Chapter Five : Strike

Mom?" I turn around and ask. "What do you mean 'Mom'?" my confused face doesn't get past Layla and she seems a little furious as well as scared. Dante looks furious and starts growling, but one look from the woman and even his breath becomes inaudible.

"What on Earth is going on here?" a spitful voice asks. "Are you insane?" The lady now getting off the car and making her way towards us.

"Mom, wait. I can ex-" Layla starts, but her mother's palm slapping her stops her midsentence.

"I've only been gone for half a day and you already spend your time doing charity work for stray dogs?" the lady who is pressumed to be Layla's mom asks, giving me a disaproving look from head to toe, empowering my own self on a mentale battle of remaining calm.

I feel my cheeks burning, my bloodrush becomes hot and fast, my heartbeats unregulated and torturely pounding, and I think that anyone can hear it from a mile away. I focus on my breathing trying to calm my nerves and restraining the adrenaline to kick in.

"Mom, there is no need to be rud-" another slap. Harder. Harsher. Layla's head turns to the left and her hand is reductantly covering her, now, red cheek.

"In the car." the devilous woman says. "Now!" she screams and I see the poor girl obeying her mother's request after giving me a short glance and an telepatic sorry.

After she places herself on the passager's seat, pluging her belt, the tension rises soo much, that you could cut it with a knife.

"Now, dear Miss White, " she trails off, offering me one of the most poisonous grimace I've ever seen in my life, making the hairs on my neck stand up straight. "I don't know what all this was about, but if you don't want to end like most stray dogs do, that being euthanasied, I strongly suggest you to keep your dirty ways out of my daughter's disposal. I hope I've made myself pretty clear from the start and there won't be a second outburst, because I can't stand the fact that my baby destroys her future and natural talents for the lowest of our kind." she lets the venomous words climb to my ears, and I swallow my own words, keeping my tongue in between my teeth to prevent me from verbaly attacking her.

Just as I am about to nod and enter the building, someone walks outside angrily fast, almost hitting me square in the face with the metal door.

"Charlie." a sweet spitful voice, belonging to Sylvia Kane, makes its way to my ears. I instantly look up, observing an far old times mental war going between the two grown up women.

"Oh would you look at that? If it isn't really the Sylvia Kane, my old friend and protector of the weak. I guess some things never change when it comes to you and your relationships." Charlie says and stares into Sylvia's eyes with boredom and superiority.

"If that's what you remember, you can also recall that I will  be able to kick your adder ass again and again until you won't be able to sit straight and elegant on a chair ever again, don't you now?" she emphasizes some words, raising her voice and never breaking eye contact.

Before Charlie can interrupt her, she continues bravely. "And I will. Soo God help me, I will  and I will enjoy it. Every bit of it." Sylvia is fixing her with her deep and dark look, daring her to mess with her momma bear atitude. "Now go to your car, get in and drive away calmly, before I send you away the hard way." I see Charlie's face muscles contracting, her nose scrunching until her glasses might fall off and her stare sends deathless glares through black eyes as if trying to smash Sylvia's head with her mind.

After she storms to her black shining Range Rover, she threatens that 'this is not over and she shall have Sylvia's head on a pike', leaving behind a laughing Mrs Kane whom I think is hoping that Charlie's car is blown fifty feet in the air and sent back straight to the pits of Hell, that if, Layla wasn't also in the vehicle, sharing the same fate.

We both look after the car once the engine starts and only breack the contact when it disappears from our vision. I feel my eyes watering from anger and I slowly turn to Sylvia who looks merely concerned.

"Are you okay, darling?" she asks me and I feel the regret in her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I assure her. "What was all that about?" I ask her and smile a little remembering the way she reacted. Even if it was barely a conversation back then, the only words being curse-words anyway, she gave away a protecting side, making me feel a little embarased, but grateful in an unimaginable way.

"Old habits die hard." she says, escaping a laugh. Then a look of sorrow makes its way onto her features, urging her to continue. "Charlie...she is not a bad person. Well, she wasn't like this in the past. But you should know that some people put on a brave face only to be tearing apart when the world can't see them." I get a hint that there's something more hidden between the words, but I just nod.

"Thank you for all...that. You saved me once again." I laugh a little, feeling kind of like a parasite whom thinks it's independent but it seems like there is always someone to save them. Oh, the irony! I hate being the damsel in distress and yet, somehow, I got saved more than once in these couple days.

