No One's Business

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

so this is my entry for Love Can Make You Or Break You's challenge. IT IS THE ROUGH COPY. if i have time before the deadline (which i may not) then i will probably add more detail, content, etc.

Layla awoke one night crying. Perhaps it was an omen. Perhaps a sign from a higher power, warning her to run and skip town. And she would have run. Oh how she would have run, if she had known what was coming.
Outside black clouds were filing in, smothering the sky and covering the moon, plunging the small town into complete darkness. A storm was on the horizen. Layla’s mother had always told her that she could sense a storm before it arrived. Too bad her mother was missing.
Two weeks ago Layla’s mother had left to buy a pack of cigerettes from a nearby convience store. Although people told Layla something must have stopped her from returning Layla knew what they were thinking. They all thought Layla’s mother was crazy, that the recent loss of her husband destroyed her ability to think straight. That she had ran. But Layla didn’t blame them. More than once had she awaken to the sound of her mother’s screams. ‘He’s watching us’ she would whisper to Layla over dinner, as if a raised voice would bring forth her personal devil once again.
On the night before her mother went missing, they had been watching the sunset. The fiery red ball of consistency slowly dipped below the shilleotted trees. With inches left to go in its desent her mother had turned to her. Her eyes were filled with a childish fear, like a little girl trying to sleep, after hearing a story about the boogyman. “You’ll protect me, right honey? You wont let him get me.” Layla told her that of course she would protect her.
That had been her dream. A blurry replay of the night before the end of life as she knew it.
“And I didn’t protect her.” Layla whispered to herself, her voice sounding rough, breaking through the velvety silence of the night. Whether it had been protecting her from herself or from some real threat Layla had failed. A real threat. Suddenly she felt the eyes of an unknown predator pierce the soft skin on the back of her neck. She whipped around ready to scream. No one was there. She gave a shaky laugh. Don’t be stupid, she chided herself silently. Quickly she checked to make sure her window was locked. She gathered the blankets around her skinny, pale body, feeling more vunerable then ever before. And more then anything, she missed her parents.
Her father had been the nicest man anyone would ever meet. The man that would pull over to the side of the road and help someone restart their car, even when he was running late for an appointment. She had seen him do it multiple times before. And he would never do it again. She remembered the night she got the news. Her mom had been working late and Layla had decided to prepare dinner. She had been cutting green pepper when the door bell rang. Startled she had accidentally cut her finger. Sucking up it tenderly she opened the door only to find the police. They told her she needed to go to the morge and identify a body, because they couldn’t reach her mother. In that cold, sterile room she looked upon the body of her father. They really should have waited for her mother, but apparently in their books, eighteen was an age when it was ok to look upon the mangled remains of a loved one. And how the body was mangled. Layla had thrown up. She later found out her father had fallen off a cliff. She wasn’t given anymore information, she was told it was none of her business. No one ever even figured out if it was acidental, suicidal or murder. After a year everyone stopped caring. Besides her and her mother.
Twisted around in her blankets Layla focused on relaxing her body, until she fell asleep.
Layla woke up that morning to the beeping of her alarm clock. It was 7:00 am. Slowly she dragged herself out of bed and over to her bathroom. Once she was there she lowered her eyes, like always. She hated her apperance. It wasn’t that she was ugly, it was that her face reminded her of her father’s. Same big, gray eyes and straight redish brown hair.
Instead of looking at the mirror Layla stood studying her paper-like arms. She knew she was underweight but lately, since her mother’s disappearance, she could hardly bring herself to eat. And she had always been pale. Some people even called her ‘deathly-pale’. Layla finished up in the bathroom then made her way over to her dresser, pulling out clothes for the day. A pale blue sweater and jeans.
Layla yanked the sweater on for, already, she felt the usual morning chill slide up her back. An icy, winter draft swirled around her legs, before she could get her jeans on. She froze but not from the cold. Hadn’t she locked her window the night before? She whipped around, and finding the room empty, she ran over to the window and shut it with a bang. Glancing over her shoulder every two seconds Layla finished her morning routine and rushed out the front door, making sure to lock it. It was her birthday.
Layla rode her bike to work, startled by the stillness of the town. It was like a ghost-town. Then Layla arrived. She worked at a store called ‘Horror at It’s Best’. Not the most promising name for the store, but it was the only job Layla could get on short notice. She needed to support herself and ‘hold the fort’ until her mother returned. If she returned. The bell above the door dinged loudly as Layla entered. Instantly she took her all to familiar postion behind the counter. Not that there had ever been a single costumer. Layla sighed and sat on the wobbly stool that sat near the door to the bathroom. The bathroom that had forever been out of order. She spent every day like this. Never having a co-worker, never even meeting her boss.
