Mike's POV
The girl, Emily or Ella or something beginning with an E, is crazy. It’s the only explanation. What little girl steals a car? Now she's skipping down the drive way like she hasn't a care in the world. Maybe she hasn't. But I do. Every time she skips the cuffs dig deeper into my flesh. I wince at the pain.
The flower tucked behind her ear is going to get her in trouble. My friend’s wife is very possessive about her garden. The garden is pretty though. The flowers are a vibrant colour that never seems to wilt. The bushes that line the edge of the property make everything seem cosy, not crowded. They also have the effect of tinted windows. You can see out, but no one can see in.
The house itself is white with black crisscross pattern that indicate it’s old. I have no idea what period since my historical knowledge isn't exactly amazing. All the windows have window boxes over flowing with flowers and a small amount of ivy curls around the bottom of the house. It’s a house that belongs in a book of fairy tales.
The little girl asks, "Who lives in that house?" She points to the house next door. I can see why she asked. The house looks out of place on this cheerful lane.
It’s not pretty or welcoming. Unlike the house we are standing in front of now. It’s boring, dull orange brick is ordinary enough and the door has peeling green paint. The curtains are drawn so you cannot see inside. The roof has just been fixed and seems a lighter colour than the rest of the house. The garden however fits in with the rest of the street despite the lack of care given to it.
"That's where I live." I answer without emotion. I only moved there because it was close to my friend’s house. It’s literally just next door so I can visit anytime. My family don’t live around here and for that I’m thankful. The girl seems to ignore my answer to her question.
I both knock the door and ring the bell. Then a few seconds later a lady with brown hair and green eyes opens the door. She’s wearing a pink shirt and flowery shorts. She has a humongous purple flower attached to her hair. I gather that it’s probably her hair clip. She always seems to wear the biggest, brightest hair accessories she can get her hands on. She takes in me, the girl and the handcuffs. She crosses her arms across her chest. "Please don't tell me you kidnaped a little girl." She pleads.
The girl giggles. Emma, that’s her name. "NO!" I shout. "Most defiantly not." I convince. What goes on in this woman’s mind is incomprehensible to me. Why would I kidnap a little girl? I might not exactly be the nicest person in the world but I’m not a kidnapper! What did she take me for? I leave the hurt expression on my face.
She ignores me and bends down to the little girl and asks what happened. She says haltingly. "Well... It’s a long story, but was fun when we borrowed therapist’s car!" She smirks a little. Showing me she knows exactly what she did. I wince as I wait for the scolding I’m about to receive. I don’t have to wait long.
The woman scowled at me, "You stole a car?"
"It was her idea." I point at the girl.
"Whatever. I can't believe you stole a car."
The girl gave me a smug grin as we were dragged into the house. I scowled back at her. She's too smart for her own damn good. And I can’t believe that the girl didn’t get a telling off for stealing a flower from the garden. I scowl like a spoilt child who was just told no.
We sat at the kitchen table. "Hi, I'm Lauren who are you" The Lady asks the little girl.
"I'm Emma." She replies. "Can you get the handcuffs off?"
Lauren smiles. "Guess it must be irritating being chained to that idiot." She muses. It’s not really a secret I don't get along with Lauren. We do however keep things civil in front of other people, mostly.
The girl gives an impatient sigh and looks around the room. Her eyes rest on a knife lying on the kitchen side. Oh damn. What is going on in that deranged mind of hers? I look warily at the girl. She must have been dropped as a baby. It’s the only conclusion. Suddenly she jumps off her seat and runs away. I'm caught off guard and land on the floor, face first. Stupid handcuffs. Would it kill her to stop dragging me around? I mean seriously.
She looks down at me and attempts to drag me across the floor. She gives my side a little kick, "Come on! Get up!" She whines. She reaches across and grabs the knife. I crawl away from her, not wasting time by trying to get up. I silently pray to God, whom by the way I have little to no belief in. But I’m willing to take all the help I can get. She rolls her eyes and begins hacking at the chain.
Only then do I notice Lauren giggling uncontrollably. I scowl at her. What is she laughing at? Then her husband, otherwise known as my best friend walks in. I knew there was a reason I hung out with this irritating woman. If she wasn't my best friend’s wife I would be far away from here. Like, Australia far.
My best friend, John, surveys the room. His eyes widen and I'm confused. He hasn't even glanced at Lauren, and trust me that’s strange. Most of the time he's all over her, it's disgusting. I look around for the cause of his concern only to realise the problem is attached to my wrist. Where the girl is still hacking at the cuffs. With a knife.
Wow this looks bad.
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All I Ever Wanted
General FictionEmma's life was never perfect. She never had the nice house, white picket fence and a beautiful labrador puppy. She never wanted any of that anyway. All she ever wanted was loving parents for her and her sister. She's come to terms with the fact tha...
