P.O.V.: Merla
My mate Alex passed me another {whoa, alcohol!} – my not-so-secret weakness – and I downed it in record time. He seemed impressed and, for the quarter of a second they actually acknowledged me, so did the girls clinging to either one of his arms. The blonde quickly went back to giggling at some comment Alex had made a few minutes ago while the red-head practically purred at him and nuzzled her head into his shoulder.
“D*mn cats.” I muttered, licking the last drop off of my bottle.
The darkness of the club wasn’t nearly as intimidating as it had been the first time I came here two years ago. A heavy beat was pulsing throughout the entire building while beams of varying colours of light flashed around on the lower level. It was busy for a Tuesday night, there had to have been at least a hundred people downstairs dancing.
Alex leaned across the small table separating us, flashing a small packet of {an adjective describing a drug} at me from the sleeve of his hoodie. I shook my head at him, “You know I don’t do {drug name}, Alex.” I told him, raising an eyebrow.
He shrugged, “It’s always worth asking.” I watched as my best friend since primary school rolled up a US twenty, an object I’d only seen in his possession simply because American money was otherwise useless here. {...} It was kind of funny watching the girls mewl about it's effects, actually.
I cracked open a new {drink!} with the edge of the table, embracing the scent of its contents. Just as I went to take my first sip, a strong hand grasped my wrist and jerked me from my seat, sending the bottle crashing to the floor. I whipped around to face my captor and wasn't at all surprised to find that it was the familiar face of Charlie Adams, one of Leeds’ most well-known policemen. Our eyes combated for a few moments, faces less than five centimetres apart, which was just long enough for me to tell Adams he'd wasted a perfectly good {drink!} and for a few other policemen to grab Alex and his girls.
Adams grimaced, “Merla, you gotta stop doing this. I can’t keep getting people to let you off so easy.”
I glared at him, my lips barely moving as I gave my reply. “You gonna be the one to tell mummy dearest? I hear the police can talk to the dead these days.” He flinched and I was kind of happy I’d struck a nerve somewhere within him. It was his fault my mum had died, if he’d ran just a bit faster, she would still be with me.
“Merla!” Alex called from the grasp of a husky officer. He had clearly been struggling, but the officer was huge and easily overpowered my old friend.
I looked at him accusingly. “You’re the one who does the drugs my friend. You know, you’re looking quite thin lately.”
“I thought we were friends?” He looked horrified and tried to jerk an arm free from the man’s grasp, but with no success. Alex grimaced at the officer and let himself go half-limp in the man’s arms, knowing that things would just be easier if he gave in.
My eyebrows furrowed. “You know I don’t do {drug!}, Alex.” I told him. That had been the only reason I’d had to tell him no in the past two years. “Things have changed.”
~
Leeds jail didn't look any different than it had looked the month before. Adams left me in my cell with nothing more than a disappointed sigh as he walked away. He acted like my father did for that brief moment he’d existed in my life. All
I thought you were better than this and
I wish you could be a quarter of what your mum was, but we all know that’ll never happen or
you’re no daughter of mine. My other daughter can at least appreciate her life. I’d sobbed for days because I’d genuinely thought it was my fault my mum died, and he happily allowed me to believe that. I sighed at the memory of my not-so-supportive father. He’d suddenly appeared and then left again a month or so after my mum died. I haven’t seen him since, and don’t exactly want to, but I wouldn't be surprised if one day he just showed up out of nowhere.
It was already dark outside, the clouds covering everything in the sky besides the full moon, which was shining down with a bright yellow-white light. Bats fluttered across the sky, squeaking at each other. I remember playing with my older brother, Nik, on nights like this. It was disappointing to know that he lived in Ireland, too far for my own comfort.
The magic happens when you just let the world warp around the story, oh yes.
