Hey Sophia bear.
I know you have work, but we're going to hang out after.
I have a class at five, but once that's done I'm all yours.

I smiled as I read the text; I swear to God that I read it more than twenty times over. Even in a depressing, infuriating world there was one person who could make me smile, especially when I didn't want to. That was Marcus. He was your stereotypical boy-next-door kind of guy, particularly to me. He lived just down the road from me since before I could remember being without him, and as little kids we were stuck together like a kid's tongue to a cold pole in the winter time: it was painful, and quite uncomfortable, but I got used to it eventually (even if I still didn't like it). I honestly couldn't stand him as a kid; I was always the tough one, and he got picked on by his classmates. I had to stand up for him so much it was painful to me.

I checked the time on my phone: 12:38. I figured that the annoying prick would be still sleeping, so I wondered to myself if I could just sneak out. I smiled slyly at the thought, and reached my arm up to open the door. I peered outside slightly and saw that he was indeed still asleep; there was my opportunity to escape. Maybe if I escaped his grip on me would cease; the idea brought a joy to my heart that I thought I had lost when he showed up at my door.

With that, I tip-toed out of my room and to my closet, being careful to open it slowly, quietly, so Isaiah didn't wake from the noise. I bit my lip in hopes that he wouldn't, as my closet door was always a little squeaky. I somehow managed to open it, however, and grab a white draped tank top. I quickly dropped the sweater I had been wearing and slipped the other over myself, also grabbed a looser black top to go overtop. Wasn't much to it, really, but the next difficult thing was closing the closet door. It almost felt like a stealthy ninja mission; I never thought I'd hate having to be a ninja. The doors squawked at me and I cursed at it each time, hoping that if I was angry enough the doors would be scared and become silent. My hopes failed, but I succeeded in closing the door without so much as a shuffling noise from Isaiah. I sighed of relief, almost falling against the door.

I just grabbed a pair of jeans from my floor and slipped them on over my panties, and I felt like I could leave right then and there. I didn't care about my appearance nearly as much as I cared about getting out of my apartment, which had been taken over by a complete jackass.

I pulled my hair into a messy bun and grabbed my cell phone quickly, and rushed myself over to the door. Luckily for me, my wallet was in the black purse that sat right by the door, so I didn't have to go search my house for it, leaving more time for Isaiah to wake up with me still in the house. I just grabbed the nearest pair of heeled boots and slipped into them with much haste, and I quickly grabbed onto the handles of the purse as I opened my door. I waddled out and closed the door behind me softly, and paused. I listened for any movements on Isaiah's part, but I heard nothing. The first good thing in eight hours, and I heaved a great sigh at it. As soon as my sigh ended, I heard the faint rustling of sheets from behind my door. With the sudden noise I ran, my heels clicking against the ground; I knew perfectly well that if Isaiah hadn't known I had left before, he would have known after my heels filled the hallways with noise like a beating drum. Perfect.






I didn't stop running until I was out of the building entirely and halfway down the street; I didn't want to risk Isaiah walking out onto the balcony and calling to me. I didn't want to see him; I didn't want to talk to him. I just wanted to get away. Marcus had given me the perfect opportunity, and I was scrounging it with urgency and alacrity.

I finally stopped down the road, my chest heaving in and out ferociously.