"If you love me, let me go, chapter 2
Anessa's P.O.V.
I had began walking back to the door that was the entrance to a hell I'd hoped that I'd never see again, I stopped about 2 feet before I reached the door and thought about the time my mother walked out this very same door, its been three months since then, I don't miss her.
I brought myself to walk through the door, to the same disturbed place I'd lived in for 17 years. I walked over to the table picked up the bowls that my half brothers and sisters had eaten out of earlier that morning and began walking the few feet to the kitchen. I reached the sink and placed the bowls down inside it, I ran the water on the dishes for about a minute to make it easier for Sara to wash later on. I turned the water off, and began walking into the living room.
When I reached the living room I took the blankets and pillows off of the bed that I had slept in, I folded it back into a couch, and put the cushions back in their place. I grabbed an old suitcase that I had packed the previous night, containing my passport (just in case), about 200 dollars, clothes, pictures of my brothers and sisters, and my most prized possession, my cd player. I had also packed my cd's, consisting of English punk and the Beatles. I wheeled the suitcase over to the front door, placed it against the old wood, and headed into the bathroom.
When I reached the bathroom I looked the same as I did earlier that morning, or simply put, I was a mess. I decided I needed to take a shower to get my step father "off of me," so I walked the 6 feet to the shower, pulled back the curtain, and turned on the water. I ran my fingers underneath the water, to prevent a burn or a freezing cold wake up, I decided it was fine, and began to take off my pajamas. As soon as the last piece of clothing hit the blue rug on the floor, I had already felt the steamy water trickling ever so eagerly down my naked back, I ran my hands through my hair, and made sure it was covered in water, I reached for the shampoo laying on the corner of the tub, there was just enough to wash my long hair. As the shampoo settled on my scalp I grabbed the soap and cleaned myself. I rinsed my hair out, and watched as the foamy shampoo trickled down the drain, almost holding back as if it knew its simple job was over, but I didn't get out right away like I usually did, I just stood under the water, and observed the dull green tiles covering the inside of the shower, they blurred when the water from the shower filled my eyes, I liked the way they looked blurred more then crisp, it reminded me of a musty swamp filled with creatures doing all they can to survive.
When I realized I had been standing there for about 15 minutes, I turned the water off, reached through the curtain to grasp an off white towel, hanging on the rack attached to the wall. I wrapped the towel around my body, and walked to the mirror, it had small droplets o condensation running down it, I took my towel off and wiped the mirror so I could see.
I reached under the sink to open a cabinet filled with my make up and hair ties. I reached for my make up bag pulled out my base, powder, eyeliner, eye shadow, and mascara. I put a bit of base on my awaiting finger and rubbed it on my soft face, being sure to rub it all in to avoid lines, I put my powder on next which is really just another way to conceal my pores, and such. Next I reached for my mascara being careful not to poke my eye out I applied it to the top lashes and then the bottom, I observed the work I had done so far in the mirror and was pleased. I reached for my eye shadow and applied a layer of dark brown to my eye lid, once I was done blending that in, I grasped my eyeliner and applied a thick line underneath my soft eyes, and then a thin one to my upper lid. Today I thought I looked quite beautiful, considering the circumstances.
I put on my black and red bra then I began to put on the black shirt with the simple word "RIOT" placed on the front, once that was on and situated I reached for my red panties, and placed those in their rightful spot. Next was my favorite air of jeans, they were ripped and had various logos set in random places and last but not least I laced up my black and red hightop converse. I grabbed my make up bag and placed all that I had used back inside, closing it with a half broken zipper. I hung my towel up, to prevent mildew, and walked out the bathroom door.
I reached the living room and checked to make sure I had gotten all of my belongings, when I found I had, I walked to the front door, grabbed my keys, suitcase, and wallet, then I turned the knob to the outside world.
When I reached the other side of the door I could smell the familiar smells of blood and drugs. I walked past all of the doors leading to the staircase, still wheeling my old suitcase behind me. I reached the door, labeled "STAIRS" by an old worn sticker, probably stuck on by a smart ass 13 year old. I pushed through that door, and began to descend down the stairs. I was so eager to reach the clean air outside, that I barely noticed the sound of my suitcase bumping along after me.
When I reached the final door, that would lead me to freedom, I pushed it open with no hesitation. I gasped at the sight of my dead beat neighborhood, and sighed the first sigh of relief. I could hear the sweet sounds of my old converse meeting the ground and then departing from it.
