Chapter 120
Everything went as I planned. Mom didn't see me driving and I don't ever want her to.
I'm now on my way to Blake's house. I called Carla a few minutes ago and apologized for taking long. I didn't tell her I'd sleep over, I just want to tell Blake myself. I want to see how he reacts since I always leave and go back home but tonight, I'll be staying.
It's been a while since I went to his place and I'm abit nervous. All I know is that I don't want to meet his mother. I've met his dad not more than twice, he's not that bad of a man, his wife though, is the ultimate definition of horror!
From afar I can already spot people, men and women, outside Blake's house and the closer I get, I notice each one of them either has a notebook and a pen or a huge camera. They're all talking loudly asking questions, raising their heads over each other to see the front of the house. Paparazzi and news reporters, I can tell.
Who are they asking questions? I wonder. I doubt Blake would be the one outside talking to the paparazzi. I sigh silently and pull over a few meters away from them, and I sit in the car to observe them.
Minutes later, I step out of the car and slam the door behind me. No one notices me even as I start pushing my way through the crowd of people, and I can hear a familiar voice talking calmly at the front of the house.
"No one's home, but you can definitely interview me," she says and I move even faster, pushing people out of the way. When I finally get to the front of the crowd, I spot her, my arch-enemy. The destroyer of destroyers. Mother of all inhumanity, the daughter of Lucifer, Sabrina Johnson.
Her blonde hair is straightened, her red lipstick is making her lips pop and she's in an outfit I'd rather not talk about because she's almost naked. Her eyelashes are so long, it's obvious they're just fake.
I stand glued to the ground, my eyes boring holes into her and to my surprise, it's like she senses my presence and stops talking to one of the reporters who was taking down notes.
"Ah! What a pleasant surprise," she speaks. Her voice is so high pitched and annoying and makes me want to run away.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, trying to keep calm.
"Same reason as you are, you mallard," she fires and I swallow hard as my fingernails dig deeper into my palms. She's always waiting to start trouble at any time and I don't like that at all. I came here to have a good time and not start arguing with some spoilt asshole with fake eyelashes and breasts!
Calm down! She's not worth it.
After some inward advice to myself, I turn around to face the crowd carefully scanning their faces. Surely there must be someone I know who knows my dad.
"Kyrah?" I hear someone call my name from my left side and I quickly turn to see who it is.
"Dilton? Oh, thank God you're here," I say as we both shake hands firmly. He's one of the best photographers in town and he's friends with my dad.
"What are you doing here?" he asks over the loud crowd and someone pushes through the crowd and holds a recorder right in front of my mouth.
"Are you in any way related to the Dawsons? Who are you and what do you know about the current situation at the Dawson house? Do you, by any chance ha–"
"Shut up!" I yell at him and turn to Dilton. "I'm here for moral support that's all. Please, could you tell these people to leave? This is invasion of privacy and I'm sure it's only the housekeeper who's around," I say the last sentence out loud and everyone turns to me. Those who were busy taking photos of Sabrina, as she poses for the perfect shots, turn to listen to me.
"Err... Yeah, the housekeeper said the Dawsons went away... I mean, who would stay in their house after what just happened?" I turn to Dilton. "Would you stay at home knowing the paparazzi would be on your neck the next day?"
"No. I guess you're right," Dilton says with a long face.
"All those hours we spent here and none of the family members are here? What a waste of time. Come on, let's go Elizabeth, we've got other people to stalk," I hear a man say out loud and they all start walking away, some getting into their cars and driving away.
"What? Wait! Don't leave yet, I was having an interview," Sabrina begs them but they don't turn back. Once they're all gone, I act as if Sabrina is invisible and walk straight towards the front door but her voice makes me halt.
"I had it under control–" she hisses but I cut her off, turning to face her.
"Oh, sure you did." My words drip sarcasm. I roll my eyes then I turn on my heel and continue walking.
"I know you're scared of me." She chuckles, arms akimbo.
That's it! I'm done being treated like a weakling by her.
My fists curve into balls instantly and I turn again and look straight into her eyes.
"You don't scare me anymore, you sick bitch! Go ahead and call me whatever you want but I won't leave without a fight. I came here to see Blake and you're wasting your time thinking you'll go through that door with me. You don't know me very well, Sabrina. I might be the girl you love torturing and insulting but atleast I know I'm better than you and that's why I have what you'll never have, friends and Blake. You're the loneliest human I know and when I start chopping your fucking fingers off, one by one, no matter how loud you try to scream, no one will come to rescue you. Because the only person you'd call is probably Blake and he doesn't want to see you, I'm sure of that. So get your pathetic, bitch-ass self out of here before I ruin your shitty face!" I fire at her, pushing her shoulder and she nearly falls. She bat's her eyelids in shock.
She then straightens that see-through dress of hers and walks straight towards me.
"You're still a weak bitch to me, plus, you're not the only one who's allowed to come see Blake. I'll get to see him whether you like or not. If I can't have him then you can't too," she snorts.
I feel like there's an overheating kettle of water boiling inside my head, making a shrieking sound as if it's about to explode. My hand flies straight to Sabrina's jaw and I hold her oval face in one hand, my fingers pressing deep into her skin.
"Listen here you dimwit, your crab mentality isn't going to help you. Blake is mine, all mine. In fact, tonight, I'll be in his bed and boy oh boy, does he know how to use that tongue of his–" I say through gritted teeth, she tries to slap me but I grab her arm tightly with my other arm, the other still grabbing her jaw.
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