Then the bell above the door dinged.
Looking up in shock, Layla saw a man who seemed to be around the age of twenty-five. He had greasy blond hair and eyes that were so dark they were almost black.
“Hello sir welcome to…” Layla had never had to greet anyone before. She could barely rememeber the name of the store. “Horror at it’s Best. How may I help you?” The man just stared at Layla, his eyes raking her body. “Do you want something?” Layla asked, somewhat rudely, for she felt unprotected and naked to the man’s gaze.
The man smirked and spoke softly. “Yes.” Layla waited for him to add to his response. After several awkward seconds she realized her wasn’t going to add on to it. Suddenly he was in front of her, his face inches from hers. “You’re so pretty, you know? Especially when you sleep.” Layla backed up shakily, and grasped at her pocket for her cell phone. Images of her open window swirled before her eyes. The man continued forwards and grabbed her hand violently as she lifted her cell phone to her ear. He threw it to the ground and crushed it beneath his hiking boot. Still clinging to her hand the man leaned forwards and used his other hand to touch Layla’s face lightly. She reached up and angerly slapped his hand away from her face. The sound of the slap echoed around the room and the man’s face grew dark.
“That wasn’t very nice Layla.” the man growled, almost whining. Layla just stood there silently, trying not to show her growing fear. But the man continued to squeeze her hand, harder and harder until she could take it anymore and she cried out in pain. And he smiled. The man took something metallic out of his pocket, raised it above Layla’s head and suddenly everyting went dark.
Layla awoke, hands- handcuffed behind her back, in a small cell. The maan with the dark eyes stood on the outside of the cell and was sstaring at her as if she were some animal in a zoo.
“Hello Layla.” he said, voice echoing eerily off the cell walls. “Glad to see you have joined us.” Startled Layla took a closer look at the cell’s ‘walls’ only to discover they were more like room dividers. And that they had to have been at least five others girls present.
“how many?” she asked.
“What?”
“How many lives have you ruined?”
The man laughed. “None of your business.” With that he handed her a rose. A bloody rose.
“Happy birthday Layla.”
It was weeks later and Layla was almost dead. Mentally. Physically she was fine. The man, who she later found out was the owner of the store, fed all of them, kept them healthy. Late at night the man would come to her cell and whisper his “acheviements” to her. He had killed her father, her mother. That’s why no one knew she was missing. He had severed any connections she had had with anyone. As the days passed and the man’s threats and stories became more and more disturbing, her hope of rescue or escape faded and died. One day the man left to find a new target. He left Layla in charge of the store. She sat at that wobbly stool in front of the bathroom and remesised about the days before her life had gone to hell. She couldn’t even escape, not only had she been drugged to keep her docile, not only could she not bear abandon the others, she was chained to the stool. And a video camera winked down at her, watching her every move. What was the point?
Suddenly Layla caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. A shy looking girl with blondish, brownish hair was walking quickly down the street, hands rubbing her chilled arms. Layla moved her head, to the side slightly, trying to catch the girl’s eye. If she could only get a message to her somehow. The girl’s walk slowed as she returned Layla’s stare. Layla widened her eyes and tried to project her fear and the danger to the girl. She could get help. The girl took a tentative step towards the door.
I took a step towards the door. But I stopped myself. The girl at the counter, she could have been scared of anything. Hell, she could be afraid of getting a customer for once. I hesitated one more second but then moved on. Walked past the store and didn’t look back. It wasn’t any of my business anyways.


Submitted: March 21, 2009

© Copyright 2021 anonymousinthefirstdegree . All rights reserved.

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Comments

Love Can Make Or Break You

This was great! A very good story plot!

Tue, March 24th, 2009 5:40pm

Author
Reply

thanks!!
tell me when u post the results please, :)

Tue, March 24th, 2009 11:48am

catch22

wow what an amazing twist at the end of the story....i was hooked the whole time...it wa an excellent short story,i hope you turn it into something more....

--chuck

Wed, April 1st, 2009 12:10pm

Author
Reply

thanks :) im glad you liked it,
lol i doubt it will become more, but i am currently writing a novel... maybe ill post some chapters sometime

Wed, April 1st, 2009 5:44pm

S.C. Kross

Woah, didn't see the ending, whatsoever! Very good, I do hope you win! Again wow, it kept me engrossed the whole time. What's going to happen, omg. You know? haha. Thanks for sharing.

Wed, April 22nd, 2009 6:33am

Author
Reply

THANK YOU! the beginning is so detailed and the end is too fast but i think i ran out of time :P
thanks for commeneting :D

Wed, April 22nd, 2009 11:52am

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