Chapter 4

• Chapter 4
• Risana
• "What the fuck!" A feminine not SK's voice cussed.
• I peered at the body I'd collided with, siren lids hooding hazel green eyes expanded as the vase slithered off my hands. We both fell onto the floor, my body on top of hers.
• She wrenched herself away from me, my face ashen with embarrassment. An exact case of 'leap before look'.
• "Why does she want to kill me?" She asked, bewildered.
• I cleared my throat, wiping my hands. "I'm sorry for the rude welcome. It's just that..." I trailed off.
• My lips stopped moving, tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I didn't know how to explain my ordeal without shuddering or stuttering.
• "Her ride was allegedly hijacked earlier by a kidnapper and she's been on the defensive ever since. She wasn't aware that anyone would be coming, that's why she acted the way she did. I apologize on her behalf," The SAO answered on my behalf.
• "It did happen," I said to him and turned to her. "I'm truly sorry. I promise, I'm not schizophrenic," I added.
• The astonishment on her face gave way to a polite smile. "I understand. Thank you, Mr Cole,"
• I was so stuck in my problems that I forgot to ask for his name.
• Damn you, Serial killer... Kidnapper.
• "Alright. Have a good night girls," He flashed us an encouraging smile and walked away.
• I said nothing to my new roommate while helping her get her bags into the common area. My stomach grumbled loudly about how empty it was as I heaved a frustrated sigh.
• When she stepped into the room, I turned on the lights, completely taking in her appearance. Then I noticed how low the neckline of her blouse was. Her shorts barely covered her buttocks.
• Father would never let me wear that. It was either baggy pants or long skirts. My shirts were basically oversized, leaving nothing to the imagination of the men around men.
• "Earth to you," She snapped her fingers at me.
• I ran my fingers through my hair which wasn't disheveled yet to my surprise, then massaged my neck a bit, chuckling. "You can take your things inside your room. I just got here myself,"
• "You're far too kind. What's your name?" She sat on one of the boxes, her legs widened in a manspread.
• "Risana Kiyana Darkwood,"
• Her thick dark brows knitted closely, an index finger tapping against her chin. "Risana? Kiyana? Those names don't sound familiar but I like them. What do they mean?"
• I raised my shoulders slightly, stunned for a second. Curiosity resided in her eyes and for the first time in twenty years, someone other than my family was sincerely eager to hear me speak.
• "Risana means sunshine, Kiyana means royal. I'm Jamaican. What's your name?" I asked, lowering my butt onto the grey velvet couch.
• She joined me on the couch and laid on her back, staring at the ceiling with her hands clasped comfortably on her stomach. "I'm Cyra Vargas from Mexico,"
• "Is this your first time here?"
• "No. I live in California with my brothers but travel to Mexico sometimes for vacation. What about you? Is it your first time here?"
• I swallowed hard, leaning against the headrest. "Yes, it is,"
• It wasn't a completely shameful response, but I felt bad that I was never allowed to leave Canterbury even though my father had the means to let me go on vacation to other countries.
• Dairen had, Kayla would be visiting my aunt in Alaska but this just had to be my first time.
• "Well, there's always a first time for everything," She stood up. "It was nice meeting you but I'm exhausted so it's goodnight..."
• I offered her a small smile. "Yeah, sleep tight."
• She retired to her room, the deep feeling of apprehension vanishing at the fact that someone else was here with me.
• I wasn't alone.
• ~~~~~
• Morning burst in quickly as though it had been waiting to be called upon. The gentle rays of sun bounced in through my window with hopes and promises.
• Wrapped up in the white towel that I found neatly folded in the empty closet, I wondered what I'd wear for my first day of school.
• I didn't know my whereabouts around the area, and I feared bumping into Mr Serial killer again. Ordering clothes from online stores wasn't an option because I wouldn't be getting my items immediately.
• What should I do?
• Knuckles rapped carefully against the door. My heart skipped a beat, an exhale following suit when I remembered that I wasn't alone and it wasn't him.
• I twisted the doorknob, Cyra waltzing in with a few clothes on her hands.
• "Good morning, roommate," She chirped, dropping the clothes on the bed.
• Reluctantly I shut the door and walked to her. "Good morning," I replied while running my gaze through her outfit.
• It was alarming how she was comfortably clad in a white transparent long sleeve shirt boldly revealing her black bra. My lips further pushed away from each other at the sight of the short skirt that stopped at her mid thigh.
• "Ummm, we're heading to class, Cyra, not a club," I tried to sound as diplomatic as I could.
• "I know, girl, that's why I'm dressed like this," She motioned at the dresses on the bed. "Come on, take a look at what I've brought for you. We can go shopping for clothes after class,"
• "How did you know I needed clothes?" I stared at the clothes.
• Her lips pulled in disbelief. "I figured it out. You were kidnapped,"
• "Okay," I replied, picking up the first mesh dress and dropping it instantly. It looked like a mosquito net sewn into a tart's outfit. I wouldn't be caught dead in that.
