Noir

Chapter Two

My fingers jumped over the holes in my jeans, and I was as I always had been. Completely oblivious to the world around me. That wasn’t true, though. Not completely. I’ve been called obscure and aloof many times, but I think mostly it’s because people paid the most attention to their surroundings, and never once what really mattered. When’s the last time you took a look inside of yourself, instead? Or, maybe watched the way the color changed in the sky instead of what new outfit that girl you can’t stand was wearing? Can you say you’ve discovered yourself a thousand times, and will a thousand times more, instead of wondering why who did what, and if they’d do it again?

Those were the sort of things I liked most. Instead of memorizing the bad things about people, I liked to pay attention to the pattern their freckles made or how they parted their hair. An attitude that has gotten me in trouble once, and a million times more. Like tonight, for instance. 

I didn’t notice the sound of footsteps behind me, and even if I would have, there shouldn’t have been anything peculiar about this. It was nearer to seven o’clock, now, and the sun was only just beginning to set. Shops wouldn’t close down for another two hours, if even at all. My mother and Luca wouldn’t notice I was gone for quite some time, and neither would be father, I guess. But he never really noticed when anyone was gone. 

I did notice, however, the sudden hand that clasped over my mouth. The hands that clawed at my skin and drug me away. I noticed the burning of my skin as my shirt just barely lifted, the concrete scraping against my skin to tear it away. 

But, other than that, it happened fast. And then, I couldn’t really remember anything at all. 

By the time they were done with me, it was dark. I was crying, and I hurt. The tears flowed down my cheeks faster than I could wipe them away. I felt kind of silly to be crying the way I was. In all truths, they only thing that had happened was they had cut of a few strands of my hair, and I was slapped a few times. Once or twice. But, I was still attacked, and I was still scared. 

I knew I should move—go home, anywhere but here. In case they came back for me. But, I couldn’t move. I didn’t know how much time had passed as I sat there, shaking. Enough time for me to stop crying. And, sure enough, enough time for someone to find me. 

But, it’s not who I wanted. It’s never who I wanted. 

“Oh, isn’t this rich,” her voice, although harsh, was almost soft. Like a velvet yet to be ruined. “I come back here for a quick moment to myself and I find you. Got a name, sweetheart?”

Her hair was white, whiter than I thought a person’s hair could be. Even teased it still looked soft. “I don’t know why I should tell you.”

“Well, you see, you’re in the back of an alleyway. You’re a mess. And, unless I tell my friend over there,” she paused to point at the man staring at them. “That you’re just a friend, and not a stray, no one will call the cops for a public disturbance. Understood?”

I didn’t really understand what she was saying. I hadn’t of caused any trouble. But, I told her anyways. “Kit.”

She raised her eyebrow. “Well, Kid—”

“Kit.”

“Right, whatever. You can call me Astrid, okay? Now, let’s go inside and get you cleaned up. You’re a mess.”

“You’ve already said that.”

“Well, I’ve said it again, Kit. Now, let’s go.” I didn’t argue. 

Astrid had a pretty face. I didn’t remember much from that night. But, I did remember her face and the frown she wore so proudly on it. She wore dark make-up, really dark, which at the time, I thought was odd considering her angelic features. And, later on, when brought up, I only got laughed at. 

Astrid said like all parts about her, it was hot, and that maybe I should try it out sometime. I said maybe. 

“I saw what they did to you,” she frowned. “I considered helping you, I really did.”

“Why didn’t you?” I couldn’t say I was mad. Not many people would have ever admitted to seeing that in the first place. Not the victim, anyways. And, if they would have, they would have never mentioned that they merely only thought about helping. I guess that’s what I liked about Astrid. She was brave and not at the same time. 

She shrugged. “I’m small. And there were two of them. If I ever thought for a moment something serious was about to happen, I might have stepped in. I don’t know.” She shrugged her tiny shoulders, again, like the matter didn’t concern her. And I guess it didn’t. I wonder if it bothered her. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” I said. 

And she said, that no, it wasn’t. 

She promised me that no matter what, we’d get them back. I don’t know how she planned on doing that, because I didn’t even see their faces. But I said okay, anyways, because Astrid was willing to help me, and I was curious about her. I just said okay.