Caustos_Seraphim
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It always hurt. Not that Paige was complaining, there were far worse jobs someone could have when they were just starting out in the world, but the graveyard shift from four pm to two am would never feel good. At least not in the morning. Shuffling through the small hallway from her bedroom to the kitchen and living area the young woman ran hot water over the dishes left to be done (a great way to keep mold from growing) and started to search out a meal. It was a talent she had honed long ago, preparing herself for the day with eyes still nearly shut. The effect made Paige look a great deal like a drunk as she swayed through her kitchen to gather up a bowl and some cereal, but at least it felt as if she were getting a little more rest. Something she desperately needed after another night filled with dreams of burning buildings and bloody corpses.
Turning off the water and yawning Paige reluctantly left the kitchen. Amazingly, despite the pile of dishes, it was the cleanest place in the apartment next to her room. She needed a few havens or else the college student would easily go insane.
It had been two years since she had set out on her own, not by choice, but by necessity. Her mother passed away from an unknown tumor in her skull leaving her alone, but at least prepared, to scrape by on her own. And really, it could be worse. Holding her bowl up so the milk didn't slosh out she plopped herself down on her worn couch. It took some effort but she ignored the meows of her mother's old tabby cat as it begged for some of the milk. It almost earned itself a fair amount of the liquid as she sneezed; wincing and cradling the bowl close to herself to avoid any messes. Cursing and digging out a tissue from beneath her the young woman frowned at herself, maybe it was time to clean...then again, had she taken her allergy pill that morning?
"It could be worse." Her constant mantra. starting to wake up by that point the tissue was tossed into one of many piles and the meal was devoured. Only once every sugary piece vanished did Paige gave in to the cat's request and set the bowl down for her to lap up the remains of the milk, "Spoiled brat." she added fondly. Running a hand through her hair she debating whether or not she had time for a shower or if a hat would be the best course of action. Her bluish-black bangs and ends of her layered hair had become greasy, but after considering how tired she was...Paige went for a hat. Comfort was more important than appearances at college anyhow and while her disgust with her habits had picked up recently it gave her no reason not to continue. Clothes were gathered from the cleanest smelling bunch and she shook a hat to remove cat hairs. The ritual took hardly more than ten minutes excluding any lagging that Paige inflicted upon herself.
"Alright, you have a good day Keisha." The cat mewed a response, if only because the bowl of milk was being taken away,"And you too mom." Of course it was silly, to talk to a picture. But Paige had set the old photo of her mother and whom she had been told was her father near the door to do just that. Her mother really had been a beautiful woman, long wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes, pale skin. It was a stark contrast to the man next to her who was almost solely created out of dark shades. His hair matched Paige's and a bit of his eyes had made it into hers as well, darkening the blue that came from her mother. Though on the bright side she had managed to retain both of her eyes while the man had a patch over one of his own...though it might have been part of the 'costume', who knew? "Good day to you too you dead beat." it was a teasing voice as Paige poked at the picture. She didn't quite believe that she had any real relation to the man and never having him there didn't make her long for anything. Her mother had done well on her own. Sighing and straightening up from the picture Paige took hold of the handle to her book bag, on wheels to save her back, "And behave Keisha! Clean the house a bit while I'm gone." Paige added, though the cat had already slunk off to take a nap as its master headed for the door.
Paige was not the air headed type. No, she suspected everybody and everything whether it was with good reason or not. Some would call this being paranoid, she would just call it being cautious. It was a dangerous world after all and one silly mistake could lead to accidents, fire, murder...murder? She shook her head and cleared her thoughts and continued along the path that lead to the college. Well, yes, murder was always a possibility and she shuddered as images flashed through her mind. So easy it was to split a person apart, to examine their insides and know them intimately as they squirmed and pleaded and cried.
She did not want to experience that.
She did not want to have pain in her life, or sadness, or trials of any sort.
She would rather live a peaceful, calm, and boring life.
Yes, that was the way to go she decided and gave a small nod to her thoughts, ignoring the old woman she passed that seemed to think that Paige was crazy. But trouble was funny, in a way, you could prepare for it every second of every day, but if it really wanted to get you; it would.
The young woman had taken a self defense class when she first started college, just in case. She kept pepper spray in her right pocket and a tiny knife in her left should anything go wrong. She even mapped out possible escape routes to get back home or to a safe haven if she were attacked because nobody knew what was around the corner.
But it mattered nothing in the long run. If somebody wanted to get you they would, theft, death, rape it could all happen in an instant. And it did.
Thinking about her schedule for the day and whether or not she had enough change in her pocket to afford a coffee Paige approached an alley she was usually cautious of. There had never been any trouble, the only thing ever in it was garbage and a man aptly named Homeless Bob. She did not find the pet name the students gave him very funny. But she didn't feel pity either, Paige would simply watch him out of the corner of her eye to make sure he didn't do anything funny. So out of the corner of her eye she saw the shapes and saw the movement, but there was nothing to be done.
Hand around her mouth, her throat, another set grabbing her about her waist and dragging her into the darkness as she thrashed. The knife was forgotten, the pepper spray didn't exist, and for the life of her (quite literally) she couldn't think of any throws or kicks to try and save herself. Her back pack was abandoned in the opening to the alleyway, the only sign that anything had gone wrong. She thrashed, finally doing something useful and biting the hand around her mouth. It was filthy and tasted foul, but she broke the skin and had her voice free for one, helpless cry.
"HELP! SOMEON-!" and the world went dark.
It was brief, the pain shot through the young woman's body as her head was bashed against the brick wall of the music store on one side of the alley. She could feel the blood ooze out and mat in her hair and silently wondered if she would be alright...no, silly question, of course she wouldn't be? She felt something sharp against her throat and a hand pushing its way under her pants. No, she would not be fine, not at all.
❝lἶνἶղց ἶղ მ ძɾεმɱ, օɾ ძɾεმɱἶղց էօ lἶνε?❞
