Chapter 1: Yulia
July 2003
Blinding lights dance in every corner of the overflowing room, the rainbow spots washing over the dull, painting-filled walls whilst the pop music brightens the mood for everyone but me. A sea of clammy, grinding bodies crashes before my eyes, like turbulent waves in a thunderstorm, touching each other and dancing as the sounds of hearty, genuine laughter fills the blaring territory.
Safe from Harm by Narcotic Thrust resonates through the excitement of the people, speakers vibrating as the teen DJ plays the song on full blast. Bulky bikers claim the snooker table whilst drunken couples kiss their way to the stairs, adding onto the scene of absolute chaos.
Despite being raised in a dramatic environment where every individual was weird in their own way, I still found myself being outcasted by almost everyone I crossed paths with.
My throat aches for a chilled drink, hoarse and dry like the Sahara desert itself due to my desperation to set off as soon as the sun set. But here I am, standing in the old doorway, arguing with myself whether I should go in or not all because my social anxiety doesn’t approve of the extroverted crowd I’d have to squeeze through somehow.
The sun is already dipping down into the horizon, casting aesthetic shades of honey gold and berry red across the cloudless sky as the day comes to an end.
July means possible heatwaves in the month and this year, it is definitely the worst we’ve faced in five years. Half naked people stroll the dimming streets even though it’s half eight, fanning themselves as they wipe the droplets of sweat raining down their slick bodies. However, here I stand in a ridiculous white dress that cuts beneath my knees with a cap hanging low to cover my face. A very stupid choice of clothes but it’s better to remain unknown than to meet someone I know.
At this very moment, I feel as though I'm about to pass out from depletion; I haven't eaten all day except for an apple and my clothes are definitely not suitable for this weather. And my feet protest against the leather boots I chose for this mission, the heat making it almost unbearable for me to move any further.
I should’ve chosen sandals at the least.
I'm not the typical pretty teen you’d see walking with a group of more pretty girls, listening to popular boy bands and going to clubs seven days a week to hook up with cute guys, quite the opposite actually.
My hair is the gloomiest shade of brunette, something that matches my personality and I've got hideous little marks all over my sickeningly pale face, branding me like an object. Unsurprisingly, I’ve always been told that I look unwell and to get checked up. Turns out anxiety and depression does a lot to people especially at a young age.
My features aren’t the best either. A crooked nose, round face, a gap between my two front teeth, small lips, thick brows and untameable, bushy hair that leaves every hair comb in ruins. As for my body itself… I’ve been told enough times that it’s ugly. I’m not slim like every other girl.
Nope, instead I have broad shoulders, wide hips, a thick waist and a goddamn, chunky belly pouch that doesn’t seem to shrink no matter how long I’ve been starved for or how much I exercise. I see myself as fat but there’s a handful who tell me I’m overthinking.
And whilst other girls are stunningly tall in height, I’m a short stack though I can proudly admit I’ve met people shorter than five foot and two inches. My eyes are my only favourite feature being a beautiful brown that appears nearly red with dark eyelashes that cast lengthy shadows on my pale cheeks. Though beautiful, it contrasts sharply with my heavily disliked features.
A small black cloth conceals my face from the public just in case I come across someone who knows me and ruins my well-thought-of plan. I know my very presence is disturbing based off the concerning glances being thrown my way before and even now. It’s not everyday you see someone dressed differently to the entire town.
I'm currently melting in this merciless furnace, my body begging for leniency as I stand outside, thinking of what would be the best thing to do. Even though I despise crowded places and communication, my thirst wins this round and I have no choice but to comply with its needs.
Taking a few deep breaths and steeling my nerves, I take a cautious step inside the humid club. The rank stench of cheap alcohol and perfume filling my nostrils through the thin cloth makes my head spin the more I unwillingly inhale it as I make my way to the bar at the front with great hardship.
As an introvert, my first instincts would be to find a more secluded area within this hellhole as soon as those curious pairs of eyes landed on me. And as much as I longed to do such a thing, I knew I’d be at a higher risk of being approached and possibly even kidnapped which I cannot afford to do on such a significant day.
Approaching the stupidly high barstool like I would an injured animal, I carefully sit on the cool seat, watching as my dwarf sized legs dangle down without touching the ground so I try getting as comfortable as possible.
I turn to see a ginger haired boy, around 20 perhaps, with a boyish smile and a charismatic aura that speaks volumes and gives me the impression of naïveté. He wipes the counter down smoothly before sliding the cloth onto the side and resting his elbow on the hard wood, his chin on his palm as he talks flirtatiously.
"Hey sweet, what can I get ya?" I cock a questioning brow at him, unimpressed, the word 'sweet' definitely does not fit well with me and now was certainly not the time to flirt with a customer.
