smaller freezer on top. Next to it was a gas stove and a small sink that at most could probably hold only 3 dishes. The next room was my bedroom, it seemed the previous owner had took the door separating the two rooms with him when he moved leaving me to have to put a small certain over the open space trying to give myself some privacy. The bedroom consisted of a mattress that was sloppily tossed on the ground in the middle of the bed. A dark blue blanket was draped over it along with a small pillow that was tinted with red. I had accidentally cut my face with my nails while sleeping leaving the blood to soak into the pillow for a few hours until I awoke.
The other door that was connected to the living room was the bathroom. It had the same tile as the kitchen and consisted of an antique looking tub with a shower head placed a few feet above. The small sink was placed only an inch away from the shower and then the toilet next to it. Even with only me living there, the bathroom was a tight fit.
I jumped up swiftly from my place on the couch to make my way to the kitchen only inches away. I opened the fridge only to be meet with two water bottles, a bag of celery and a can of chef boyardee. I sighed and grabbed the chef boyadree and a fork that was sitting on the counter and retreated to the couch. I ate the cold pasta in silence as i looked out the window. My eyes were meet with millions of stars and the neighboring building. I could see multiple lights still on and couldn't help but wondering what the owners of the apartments were doing at this moment. I was brought out of my musings when my fork meet the bottom of the can. I quickly tossed the can into a trash bag located next to the counter and chucked the fork into the sink. I pushed the curtain aside and throw my jacket off and bent down and collapsed onto the mattress. I soon drifted asleep to the sound of babies crying and sirens blaring somewhere in the distance.
Hey Guys! Don't shot me. I'm sorry! I know I haven't updated this sotry in more than a year but I was rereading it and couldn't help but cringe at it :( I hated it so I decided to start again! The story will still follow the same plot, you know with Emmett and Bella being siblings and abused by their father and Emmett leaving Bella alone but i just wanted to change a lot so i decided to just start the story over! Sorry! I hope you all enjoy this verison as much as the other one. Review and let me know :) I would also like to apologize at my spelling errors. I'm writing on the wordpad on my computer and it doesn't have spellcheck. But I'm trying to reread it all before I upload it. Bye and Enjoy. REVIEW!
I DO NOT own Twilight.