A mist was beginning to settle; the houses ahead were barely
visible, even though they were lined one after the other all the way down the
road. The street lights shone through the murkiness down on to the sodden
pathway, a hop scotch of puddles and discarded cigarette butts. She could see
that the road ahead was dimly lit and she knew being alone at this time was not
a good idea. The trees on the right side of the road loomed over her, swaying
in the growing breeze.
The walk back was to be a cold one. Not only because of the
wind that whipped at her face and the droplets of rain that pattered down on
her leather jacket, but because of the coldness she felt within her once
beating heart.
Every little noise sent her in to a panic. The rustling of
leaves in the nearby park, the whine of a car alarm in the distance. Her pace quickened and the tap-tap-tap of her
high heeled boots grew louder. Echoing.
She passed the motorbike that was always chained up outside
of a derelict looking house and wondered to herself “does anyone ever actually
ride that?”
The rain grew heavier and the wind blew harder, but she
pushed on knowing her destination was just past the trainers that hung down decoratively
from the telephone pole.
It was during times like these when she saw with real
clarity. She’d been through enough hurt now to recognise this feeling, but she
found comfort in knowing that nothing more could be taken from her because she
had nothing left to lose.
She was once a bright, happy young woman who needed nothing
other than herself to remain that way. She relied on no one and asked for
nothing. She did well at school, at college, passed her driving test and held
down a steady job for two years whilst studying. She was a proud person who cared
for others and would always do what was asked of her even if it meant putting
herself at risk.
It was inevitable really, that one day she would just…
break.
Reaching home she unlocked the door and walked in to the
flat. All was still, everyone was asleep.
The feeling of sadness swelled inside of her as she sulked
to her room, alone again. Turning the key in the lock she longed to be greeted
by something other than a cold, empty room. She wandered to the mirror and
caught a glance at her reflection, a broken girl with tangled wet hair and
smeared eye make-up, was this a true reflection of who she was now?
Perching herself on the window ledge she flung open the
catch and raised a cigarette to her cracked lips. Bright embers of orange burnt
as she inhaled deeply and blew clouds out of the window. She looked back on the
path she had just walked, the path that would once again lead her back to him.
Everyone could see through her bravado. The way she walked was different, as though something was missing, and that's because something was. A part of herself was gone, perished in the cross fire to the point of no return. a part of her had been destroyed.