Chuckling in response to my baffled expression, he moves an inch closer and whispers, “You not the flirty type?” I shake my head simply and he grins widely, showing off a set of dull white teeth before gesturing me to speak.
"Do you serve anything other than alcohol and beer?" Since I’m extremely inexperienced, having never gone to an inn or club, I’m unsure of whether I’m making a mistake or not. Part of me wants to sprint out of here and never show my face again but another part of me forces me to stay put and indulge in the unfamiliar affair. A rare part demands I obey my intrusive thoughts and see what trouble I could cause.
Honestly, I feel like a kid being here and asking for anything but intoxicants like, people my age are out and about, getting pregnant or using drugs or even getting involved with the police and authorities and here I am, asking for something other than the typical British preferences.
"Yes we do. I'm guessing you want a fizzy or water?" he half guesses and I nod. He seems like he knows what kind of person I am, reading me like a book and suddenly, I feel vulnerable and exposed. "Let me guess, you've never been to a place like this either?" I nod again.
Damn! How could someone ever know that? Well, I am pretty dumb.
"Could I just have a fizzy drink?" A hearty chuckle pours from his lips and he throws a cloth over his shoulder. “You got one in mind?” "Monster," I reply and he disappears just to come back a few seconds later with a can and a glass with ice. Emptying the can into the intricately designed glass, he adds a straw and shoves it gently towards me.
“Enjoy,” he purrs with a school-boyish wink and I fight the urge to blatantly roll my eyes at him to show my disinterest in immature guy’s wooing tactics. I lower the cloth from my face and take the straw between my cracked lips, taking a drastic draught and relaxing as the drink takes its immediate effect, replacing the lingering stress with calmness and a slither of fatigue and my movements become slightly languid.
Feeling much better thanks to the cold drink, the world around me stops spinning whilst the chill alleviates my body heat to the norm. Little by little, I practically inhale the drink and exhale a sigh of relief, satisfied with the icy beverage that I very much needed and allow the expectant redhead to make small talk with me.
"You don't like crowds." It's not a question but a statement which is annoyingly accurate and makes me tense, expecting an unforeseen attack that I know will never arrive. “And you look like a kid." That makes me laugh but there's no humour detected in the harsh sound.
"People tell me I look older than my age," I murmur, more to myself than him and in a way that makes me feel sorry for myself. Staring at me like I've grown two heads, he interrupts, his tone incredulous. "Liar. You look underage. And you've never been to a club, eh? Who hasn't?"
"Me. And I'm 19 so no, I'm not underage." I didn't mean to sound so harsh and I instantly regret my unnecessary tone when I see him flinch like I’ve struck him physically. "You don't look like the type to be in these kind of places? So what brings you here?" he asks merely out of interest.
"You're right. This is the last place I'd come to on earth because I hate crowds as well as people. But I'm moving out of my foster parent's house because I don't get along with them. And I just came here to get a drink. I'm leaving the city because I'm gonna start a new life without them ruining the rest of it for me," I respond bluntly, unable to mask the pure hatred I hold for them.
I really thought those bastards were my parents? How could I ever be so stupid? My real parents would've loved me.
I order another drink but I take the can and shove it in my bag before paying for the drinks. "Cheers for the drinks."
Dismounting the metal stool, I travel through the endless maze of bodies in search of the door to freedom and struggle against wandering hands belonging to the perved men undressing me with their eyes.
Straining in the confined space of dangers, I thank the Gods above when I spot the glorious exit from afar and scurry towards it, wasting no time to jump over the line that separates me from that foul smelling prison and the outside world to take my first breath of fresh air.
The sun has successfully dipped during the time I spent in the cheap club, leaving behind trails of purple, pink and blue with a hint of orangey-yellow at the bottom of the sky. Night is closing in on the day and I can’t wait for my chance to see the stars; it’s been so goddamn long since I’ve been outside. I’m not taking this moment for granted, that’s for sure. I’m going to enjoy being outside and appreciate this freedom because why shouldn’t I?
Being trapped in a house for months has made me regret not spending enough time reconnecting with nature when I had the chance. And this time I won’t let that opportunity slip away.
Continuing my steady pace as I insert my earphones in, I admire the tranquil scenery besieging me. The late hour rush before the town’s sleep time is always a mix of distress and fulfilment; bad and good things happen. It’s always unprecedented.
Right now, I’ve made it past step one. This was the easiest step of all and I still have three more easy steps to overcome before the real challenge of my expedition takes place. That will determine whether I’m strong enough to go through more just to reach my goals for life or if I truly am the disappointment I’m seen as.
Every second is a risk, a chance to get caught.
But every adventure starts off with a risk.
