Spoiler! :
Addicted to a Shadow
Chapter One: Lila
I’ve replayed this day over in my head a thousand times. I can’t forget it, not even one tiny little detail. I just can’t. Sometimes I think I want to and then maybe I would be free from the nightmares. I could just live a normal life. But normal’s doesn’t work for me. Not anymore.
There was nothing about the clouded sky outside that morning that suggested today would be any different from the others. My alarm clock went off at the usual time, waking me from my sleep. I groaned loudly and tried to pull the covers up over my head, hoping to drown out the sound. The noise grew louder, penetrating through my head. Reluctantly, I threw the duvet onto the floor and rolled out of bed, fumbling for my glasses on the bedside table. Soon enough, I had pulled on my clothes, twisted my blonde hair into a loose bun and hurried down the stairs.
The kitchen was empty as I had predicted. Milo must have already headed out. I wasn’t sure if he was working today; his shifts changed so frequently that I found it hard to keep up. Not knowing where my soon to be husband was during day was quite a common occurrence for me. I supposed it would bug most women, but I hadn’t come across any reason not to trust him. Not yet anyway.
Grabbing a cereal bar from the cupboard I swung my bag over my shoulder and headed out of the front door. The icy air whipped around my face and I buried it in my scarf, crunching along the frosted pavement. I was thankful that the forecast had been wrong; last night, there had been reports of a flurry of snow in the early morning, rendering public transport useless. Yet there was no sign of it yet, and although the cool November air wasn’t very inviting, I made my way easily to the train station and sat down in my usual seat.
I looked around and spotted the clock which read a quarter to seven. Surprised to find I was early, I opened my bag and withdrew the book I had been reading last night.
The fog was dense, like a blanket suffocating me. It muffled the sound as if I were in a dream, rubbing up its arched back against the windows and licking into the corners of the darkness. It lingered delicately over the houses on the street, hunting on the fear of the few people ridiculous enough to be out at this hour. Using my hands to navigate along the wall I advanced timidly into the night. I knew where I was going, I just didn’t want to run into anyone I knew and the fog made it a whole lot harder to avoid people easily. Although, I mused, it did provide a good amount of disguise.
I sighed heavily, absorbing the words hungrily, as though I could never get enough. Many a night, I would lie awake wishing I could write like this, wanting to capture the hearts of readers all over the world. But even if I could, Milo would not have allowed it.
“Writing books are just for those who live boring lives,” he had said. “You don’t want to waste your life of it Lil, find yourself a proper job.”
And so I had, as a journalist for a small county paper, working every day from eight until five like most other people. I had thrown myself into it straight away, hoping that this would be the writing my brain craved so much. But it was long and tedious work. Very rarely did our little community have anything interesting that was worth reporting and I seemed to spend most of my time organising files and fetching coffee for everyone else. Physically, my job was tiring but my imagination never quite got the exercise it needed.
Yet when I returned home in the evening, there would be countless distractions waiting for me. Without the time to write down my ideas, my characters always took a back seat in my head, fading gradually from my memory like ghosts in the sunlight.
I was often told I was lucky. I had everything a young woman could possibly dream of; a pretty little flat in a nice part of town, a secure job and a handsome fiancée. And in most ways I agreed. My life was at an all time high, and I didn’t think I could be much happier. But every life is full of secrets, deceit and lies. When you reach the top, the only way to go is back down again.
At ten past, I replaced the book in my bag, took a swig of water and stood up. Humming quietly, I made my way to platform. Once there I scanned the monitor quickly for my train. It was always five minutes late and today was no different. Each day was the same.
As soon as I sat down I was joined by Julian, a young blonde man in black trousers and a massive hooded jumper. I had never seen him in anything different; he seemed to have about twelve of these jumpers in a different colour, but all the same style.
“Morning Lila,” he smiled shyly, sitting down next to me. “How are you?”
“I'm fine Julian,” I replied. It was always the same answer, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Yourself?”
He shrugged. “I guess so. Terri came over to get her things last night and I'm a bit worn out.”
I hesitated slightly before patting him on the shoulder. He and Terri had been together ever since high school, or so he had said. Married for two years, it appeared that everything was going great. That just went to show how much I knew. Julian wouldn’t explain what had gone wrong, and I didn’t push him. After all, I only spoke to him for twenty minutes each morning on the way into the city; I barely knew the man.
“I know you’ll find someone better,” I tried to reassure him, hoping the words I was speaking sounded true. “It’ll be just fine.”
“Can I ask you something?”
I smiled. “I’m pretty sure you just did. But yes, you may.”
“Do you believe that there is someone out there for everyone?”
“Like soul mates?”
“Yes.”
I considered this for a moment before answering. “No.” Truth be told, I had never thought about it before but I was worried he’d think Terri was his. I didn’t want to be the cause of someone’s bad mood today.
This had apparently been the right answer. His eager little face lit up and for the first time the smile reached his eyes. I returned his look, it was impossible not to be infected by it.
“Really?”
“Really, really.”
The rest of the train ride was fairly menial. Julian and I exchanged basic conversation; he asked me how Milo was and I in turn wondered what he was going to do with his life now that he had a fresh start. He told me of his plans to focus on his job and I nodded politely. It was a quick journey and before I knew it the voice overhead had announced my stop.
I stood up, said a quick goodbye to Julian and walked purposefully out onto the platform. In the brief period I had spent on the train it seemed to have grown even colder. The sky was an ominous grey and I hoped feverishly that the snow would hold off at least until I got inside.
The walk to the newspaper wasn’t far; I could make it in ten minutes on a good day. Reluctantly, I decided against a hot drink from the café and instead strode towards the office.
Thursdays were never very busy days anyway, but today seemed to drag on forever. I spent the morning organising hundreds of files and the afternoon sat at my desk, proof reading the mind numbing stories that had been printed today. Milo didn’t call all day. I debated sending him a message, but there wasn’t really much point. I would see him at home later anyway.
***
I settled myself down on the sofa with a steaming mug of tea and grabbed a handful of biscuits. Forgetting my diet, I ate one after another until they had all gone.
Darkness was falling fast now, and I crossed over to the window. By the light of the lamppost outside I cloud see thick, swirling flakes beginning to descend to the ground. Thankful that I at least had made it home before now, I began to wonder where Milo was. He was normally home waiting for me and hadn’t sent me a message to let me know otherwise. Odd.
Just then there came a knock on the front door. Assuming Milo had forgotten his key; I drew the curtains with a sigh and headed to open it. If I had known then just who stood on the other side of the wooden barrier I'm not too sure I would have answered it.
Yet I did, and it swung open, letting in all the cold air. A dark haired man stood outside, his breath coming in short gasps that I put down to the temperature. He wasn’t wearing a helmet, but there was no doubt about it; he was a policeman.
He got straight to the point; speaking in a low rumbling voice. “Are you Miss Lila Drinkwater?”
I frowned, longing for the day to finally dawn when I would no longer have to answer to that ridiculous name.
“Yes.”
“I think I better come in,” he told me. “You’ll need to sit down.”
At least you found a way to get me to read on!
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