Shadows Of Dark Redemption

I bite my pencil, perhaps it's the tension. The professor hasn’t stopped looking at me for ninety seconds. He keeps staring at me while explaining terms of writing and literature. I’m eager to get back to my apartment, feed my cat, and fall asleep, once again feeling depressed because Jeremy left me. Yes, he left me for another girl. I close my book and focus on the horrible mole a classmate has on his neck. It’s amusing how it looks like an eye. The professor taps his hands to dust off the chalk and keeps looking at me. He looks at me with desire. I don’t understand. "Psst." I hear something close by, suddenly someone pulls my hair. It's my classmate sitting behind me. "Do you say the professor is interested in Natalia? He hasn’t stopped looking at her throughout the entire class. Maybe it’s her skirt, what do you think?" I look at him incredulously, what is he talking about? Suddenly, I realize the professor has never been looking at me. He has been looking at Natalia, the girl sitting in front of me. She’s wearing a too-short skirt, and it's common for college students to cozy up to professors for good grades. What do I know, that’s how they say Harvard is. "Alright, guys, remember to read page fourteen for Monday, and I don’t want to repeat the same thing from yesterday again," he says with a smile, pleased to have finished the class. "And by the way, have a nice weekend!" Everyone thanks him with a smile and rushes out. It’s already night, as usual. Studying at night was the last thing I wanted, but it was required because of the stupid job I’ve taken to afford the rent for my apartment a few blocks away from here. Descending the stairs from the lecture hall, I glance at the professor from the corner of my eye as I try to leave the room, and he whistles at me. Like I’m a dog. "Miss Vansenk," he says as he approaches me. "Is everything alright? I've seen you nervous." He runs his hand along my bare arm, a tingling sensation washes over me. "It’s nothing, Professor, it’s just anxiety. You know I suffer from anxiety." "I know, it’s tough." He looks at me with his deep eyes, as green as a mint leaf. He rubs the back of his neck, nervous. "If you need anything, just let me know. We're here to help you, and you know that very well." I smile, I don’t know why. I’ve always seen his good intentions. Maybe I’m wrong about that, maybe not. "Yes, thank you," I say nervously, I just want to leave. I walk out through the lecture hall's entrance, and I hear the professor's steps behind me. "I’m sorry about your father." No one had said that since more or less everything happened. In reality, my father had passed away because he had decided that his life was no longer worth it, he had no direction or anything. I wasn’t to blame for that, but sometimes I felt like a prisoner for not having helped him as I promised. I felt like crying, I suddenly felt so alone. "I’m sorry too, now he rests in peace." I turn around and head home. The hallway dims as I walk through the university. I didn’t understand why everything seemed to revolve around the reason for my father. Everything gave me anxiety. Jeremy left me, my father passed away, and my mother didn’t want to see me. "See you on Monday, Gabrielle!" someone shouts from afar. It was Vanyna, a classmate from the Literature class. I wave back and head toward my car. I walk slowly, it has been raining all afternoon since I left the apartment. Sometimes I’m afraid to return, sometimes I’m afraid not to return. I’m getting to my car, and I see someone sitting on the hood of it. I stand still, cold, frozen by that incandescent shadow leaning on my old, broken-down car that I still haven’t managed to fix. I press the button for the automatic lock, and the alarm deactivation suddenly sounds. The person jumps startled and looks in my direction. They hold a cigarette in their hand. "Sorry, it’s my car," I say as I approach. "It’s not a seat." He laughs, hiding his face under the dark hoodie of his jacket. "I know, I know perfectly well. I was just waiting for you." "Waiting for me?" I try to meet his gaze, but all I find is darkness. "You're Gabrielle, aren't you?" he asks, I don’t mention the scare I’m giving myself in the middle of the night on a Friday. "I'm an acquaintance of your father, I'd like to speak to him." Something breaks inside me. This person doesn’t know that my father passed away. "You can’t, he doesn’t live with me." I try to unlock the car but drop the key. Silly, Gabrielle, silly. "As far as I know, yes, he does live with you. You’re his little girl, aren’t you?" I feel him touch my hand, and his hand is warm. I see him bend down and pick up the key that fell to the ground. He opens my hand and places the key there. "What do you want? Leave me alone." "I want to see your father, Gabrielle, we have unfinished business." I try not to look him in the eyes, but I know his face is illuminated by the small light beam just shining on my car. I can’t, but I must. I turn, and I see him. He’s a guy, my age or older. He has dark hair, yet white, as if it were dyed that color. And tattoos, various tattoos, on his neck. Also a scar that runs across his left cheek. As if his face had been cut. I lower my gaze. "Look at you," I mutter. "Cain, I'm Cain." I see the cigarette butt drop near my feet. "Look, Cain, my father passed away a few days ago," I reply, determined. "And I'm not in the mood for jokes. So, you can leave me alone, okay?" I see something strange in his gaze, is he crying? "Your... Your father died?" There's sadness, as if he's surprised by the news. But there's also malice, a lot of malice. Though it hardens, and a mischievous smile spreads across his lips. "What's funny?" I ask, I can’t believe he's still playing with me. "So, you're alone and your father died, how curious." "I have nothing to explain to you, goodbye." I turn around and insert the key into my car door. Until I hear a van brake and several guys getting out of it. Black suits, weapons. Big guys coming towards me. My last glance goes to Cain, while the men in black hold me firmly and take me to the van. I resist, but I can’t. My car gets further and further away. "I told you, Gabrielle, your father has unfinished business with me." Oh, dad, what were you involved in?