Blood Red Clotts

1151 Words
ꕥ Anaïs “ Evil, I've come to tell you that she's evil, most definitely. Evil, ornery, scandalous and evil, most definitely.” As I walked home on this dark and gloomy day, my thoughts returned to my encounter with Mr. St James. I remember him looking at me, his eyes crinkling as he tried to hold in a laugh. I got up, shoving him out of my way as I speed walked to the toilets. After staying there till 3, I snuck out and made my way home. On arrival, I made my way into the house quietly. My parents were home. I walked into my room and closed my door quietly and got changed and scrolled through my phone. After a few hours I made my way downstairs to cut some mango. " Who's she?" The annoyingly high pitched voice of whoever rang throughout the kitchen. I stayed quiet, too tired to even form an intelligible response. " My daughter." " Why's she here?" The b***h whined. Just shut up. " She lives here, speaking of which, kid I got a call that you bunked, what's up with that?" I ignored him. He was only acting as if he cared in order to impress his f**k buddy. " I'm talking to you," he said raising his voice slightly. " I wanted to." " I don't care if you want to, you go to your lessons." " Why don't you mind your business the way I mind mine. If I don’t wanna go to a lesson what does it have to do with you? You’re not losing anything, are you?" I walked away from him and back upstairs. I put on a pair of jeans and a hoodie and grabbed my bag and some cash. I wasn't staying here. I hopped out of the window, all the while my father was yelling at me, and walked to the bus stop. I waited for the bus that took me into town. When it arrived, I got on it. Soon after I received a text from my father, telling me that we had to have dinner with some important people that he wanted me to meet tomorrow. I rolled my eyes and stuffed my phone in my pocket. Once I got off the bus, I made my way around the shopping district. I went in and out of shops looking around for something to buy, in the end coming up empty handed. I got a text. From: Anonymous. Great. It read: Bored Anaïs? Go down to Bishop's Street and head straight into the club. I shook my head. No f*****g way. He, they…They'll be waiting for me. And I would be walking straight into their trap. It wasn’t happening. I looked away from my phone and to my surroundings. Nothing but groupies and drunkards. I couldn’t do anything there. I found my feet moving along with a mind of their own, dragging me down to Bishops Street despite my mind's apparent disapproval. I'll be smart about it, is what I told myself. I knew I wouldn't. In the time that I was arguing with myself, I'd managed to make it to the booming club. It was in your face. You couldn't miss it. I took a deep breath and queued up, waiting to be let in. Of course the bouncers let me in, completely unaware of my actual age, and ushered me inside. Lights. I was blinded for a few seconds. Unable to see anything or anyone. I panicked. There's a maniac on the loose and here I was, practically blind. I looked at the ground and allowed my eyes to adjust themselves. After a while, I was finally able to see again. And with that, I made my way over to the bar. As I took a seat and hailed the bartender down. I felt a nerve wracking feeling encompass me. Intense was the only real word to describe it. It came surging in waves of increasing intensity. Magnifying the scale of worry that I had originally been dealing with. While I lost myself in my thoughts, I was interrupted by the bartender. " What can I get ya, miss?" " You have coke?" He lifted his eyebrows. Only then did I realise what I'd said. " Not diet, just the regular Coca Cola," I tried to play it off as an innocent mistake. He bought it and poured me the coke into a glass. I wasn't really paying too much attention if I'm honest. I was more focused on getting rid of this damned feeling that pumped in my veins. A minute later, the glass was in front of me. After I paid him I drank the entire contents of the glass in a total of 3 large, and slightly painful, gulps. I shook my head and sat in the stool for a while. A while quickly turned into three quarters of an hour and seeing as I was fatigued, I decided to quickly go to the toilet before leaving the club. As I made my way to the toilets, my head began spinning endlessly. I grabbed the walls for stability just as my vision began to blur. I felt hot. Boiling. I couldn't breathe. My throat was sore. My head was pounding relentlessly. I closed be my eyes for just a little bit of comfort. That's when I began slipping. I felt myself slipping out of consciousness. Out of this world into the deep dark abyss of nothingness. Just as I began to fade my ears tricked me into believing that I was being talked to. " I've got you, Anaïs," is what he said. ... I woke up feeling drained. My limbs were aching and my eyes felt as if they had been glued shut. I was wet. Freezing and wet. Then it hit me. I breathed in. And it was putrid. Immediately I wanted to throw up. The smell was everywhere. I couldn't escape it. It was everywhere. I forced my eyes open and realised I was facing the ground. I mustered what little strength that was left in me and used my arms to push me into a seated position. The floor was red. Blood red. Deep. Dark. Red. I brought my hands up and it was all over my palms. There were some large dark blobs within the liquid and I realised they were clots. For a minute, just for a minute, I'd forgotten about the smell. But who could forget that? I felt myself hurling and looked around the unfamiliar room, trying to find the source. And right next to me it was. I lay next to that. For hours. In its blood. A body. I grabbed it by the shoulder and turned it to face me. And staring back at me. Was the decomposing body... Of Katrina O'Hara. ꕥ
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