Back from the Dead

Chapter 1- Old Friends, New Life

Chapter 1

The small shop was bustling with people. People ready to go to work or rush their children off to school. I come here every morning and it's always the same. Busy people with busy lives. But what else would you expect from a coffee shop found in the heart of New York? These hurried streets and people made it the perfect place for me to stay under the radar. And this cozy, little shop? It's convenient since I live across the street and have had plenty of opportunities to scope out all the escape routes. Living in a New York penthouse is expensive but I don't worry about bills. Why? That's classified.

I tapped my fingers against the table keeping my face expressionless. Not that I had to try, it's naturally been that way for 11 months. The psychiatrists tried to get me to tell them what happened to me. When I wouldn't, they labelled me as depressed and suffering from PTSD. They're wrong. I'm not suffering from anything, I'm not doing anything. I simply just exist. I lost myself 11 months ago and it's not because of depression. I refuse to let anyone in. Love means pain. Care means pain. And I have definitely had my fair share of it.

I flicked my long brown hair over my shoulder and closed my eyes forcing down memories. Some would say that it was unhealthy to suppress memories. I call it necessary.

My cold, expressionless exterior isn't all for show. I forget how to be human: how to laugh, how to play, how to enjoy life. Every day I look in the mirror and I can't even recognize myself. All I see is dead eyes. No emotions, no life. Nothing.

Living on my own had negative drawbacks though. I couldn't talk to others because they don't understand what I've been through. No one does. Well, that's not completely true. Four people would understand; unfortunately, they're dead. And if they were alive, I wouldn't have a problem. It wasn't so much their deaths that triggered my desensitization, but the way they died and the things I've done. Memory lane, to me, is a trip to hell's gates. I'm careful to keep a high concrete wall around these gates that no one can tap in to. Not even myself. I don't know how I would react if memories came flooding back. I doubt my reaction would be good.

"Dannie Billy!" shouted a voice across the room, shattering my thoughts before I got too far.

Letting out a relieved sigh, I signaled to the cashier who was waving my drink in the air.

"You must be the one and only Dannie." said the cashier who was looking my body up and down like I was a piece of meat rather than a girl. "I called your name a couple of times, looks like you were deep in thought."

I didn't bother with a response. I threw the money down on the counter and put my hand out to receive my tea. When he didn't hand it to me, I through him an expressionless look.

The cashier wasn't discouraged, "I've heard a lot about you from coworkers. Tell you what. If you give me your number, I'll give you your tea." He grinned thinking that his ultimatum was gold.

"Well... Eric," I responded looking down at his name tag, "you're going to give me my tea either way or the only number you will need is the one for the emergency room."

His grin faded but he still responded with as much dignity as he could muster up, "Feisty, I like it. How about that number now?"

Knowing perfectly well that I couldn't harm a civilian, I simply grabbed my cup from him and turned to walk away. I went back to the table I was sitting at to spend the rest of the day there. It wasn't like I had anywhere else to be or anyone else to be with.

Usually, I spent my day out at the gym throwing punches at a heavy bag or curled up on my couch watching movie after movie. There was no other activities I participated in. I mean, it hard to find things to do when your social life is literally nonexistent.