Grim Or Grin

Chapter 3: Report

Chapter 3: Report

It was automatic. I got up at about 7 am when the dried up sweat and the now crusty blood on my right waist had gotten on my nerves. The sweat had long since evaporated and left a layer of sticky residue all over my skin. In some areas, the sweat had mingled with dead skin cells enough to form tiny, visible specks of black paste that clung to my skin disgustingly. My dress had a slit on the left side of the waist and blood had soaked the vicinity in crimson. I did not have to locate a mirror to know that I looked horrifying. I was sure that my hair was a messy mop of tangled almost-black deep brown hair and my makeup (which Pam had, nonetheless, forced upon me) was seriously affected by my sweat out the previous night.

With much urgency, I brisk walked to the bathroom. My parents were not in as per normal. They were elsewhere on business most of the time ever since I got into secondary school. Thankfully, it meant I seldom had to explain myself for such incidences but I had an older brother who would probe around for answers. I really did not feel like talking about it till I myself had assimilated that chase. It was unreal and the only reason I had not simply thought of it as a nightmare was thanks to my physical souvenir - the shallow knife wound.

I showered quickly, scrubbing at the makeup clinging to my skin and the sticky sweat residue all over me. I tenderly and carefully cleaned my cut and figuring that it did not need dressing, I changed into a more comfortable set of home clothes - a simple white shirt and a blue knee-length skirt. I threw my party outfit into a plastic bag I retrieved from the small cupboard under the sink (which was like my house's plastic bag bank).

I headed back to my room, threw the bag under my table and cleaned the bed sheet. Once I was satisfied, I sat on my bed and processed my thoughts. Yesterday, a person in black had chased me for some unknown reason. I was drunk and somehow managed to survive the attack. He could possibly be doing this to other people so I should probably report this to the police soon. It is a Saturday so I could probably go to the neighbourhood police station when my brother's at tuition in the afternoon. I will just drop a report and life goes back to normal just that I am not heading home after 10 pm via that route again.

I stared at my room for a bit. It was rather simple. It had baby pink walls with a wooden skirting and, what I considered, an elegant cornice. A few of my sketches dotted the walls as well. I had a window that faced the road separating my house from the private estates just opposite. My single bed was pushed against the wall opposite and my cupboard was built into the adjacent wall. Beside it, was my room's wooden door. The previous owner had chosen to use special locks which made the room doors difficult to pick using the traditional 2-metal pins method. I had a desk that sat against the wall opposite the cupboard. Atop it was a mound of textbooks and notes clustered in my own messy organization. I could still find everything I needed. It just looked...untidy.

My life was pretty plain and there was really no special reason to attack me. Ransom, perhaps? No. He had the pure intention to kill me. His aim was at my motor cortex, spine and kidney! For ransom you needed your hostage alive, right? That really crosses out a lot of possible reasons. As of yet, I could only think of two - he is mental or I just happened to look like his target. He had not killed me the last time so that means that if it is the second reason, I could get attack again. Not a nice thought. I should really exercise considering how I barely made it out alive previously. For safe measure, I should exercise on top of not staying out too late. Better safe than sorry, right?

"Lyla, how long do you intend to sit and stare into space?" my brother, Ian, asked. I jumped, startled by his sudden intrusion.

"I happen to like appreciating dust particles dance in the light, an art form you wouldn't appreciate," I replied sarcastically. "You should really stop to admire the little things."