I knew that no matter where I was going to end up that to me, it would be paradise.
I had began walking back to the door that was the entrance to a hell I'd hoped that I'd never see again, I stopped about 2 feet before I reached the door and thought about the time my mother walked out this very same door, its been three months since then, I don't miss her.
I brought myself to walk through the door, to the same disturbed place I'd lived in for 17 years. I walked over to the table picked up the bowls that my half brothers and sisters had eaten out of earlier that morning and began walking the few feet to the kitchen. I reached the sink and placed the bowls down inside it, I ran the water on the dishes for about a minute to make it easier for Sara to wash later on. I turned the water off, and began walking into the living room.
When I reached the living room I took the blankets and pillows off of the bed that I had slept in, I folded it back into a couch, and put the cushions back in their place. I grabbed an old suitcase that I had packed the previous night, containing my passport (just in case), about 200 dollars, clothes, pictures of my brothers and sisters, and my most prized possession, my cd player. I had also packed my cd's, consisting of English punk and the Beatles. I wheeled the suitcase over to the front door, placed it against the old wood, and headed into the bathroom.
When I reached the bathroom I looked the same as I did earlier that morning, or simply put, I was a mess. I decided I needed to take a shower to get my step father "off of me," so I walked the 6 feet to the shower, pulled back the curtain, and turned on the water. I ran my fingers underneath the water, to prevent a burn or a freezing cold wake up, I decided it was fine, and began to take off my pajamas. As soon as the last piece of clothing hit the blue rug on the floor, I had already felt the steamy water trickling ever so eagerly down my naked back, I ran my hands through my hair, and made sure it was covered in water, I reached for the shampoo laying on the corner of the tub, there was just enough to wash my long hair. As the shampoo settled on my scalp I grabbed the soap and cleaned myself. I rinsed my hair out, and watched as the foamy shampoo trickled down the drain, almost holding back as if it knew its simple job was over, but I didn't get out right away like I usually did, I just stood under the water, and observed the dull green tiles covering the inside of the shower, they blurred when the water from the shower filled my eyes, I liked the way they looked blurred more then crisp, it reminded me of a musty swamp filled with creatures doing all they can to survive.
When I realized I had been standing there for about 15 minutes, I turned the water off, reached through the curtain to grasp an off white towel, hanging on the rack attached to the wall. I wrapped the towel around my body, and walked to the mirror, it had small droplets o condensation running down it, I took my towel off and wiped the mirror so I could see.
I reached under the sink to open a cabinet filled with my make up and hair ties. I reached for my make up bag pulled out my base, powder, eyeliner, eye shadow, and mascara. I put a bit of base on my awaiting finger and rubbed it on my soft face, being sure to rub it all in to avoid lines, I put my powder on next which is really just another way to conceal my pores, and such. Next I reached for my mascara being careful not to poke my eye out I applied it to the top lashes and then the bottom, I observed the work I had done so far in the mirror and was pleased. I reached for my eye shadow and applied a layer of dark brown to my eye lid, once I was done blending that in, I grasped my eyeliner and applied a thick line underneath my soft eyes, and then a thin one to my upper lid. Today I thought I looked quite beautiful, considering the circumstances.
I put on my black and red bra then I began to put on the black shirt with the simple word "RIOT" placed on the front, once that was on and situated I reached for my red panties, and placed those in their rightful spot. Next was my favorite air of jeans, they were ripped and had various logos set in random places and last but not least I laced up my black and red hightop converse. I grabbed my make up bag and placed all that I had used back inside, closing it with a half broken zipper. I hung my towel up, to prevent mildew, and walked out the bathroom door.
I reached the living room and checked to make sure I had gotten all of my belongings, when I found I had, I walked to the front door, grabbed my keys, suitcase, and wallet, then I turned the knob to the outside world.
When I reached the other side of the door I could smell the familiar smells of blood and drugs. I walked past all of the doors leading to the staircase, still wheeling my old suitcase behind me. I reached the door, labeled "STAIRS" by an old worn sticker, probably stuck on by a smart ass 13 year old. I pushed through that door, and began to descend down the stairs. I was so eager to reach the clean air outside, that I barely noticed the sound of my suitcase bumping along after me.
When I reached the final door, that would lead me to freedom, I pushed it open with no hesitation. I gasped at the sight of my dead beat neighborhood, and sighed the first sigh of relief. I could hear the sweet sounds of my old converse meeting the ground and then departing from it.
I knew that no matter where I was going to end up that to me, it would be paradise.
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