"Cathia, I will be here for you whenever you need it."

"But why would you do all that for a stranger?"

"The word 'stranger' feels uncomfortable. I would say that we're more of lost aquintances." Sylvia Kane tells me and I believe her. I know somwhere deep down that I know this woman, but my mind isn't cooperative enough to help me recreate the memories.

Feeling a drop of water on my cheek, I remember that we are still outside. The droplets keep multipling until there is pouring rain falling from the sky. The smell of the nature is more accentuated and I take a deep breath. It feels marvelous.

"Maybe we should get inside." I say. We enter the building, saying our goodbyes once we are in front of our flats. 

I get in and I feel loneliness falling around me. I take in the image of my apartment and I realise that Layla's bags are still at my place. I make a mintal note to bring them to her tomorrow at school.

I glance at the clock that is merely hanging from the wall. 8:45 pm. It's almost time to feed Dante, so I take him off his leash and take out my shoes. When I go to the cupboard he starts wiggling his little tail, giving me a look worth more than a million bucks. He is soo sincere and soo pure, only needing love and affection. He'll always be my partner in crime.

After he slowly eats his meal, I march towards my room, bringing out some school supplies. I take my Literature notebook and contemplate wheater I should do my homework now or wait until the next day. Luckily, it's due Wednesday. We've been given to write a poem of free choice. We get assignments like this once or twice a month to 'empower our subconscious to acknowledge more easily all kind of different emotions'. Perhaps to help us bring out the artist that's hidden inside. But man, if it's hidden, shouldn't it stay that way? I mean, I love poetry, but this time, the emotions given to create through our words and senses are 'despair' and 'fear'. 

I decide to start now.

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Slowly, after 45 minutes, I tear my tired eyes from the paper, cracking my fingers and my back, which had been in the same position for the whole time. The poem it's somehow ready, but I don't feel like changing anything. I read it aloud so that I can hear any weird ring that it may have.

"Alone in thoughts, I'm waiting for the light;

Waiting for the sunrise, waiting for the sight.

The yellow aura which city's frame it wokes

Is filling me with passion, with magic from the books.

My skinny fingers, the fragile frame they hold;

I think I was deceived, it's not a different mold.

The complex purpose of this life has a higher price,

So why my heart is empty? Who has to roll the dice?

The spirit forest calls my name through whispers and wind's breeze.

My feet can't move, my eyes can't see, my mind it seems to freeze.

Scared I am to be alone, conscious lost in time and space.

I will be strong, but in my mind, the picture holds no grace.

A lonely wolf with lazy eyes who hasn't had a pack;

A jolted soul sent in this time to fix a senseless crack.

I see no point in walking free when in my mind I'm trapped.

The chains are hard, the keys are none and in a map I'm kept.

The other one, thy part of me somewhere has gotten lost;

I keep on waiting, half awake, feeling I'm sick, and tossed.

I look around, I look behind, I hear the demon scream.

With flooding tears that stain my face, I run, I leave the dream.

I think some words are not where they are supposed to be and they add a strange ringing to this poem, but I'm soo not changing it now.

I don't know why, but after writing this down and hearing it and feeling it, some presure left my body. Some negativity has been discharged from my whole and breathing comes naturaly now, rather than forced.

Feeling dirty from all that has happened today, the need of hot water flows through my every cell.

I get my pajamas and head for the bathroom. I let the water pour and pour until it almost reaches the edge of the tub. I take the scrubs and the bath salt from underneath the sink and pour some into the steaming water. The smell makes me dizzy. I take off my clothes and get in, letting it burn my skin, washing away everything that's bad.

Holding my breath, I get completely under water. There is no more sound, no more images, no more sorrow. I'm finally able to relax.

I don't know how much time has passed. When I'm about to get up, I feel a splash. I open my eyes only to see Dante wiggling his tail, with playful eyes and full of water.

"Dante!" I exclaim laughing. He barks once and then splashes me again with his leg.

He loves water. He has been ever since I've known him. I shampoo his fur, carefully washing his little head.

When he is all shinny, I get out, drying myself and then, him. I clean the bathroom, feeling exhausted.

Still not feeling like eating, I make my way to the bedroom, continuing the 'sleepover' alone with a horror movie.