You Make The Pain Fade Away

Chapter One

I must have been working all morning. A bunch of people had passed by. Some saying "hi" and others completely ignoring me like if I didn't existed.

Did this help me meet a lot of people? NO. It did not. It made me feel foolish of myself, since back in New York I was very noticeable by people. I was quite famous.

I miss my friends.

I grabbed the last can from the large box. On my tip-toes I tried placing it on the top shelf, but since I'm 5'2, I couldn't do it. I cursed and tried again, this time, I suddenly felt someone behind me. Violating my personal space. He grabbed the can and settled it on top without a problem. His body was awfully close to mine and if I turned around, I knew I was going to collide into him.

"Um thanks," I said awkwardly, side stepping.

"Any time," he winked. Asshole.

"Break time. Want to get lunch?," he smiled. I'm not hungry, however I am very thirsty.

We went to eat at the grill. A restaurant across the market. John's cousin was left to take over the store. We sat on a booth next the window. I gulped down the lemonade I had ordered. God, it was such an appease.

"Want more?," John requested. I caught his eye. He was sitting across from me, smirking.

"John?," a guy neared us. He wore a brown cowboy hat with a ripped brown shirt and worn out jeans.

"Hey man," John hand shake the cute guy.

"Hey cutie. My name is Jackson," he grinned. I tried smiling, but it was really hard to leave it for long.

"Hi, I'm Ashley."

"Northern girl, I see. You new here?," Jackson asked. I nodded.

"See you around and John, call me after work," Jackson winked at me, before he left. Wow. What's up with the winking gesture? It's freaking me out.

John stared at me.

"What?," I said flatly. He shrugged.

"Arn't you going to ask me something?"

"Like?"

Right there and then, the waitress came with John's hamburger without cheese nor pickles and fries with ketchup aside. I had ordered nothing.

"Anything else?," the waitress smiled at us.

"Refill for her," John gestured at my empty glass. She quickly took it away. I was impressed by her speed. In less then a minute she was back with my lemonade.

"Here you go," she smiled. I force myself to smile at her. She was so polite.

"Thanks Red," John said to her, taking a bite from his burger. She nodded and then absconded to attend a group of guys that had arrived. Red? Was that actually her name?

"Red is her nickname for having red hair. She got it since she was little. Her name is Becky though," John said as if he was reading my mind. "Are ya sure you don't want to eat?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Are you in a diet?," he smirked.

"No," I said sternly. Irritated.

"So," he began, dipping his fry into ketchup and then eating it. "Why you come live here?"

"That's really none of your business," I snapped. His smirk returned, but I saw he was surprised from my response. I bit my lip, realizing I have never done that.

I'm the soft type who barely yells at someone and I rarely get angry. For some skeptical reason, I was frustrated. At him.

I rewind back, trying to figure why I snapped at him. Was it just because he asked why I came to live here, I thought. That's when I was cognizant of the fact that I absolutely did not want to lecture him about my parents and the long painful tragedy.

First of all, I discernibly do not fraternize him. And second of all, even if I did perceive him, I wouldn't divulge the story. I positively know, I will end up breaking down and cry.

He rolled his eyes. "Its not like I care anyways."

"Then why ask?," I narrowed my eyes at him. He glared at me. I'm glad I was snappy. Imagine if I had told him the reason I was here... I would be bawling and he would be there for me, but he wouldn't care anyways, right?

Nothing can repair my broken heart. It's conclusively broken.

"Why not?," he said, amused. Is that really amusement for him? I don't find it humorous!

"You're cute," he smirked, standing up. He threw some bills on the table and went over to pay. Did I hear him right? I think I need an ear check.

I followed him out of the restaurant. I'm like yearning to go home already. Thing is, I was hoping to go home right after that, but I didn't. I had to keep on working till eight and I still had to broom up the place.

Meanwhile, John made sure everything was organized and if there was empty shelves. I was worn out, though. I collapsed on a bench near the entrance. I still had to mop, but I was exhausted. After a few minutes, John found me.

"You look happy," he grinned. I closed my eyes.

"Go away," I mumbled. He chuckled. I heard him walk away and I drifted to sleep.

I woke up in someones arms. It was pitch dark, but slowly my eyes adjusted on a familiar face. John.

"Put me down!," I shrieked, pushing him on his hard chest. He let go and my feet immediately found land.

Feeling disoriented, I glanced around. I recognized Grandpa's house. A faint light shined from behind the front door.

"Morning sleeping beauty," he said. I shot him a glare. Why is he smirking?

I marched towards the house, ignoring his stupid self. I walked in, heading straight for the stairs.

"Ashley?," Grandma said, before I could escape to the stairs.

"Yeah?," I said, halting. I hadn't even noticed her. She was sitting on a comfortable-looking rocking chair, reading a thick book.

"How was your day, sweetie?," she asked.

"Grandma, um, I'm tired. I'm gonna go shower. See you tomorrow," I said rapidly.

"Goodnight," she dismissed me. I rush up the stairs as I heard John enter. I got to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I sigh in relief, turning the shower on. I stripped my clothes off and put them on a laundry basket. I hopped in the shower, letting the cool water soothe me and refresh me. It was such a calming feeling.

Today had been an exhausting day. Thinking back, I remember falling asleep on the bench and then waking up in John's arms.

Oh God. Why hadn't he just woke me up? I regret falling asleep. He's a complete stranger and I can't just trust him cause he knows my Grandparents.

After my shower, I made my way up the stairs that lead to the attic. It was literally hot in here. It was hard to breath.

I hurried over to my window and turned on the old air conditioner which was installed a few days ago. Hot air came in. I hit it with my hand and slowly, it turned to cool air.

I let the towel fall as I walked to my (still) unpacked suitcase and pulled out a pair of Victoria Secret sleepwear shorts. I tried to find the matching shirt, but instead I threw on a non matching tank.

I carelessly pulled my wet hair into a ponytail. I toppled on my bed, staring at the slanted wall above me. I took a deep breath.

The lousy noise from the air conditioner annoying me. Thoughts of my parents flooded into my mind.

I remember when I was little, Dad would always read me a bed time story each night. And I remember how tired he would be, but he would still have the patience to read me a book.

I began to cry, knowing I would never see him again. Nor his voice. Why did fate had to be so cruel? What have I done to loose them like that? Why did they have to die? Why?

The tears streamed down my cheeks and I fell asleep asking myself unanswered questions like that.