Simply Tragic

Chapter 3: Nuisance and nuances

Nuisance and nuances.

Acrimony, a malignant tumor.

***

Lexie's bedroom door resounded, she plopped on her carpet ignoring her mother's apologetic calls. Were it their old, crack-sculptured cemented home, she swore it would have crumbled to its desolation.

True to testaments, families had lost homes from these aforementioned dilapidated conditions. For ages they'd lamented without action from relevant authorities. It was in public domain that unlicensed contractors made haste money from poor projects and government did little to nothing to bar them. These gluttonous pigs had the East plagued with degenerative lifestyles and despite shifting from the slums she'd resided in at the heart of Kronos, Kayla sulked for those she'd left behind. She was nearly convinced church mice sheltered better than some of the populous there.

Marshpal was crippled, limping through one financial crisis into economic instability while justice stayed warped with bribery blinding the eyes of most. Corruption, menace to an already struggling third world nation reigned by ravenous wolves for the gullible. The clergy had fasted in the beginning, calling them out, sensitizing the masses. Well, that's until three quarters of them got substantive paychecks for flattering its sheepfold with falsehoods.

It was no absurdity how they were reelected despite publics bewrays.

Thusly, a huge disparity had awakened.

***

Lexie couldn't quite get the hang of it. Famished from an exhausting day, she picked herself up and dashed to bed, sliding between her sheets. Today, she broke routine, she hadn't showered, eaten or flossed. Looking back, the week had been rough, she remembered her horrid day and her head ached the more.

She wasn't one to hate but it was rather hard not to dislike those who'd made it their business to damn her life. Unsettling, she wished the holidays hadn't ended too quickly. It had been three years in Grinstate, tolerating pampered rich kids who still ran smack of the lower class, her people.

She puckered her lips wistfully trying with all her might to deafen the vengeful growl of her stomach but it didn't subside. She'd have rushed downstairs to grab something but revolted the idea of running into her mother. She lay there embroiled about the trio, they'd stolen her geometrical set during mathematics. She hadn't brought herself to tell her mother she'd been in trouble with Mrs. Wertson.

"Thank God tomorrow is Friday,'' she sighed glancing at the tiny alarm clock which sat by her bedside. Midnight, she gasped flicking off her lights. There was shuffling of feet down the stairs and later, voices that faded as she drifted into slumber, eyelids clasping from their heaviness.

***

Kayla, however guilty, was convinced she'd remedy the fouled atmosphere and cut the tension between them. No sooner had she reached halfway up the squeaky wooden staircase than a lidden was heard outside her door. Her heart jumped to her throat hesitantly acknowledging it when it replayed.

Perplexed, she stopped, troubled by the queer visitor dropping by at such odd hours. She pleaded her delusional thoughts away just as the quiet vicinity got disrupted by a louder knock, fear jolted through her.

She could have screamed had it not been for her steadying heart which ironically, nudged her to answer the door. She changed her course and made a beeline for the latch, if only, to confirm her fears. Slowly, she opened the door holding her breath as her panic-stricken eyes met the stranger's. Oh dear! She mouthed staring at the rugged individual before her, he fidgeted.

"Hi, may I help you?" She inquired politely from the youthful guy with unkempt hair. His face was drenched in sweat and he was still panting beneath his shabby light clothing. He could've easily passed for an urchin, she thought. He shuddered as the cold wind brushed against his uncovered chest. "Uh, how may I help you?" She reiterated. His glassy eyes to hers–pitiable, she watched him intently against the moonlight from where she stood on her front porch.

His trembling lips finally moved, "For you, miss, I? Sorry...late, so late." He said, struggling to express himself in English but she held nothing against him, it wasn't Kayla's first language either. In fact, they'd know none of the foreign tongue had Great Britain not colonized their nation.

He mumbled more apologies for intruding in the wee hours of the night, his forgetfulness was from grinding through a late evening shift to fend for his siblings. "Please," he'd pleaded on, handing Kayla what seemed to her as mail right before bolting. Thunder rumbled from the heavens suggesting a possible downpour, she looked around to find the boy had vanished. The scene was eerie, something out of a horror clip, she quivered shutting the door behind her.

''That was bizarre, probably another complaint for Katherine from the Eastern enterprises on the escalated supply prices." She surmised bleakly.

***

A/N:

Thanks for reading. Sorry took a while to publish this chapter been somewhat busy hope you've enjoyed it :)