• The second one was better, but a huge portion of my breasts would be spilling out if I managed to put it on, asides the length that would expose my thighs as well.
• "I can't wear this one too," I dropped the second one.
• "But they are good," She argued. "Alright, check the last one. It's either you wear that or you attend classes naked,"
• I blew out air, picking up the last outfit. Fortunately, it was a strapless crop top and a pair of distressed jeans with rips at the knee and mid thigh. "This is... manageable,"
• "Good. Take your time while dressing up. Being fashionably late isn't a crime, it's a statement, a brand that we'll be building for ourselves in this prestigious college," She rambled on and before I could give a response, she was already at the door.
• I tossed the jeans on the bed and crashed onto it, glaring at nothing.
• Maybe I had to rethink my conclusion of finding a sister in her because we were so different and I couldn't let her influence me.
• One error and I'd be back to the cold streets of Canterbury if Father discovered I dressed like a harlot.
• So I came to the conclusion, I'd wear the clothes, but after class, I'd go shopping ALONE.
• A few hours later, the first lecture on Historical and doctrinal studies ended but it was as bland as an unseasoned omelet. I had nothing against my faith but studying such a course wasn't what I wanted.
• I was more passionate about the arts, cooking and probably making pastries, crochet and all. I didn't want to end up as a Sunday school teacher. Life could offer me much more than that.
• Those thoughts filled my head as I picked some clothes from a store and sat quietly with me on my journey to the dorm.
• The suite wasn't as quiet as I'd expected it to be when I returned. Instead it housed two other people beside Cyra who were conveniently seated on the sofa with black heart-shaped cushions trapped between their hands.
• My nose scrunched in displeasure as I swept my gaze from the boy with multiple piercings on both ears and a string of star-shaped tattoos running across the back of his right palm to the young girl who looked just like Cyra both in appearance and mannerisms.
• I hid my irritation behind a cool mask and waved at them.
• "Hi," They chorused, lifting their eyes from their phone to my direction.
• "Hi," I tried my best to sound nice, but it still sounded flat.
• I gave them no extra attention as I barged into Cyra's room. Her bed was covered with several outfits ranging from rocker chic to bikini sets, leather pants, cowl neck blouses and other slutty dresses.
• Stuck up in turning her bedroom into a fashion house, she was oblivious of my presence until I cleared my throat.
• She swung a gaze at me, a bright smile captivating her face. "Hey, girl. Where have you been?"
• "Out and about. Who are those people?" The question packed a punch, backed up by my annoyance.
• She cocked her head to the side, her eyes wandering in confusion until it clicked. "Oh, them?" She pointed at the living room. "They are new friends who will be accompanying us to a birthday party tonight," She replied eagerly, sizing up the gold necklace on her neck in front of the mirror.
• "Us?" My eyes dilated. "I'm not going to no party. What makes you think that I like to be in such a wild and noisy environment? We barely resumed,"
• She dropped the jewelry that she'd been checking out earlier and turned to me. "How old are you?"
• "Twenty. What has that got to do with anything?" I snapped.
• "Nothing. I wanted to know if you were ten but apparently you're old enough to choose your path. I wouldn't choose to live like a hermit if I were you." Her tone held a bit of condescension, opposing everything I knew.
• A scoff leaped out of my throat. How dare she speak to me like that when she had no idea of what I'd been through?
• "You won't look down on me because you're more exposed." I snapped. "What's your business with my life anyway? Why do you think you can make decisions for me and get away with it? I don't like parties, neither do I need unnecessary guests. I need silence to remain sane so if you can't work with that, then I might have to change my suite. Thank you?" I marched out of her room, my breathing ragged as though I just finished a race.
• In the safety of my room, I let down my guard and crashed onto the floor. In this room, I wouldn't have to glance behind me whenever I walked.
• I wouldn't have to be so careful when booking a ride. My heart didn't skip each time I heard a sound and that was because of Cyra.
• My outburst earlier was uncalled for. I'd transferred the frustration of studying what I hated to her when I knew that she was only looking out for me.
• As if on cue, her shrill voice resonated behind my door. "Let me in, Ris,"
• I did so and when she came in, I noticed the puffiness of her face.
• Guilt punched my gut as I studied her. "Have you been crying?"
• She inclined her head and sniffed. "I'm sorry for how I spoke to you. Ris, I like you a lot and I don't want you to change rooms. I promise I won't overstep my boundaries anymore,"
• Seeing someone who truly cared about me puffy-faced all because I couldn't control my temper ignited a great level of guilt within me.
• "You didn't overstep anything. I was just angry at the wrong person. I'm also sorry for how I spoke to you,"
• Her face lit up instantly. "You're not?"
• "No. I just..." I hadn't properly celebrated my freedom. "Take me to the party."