The Destroying - Part 1

• A Stray in the city

The city slept. It was late and the moon was creasing the city with fingers of soft light. She could see. From deep in her blankets Inna could see. She looked out of the window, so close to sleep, but unable to make it through that final gate that came before sleep.

She looked about the room, even in the dark she was able to make out, able to sense, every detail. The instincts, the noticing, they tormented and rescued her most of her life. Acute intuition and instincts, trade marks of survivors and many of which had developed during the Chaos. Every corner of wood and shadow of fabric stood out in their detail, their own unique and tormenting identity tempted out her sharp senses and intuition whilst keeping her from the sublime bliss of sleep. 

She took another breath and closed her eyes. It didn’t work. Five minutes later her eyes had opened and she was looking out through the glass. A stray cat had perched on the fence a small distance from her building. It was glowing, it's white fur seemed to soak up the moonlight creating a white silhouette against the dark. Inna wished she was asleep.

Cats reminded her of Elissa, a gypsy girl she had met in her childhood. Inna had never before known anybody to have as sweet a temperament as Elissa. She did what she wanted, in the way a stray wayward kitty would, sweet and soft in her own right and in each of its own actions. Inna wondered how she was. Was she alive? Was she in the city? Was she driving herself insane on purpose! She rolled over, every inch of her awake, and, as if simply to prove it, she punched her mattress in frustration. The action seemed to do little and grew tiresome quickly. She sat up and hugged her knees.

She was in an old abandoned basement beneath a factory, one man lived in it but he was old and easy to avoid. In her pocket of the building it was pitch black but for the moonlight that could be seen from the window above the side of her bed, but fingers of light didn’t caress the room, the beams were visible from it but only residual light made it through the window plane.

She felt her head droop, and the side of it rested on her knees. She had done this to herself, from the moment she had run away her fate had been sealed, who was she to complain? She had done this to herself. She didn’t cry, things were better now anyway, better then they were at least. She was still a stray, still alone, but she was out of Russia and surviving, getting better and better, she even had a home! This place was good, safe and it suited her, hell, compared to what she had before it was a five star hotel, a free one.

She sighed and tried to stop thinking. She sat there for almost half an hour and barely a thought crossed her mind, then she took one last look out the window then lay down and hoped she would finally manage to sleep. What she hoped was a blanket of sleep seemed to creep over her but naturally it didn’t last. 

She woke she cried and out with exasperation. Pulling the covers to the side, she got out of the bed. Had she even slept? Was it just a doze? She groaned and left the room to walk into the street. The moment she stepped out she wondered if the night had been waiting for her. The air was cool and sweet, and seemed to draw away her frustration like poison from a wound. From the stars she guessed it was two thirty, she smiled, she should have come out earlier.

She walked through the streets, hoping for no trouble, but doubted it. She wasn’t unhappy, she liked the night, it was better then the day, being so cool, quiet and soft, it was simply the lurking danger and lack of people that made it second choice to the day. However looking around Inna saw it was peaceful compared to the day and it's loud confusion. She walked around making the most of her time, but also ready to drive a knife into her belly. She had been hungry for the last two days. 

She had been more unlucky then usual, and her stomach didn’t like it. But maybe tonight was her lucky night. She decided if she was out she had best put her time to use, she wanted that meal soon, so she went around the streets looking for fast food outlets and cafés. Eventually she came to a familiar fast food joint and went around the back to look in the bin. Opening it she went on tip tows to look inside. From the smell alone she knew she could celebrate. Food only a day old that could not be served, she almost squealed with glee, and thanked the elusive God. 

She reached in and pulled out all things decent she could reach. Two apple pies in boxes, five cheese burgers of different sorts, a pastry and two wraps. She took them out and whispered a silent pair of thanks then clutched them tightly and ran off to find somewhere she could eat.

She’d always been fussy about where she could eat. She never minded eating around people, but on her own or with just two she always had to find a descent spot. Tonight it became the fence where the cat still sat, staring at the moon.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked the moonlight fur-sponge. She pulled herself up and positioned her self next to it, “The moon has always seemed a mother figure to me, someone to look after you while you sleep, or a guardian angel if you will, though I think most people have that idea at one point or another.” But then she could no longer speak. By then she had taken out the burger and taken a bite and was so gloriously intoxicated with the food she could no longer bring herself to think about anything else. Food! Oh, how she had missed it. She chewed fast, it was heaven, she decided, pure eatable heaven.

She ate two burgers and an apple pie, after the first burger and a half she savoured every bite, slowing her intake so it lasted longer, though it was hard to make her self stop. To try to force herself to eat slow she started talking again to the animal besides her.

She decided it to be female, when she was young someone had told her, ‘Animals can hear every word we say, and usually understand them better then we do, that’s why they’re worth talking to, even if they can’t answer back.’ It was a notion that had grown into a habit and a habit she still had not grown out of. In truth it was just another thing she clung to, something to straighten her own sense of self and remind her of her own identity. 

She smiled at her temporary ear, “Where I come from you could see the moon and all the stars easily. Out in the country, have you ever been there? I suppose not, though I guess you could have come here with your old owners. No collar though, did they set you free, Little Miss? You should have seen my home. Great green stretches of grass and stone, we alway were lucky family, though, as I'm sure half the world could guess, we left to come here.”

The cat looked up at her with its glorious eyes Inna raised her eyebrows, wondering if the creature was expecting her to share her food. Not likely, this creature cold hunt birds and eat things from bins that she could never eat. 

“If you think your getting anything, you can think again,” she warned.

The creature looked away, as if disappointed and soon left, birds and mice taking its interest. Inna, calmed from her exploits and renewed after the distraction, went back inside her room.

However, once inside she didn’t immediately head back to her bed. She was bored, but still far to wakeful to try to attempt sleep again. She needed something to do, something useful or at least entertaining.

She pulled the string that hung from the ceiling and a dull gloomy light tainted the room grey. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, then she knelt down and pulled a box out from under her bed. Stacks of paper and small objects were piled inside, and a dull ache started in her chest. She reached in and pulled out the first bundle. Stories, short stories, the completed ones, some were written by her, but others were not. They were tied together from her childhood and hidden away for safe keeping. She picked one up and started to read.

I know it took a while but here is the carry on from the prior Blurb and Prologue, please read and I hope enjoy (though you may not) part 1 of the distroying. Comments again are sorely welcome.