CHAPTER 10 Freedom 

　　Abigail's POV

　　Running the key to my new home through my fingers, the cool metal soothing my nerves as I looked up at the 'luxury housing' complex I had just signed myself up for for the next six months of my immortal life. The advert read:

　　'Centrally located apartments in an up-and-coming area near local amenities. With immediate access to the area's natural beauty spots, this luxury accommodation is unbeatable for its breathtaking views of the surrounding forests. The location places residents among the area's best dining and shopping options, perfect for the modern person.'

　　Chewing the inside of my lip, I let out a soft chuckle letting my eyes roam the beautiful old brick walls covered in luscious shades of green moss. The beauty ending there! Windows sporting dirty nets and curtains that barely fit the frames and looked like they had never seen the inside of a washing machine. The gravelled path leading to the apartment was filled with potholes and scattered rubbish, adding to the apartment's 'charm.' Breathing in deeply, the smell of mould and what I could only imagine was urine filling my nose, it should have made me feel sick, but instead, a beautiful blanket of peace spread over my thin frame. A deep smile spread across my lips as I looked around at the place where I would rest my head of red waves, one excited thought going through my mind.

　　'No one will look for me here.' Looking over my shoulder at Damien, a celebratory smile on my face

　　"My mother would have a heart attack if she saw this place!" I chuckled. His slow nod and sarcastic comment told me he was mortified I was considering taking this place. This was happening; I was out of my mother's loving yet suffocating grasp and on the other side of the world. I pulled on my well-worn black case smiling as the back wheel seemed to sing along with my heart as we headed to the reception desk. I grew up with my mother's motto, ' Never trust anyone; safety first.' So as the ageing man approached with a fed-up look, I quickly remembered my mother's constant, strict training. The man looked like he enjoyed television and far too many microwave meals. No significant threat with his ice-white hair, almost transparent skin, and bored and lazy eyes. He was as interested in me as he was in the gym opening times.

　　"Abigail?" He barked, holding out the welcome pack for me. "You're on the top floor, room 7" His groan was almost audible as he eyed my bag and case with a wince, clearly wondering if I would ask him for help getting my other belongings to my new room. Tempted to say yes just to make him work off some of that frozen junk food, I would be doing him a favour, I changed my mind realising I did not want to give the poor guy a heart attack and have to move again.

　　"Damien here has offered to carry my case to the top floor, right?" Turning to face him with a cunning grin. "You were just telling me how you owed me, right?" I teased, enjoying having some power over him. "Plus, he is looking for a new place to live; what do you think we could be roomies!" I added before he could protest, struggling to keep the giggle from my voice.

　　"Red!" His tone was laced with authority, warning me not to push my luck. Ignoring the warning and biting on my lip to stop the smile on my lips from getting wider.

　　"Yeah, whatever. Enjoy," He mumbled, looking back at his office nervously.

　　"Thanks." I chirped, not letting his miserable mood get to me and my new opportunities. "I travel light," I added, watching as his eyes looked back at us and out into the carpark, expecting a moving van to pull in at any moment. These bags were all I had in the world; Bringing nothing else of importance, there wasn't a lot I felt the need to drag from place to place with me. Listening to his instructions that I was to pay the rent weekly and on time, or 'I would find my pretty ass out on the curb!' Why did people feel the need to curse all the time? It was unnecessary, I thought as he returned to his tv dinner.

　　I was on the top floor of the apartment, right at the back, with no working lift; the prospect of the stairs did not bother me; Damien, however, looked less than impressed. Mounting each step, slowly taking in my surroundings: The smells of those behind each door, the sounds of their voices, and how many people were in each apartment roughly, all human, I guessed. It was not exactly a five-star establishment, but I did not care; it was mine. I did not plan to spend much time here anyway; it was just somewhere to sleep, eat and shower. I was not looking to put down roots or start a life here. No, I was here to find information on my Father, to find the man who kept slipping through my fingers, and then move on with my life; I had 17 years of fun to make up for.

　　"You're not seriously thinking of staying here; surely Alice's is better than this shit hole," Damien grumbled, pulling my case up each step with a thud.

　　Spinning round to face him, hand on my hips, I couldn't help but laugh. "I am serious. As I said earlier, not everyone is made of money. This is the best I can do right now. But not to worry; I will invite you over when I can finally afford that penthouse suite."

　　I reached the top floor and searched for the apartment number on my keyring. Every nerve in my body felt excited, unsure if it was from Damien being so close to me, the thrill of starting a new chapter, or both. I had anticipated this moment for such a long time. My place, my own life! A chance… to find out who I was. Slipping the key in the lock with a click made me smile. Pushing the flimsy panelled door, it opened to reveal a tiny studio apartment. I could see that it had a kitchenette, with appliances that looked like they were older than God himself, a beaten and battered old sofa that had seen better days and was in need of covering or, better yet, binning. One side of the room had a double bed that I stared at in awe; I had never had a double to myself before; this would be heaven for me.

　　"It's a dump. All the rooms here are." A female voice came over my shoulder.

　　"I've been telling her that for the last half hour, but she won't listen," Added Damien with a groan.I did not turn my head. Instead, I smiled wider.

　　"It's perfect," I whispered in return. It may not be big and fancy, but it was a space of my own!

　　It was my freedom.