nights away

waking up 400 feet in the air was my first inclining that this wasn't going to be my normal day.

Tia was thrown into a world in the shadow of her own and soon loses herself while, to fit in she has to reinvent her whole personality .
with one piece of advice.
morals are a weakness


2. Another day


The cool caress of pristine white sheets against my skin awoke me with a shiver of hesitance. Clinging to the last few remnants of sleep I remained with closed eyelids, wanting the scorching memory of the dulling grey pain to be only the product of a restless night. For a bad dream and an overly active imagination to have generated the memory of those shoes. Unwilling to see the truth I curled deeper into the comfort of my duvet, covering my head to avoid the temptation. Opening my eyes would begin the chain of events of having to get up and ready, facing reality this close from the safety cloak of a dream causing me to sink further into my feathered protector.

The soft pacing brush of rubber on carpet, hushed towards me pausing in line with my head. my hair formed a veil over my eyes but I squeezed them tighter trying to block out the advancing presence. Pressure drew the duvet away near my clenched feet. Bending the mattress. Curling tighter into the foetal position I shied away from the nearing company. Willing myself to just fall back to sleep. A faint knock and call, then the retreat. A sighing breath released the pressure in my head, as stretched across the mattress feeling with my feet across the tingling warmth of where transient onlooker sat. My curiosity getting the better of me, I peered through a film of eyelashes, subtly surveying the room. The brightness of the day reflected by the room, I hadn't noticed under the opaque covers.  

A high window revealed an unfamiliar sky-scape, glass and metal caused glare to blind their surroundings filling the blue with smoky clouds and hardened concrete. The towering pillars, habitual to any large urban environment, reached towards the sky. man-made mountains engulfing nature.

Hearing the mumble of a door closing I lifted my head from the pillow. The surrounding rooms seemed silent. Crawling out from beneath the weighted sheets I tested the floor around the bed. Edging towards the door my bare foot falls were insulated by the plush woollen carpet. The room contained the simple elegance missed from a home, the emptiness of the room overcrowded any comforting feeling.

Reaching the door, I stared down the ashen corridor. Bleached white walls mirrored down the hall, doors and walls merging with each other only broken with the refracted light on the walls matt finish. A picture, reflected a bathroom, unknowing the length it had been, I mad a bee-line towards it and locked the door behind me.

Staring into the mirror above a basin I contemplated my reflection: my face pasty with neglect; my hair heavy with grease. Scooping up handfuls of water, I splashed my face and ran my damp fingers through my hair. It did no more than brush grease onto my fingers. I was in desperate need of a shower and wash hair, But that would have to wait. A barbed pain scraped through my abdomen, clawing at my stomach causing it to growl in protest.

I unlocked the door and peered down the corridor. Movement echoed in the blinding white of the hall. Footsteps. A door closing. The faint rustle of clothing bags. A flicker of a smidgeon of a figure peaked from behind the wall. Closing the door as quietly as I could without drawing suspicion I once again locked myself in the bathroom. Barricading the door with my body I immediately fervently looked around the room for anything I could use as a weapon after realising I had locked myself in the only room without a bloody window or escape route. Finding a shaving blade I listened at the door. The footsteps had become frenzied. Running closer. The door shook. Panicking I threw myself into the airing cupboard.  Taking deep breaths, I quietened my breathing. The silence was crashing in my ears.

The grating of metal against metal. And click. My breath caught in my throat.  The door shielded me and my escape. Footsteps. The tips of black leather shoes clashed with the cream door. The wooden panelling dug into my spine as I sunk back, trying to be swallowed by the linin. The shoes stopped. My body froze. Adrenalin screamed through each muscle's cells. My eyes blurred. My fists clenched around the blades handle. Sweaty palms added to the panic. A hand on the door. And. I ran. Cutting below the arm of the captor. I spun out of the door. The white distorted the surroundings. Crashing around the unfamiliar landscape. Arms wrapped around my waist. Scrambling towards the door all thoughts were overtaken with only one. The will to escape. Clawing at my attacker. I screamed and fought with each aching kick. Swinging wildly with the razor in hand. I had to get to the door. Needed to leave. I was released. Throwing myself at the door. I fell short. Grappling hands made their way up my body dragging me backwards. Need to escape. The hands met my own. Pining me to the floor. As I screamed in fury.

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