Shon

Chapter 9: Innocence is Bliss

The sun starts to creep in through the small window facing the street. I sit against the couch, Evee sleeping on the floor, naked and covered with a warm crochet blanket.

I have to leave, but I didn't want to be one of those people who just bail on someone after a night like that. I still can't entirely wrap my head around what we did. It scared the fuck out of me.

Evee turns over and looks at me from the floor. "Hey."

I look down at her. "Hey."

Her hair frames her face well, billowing with curls.  I stand up and start to grab my clothes. This is wrong on so many levels. I can't allow myself to get THIS involved with someone's life. Okay, maybe that's a bit cliche, but you get what I mean. It's different; this is way different.

She sits up off the floor, dropping the blanket over her shoulders and around her body. "Gotta go?"

"I got to get to the bakery."

She stands. "You still want to know my secret, right?"

I finish pulling on my pants and look at her. She looks down at her hands, picking at her fingers to help get through the anxiety of whatever she was going to say to me.

"My dad was an asshole. He was a drinker, a big drinker. He'd come home a lot of nights and just be belligerent and angry. He beat my mom a lot. My sister and I used to hide in our bedroom and listen to the screaming. I was older so I held her ears a lot to protect her from the terror of it."

"One night, my mom rushed into our room and grabbed us up. She brought us to my parent's bedroom and told us to stay put. That she loved us. She locked us in. Not 5 minutes later, he came home. He sounded worse than ever. He hit her over and over and over, it must have been a million times. Then we didn't hear her anymore. It was quiet."

"I heard him crying, screaming at himself. 'What have I done.' he didn't shut up. Then he started knocking shit down. Throwing things looking for us. He was getting closer, so I shoved my sister under the bed. I told her to close her eyes and shut her ears. He was banging on the door, screaming for us to come out."

"I ran to my dad's nightstand and pulled the gun out that he kept in there. He showed me how to load it once. I put the bullets in, turned the safety off and stood by the door. I wouldn't let him hurt us. He finally broke it down and I shot him. I shot him right in the head. He fell like a ton of bricks right on top of the door. I shot him again and again until the gun was empty. Must have been four or five times, I wasn't really counting."

She looks up at me, "He killed my mom. Beat her to death. Hit her in the head with a frying pan and killed her. He would have killed us, so I killed him first."

Shit.

I didn't need to hear anything else. All the pieces didn't need to fit together for me to understand I was, in some way, a reflection of her father. A way for her to save her mom or whatever crazy twisted shit she made this to be for herself.

"I should have told my mom to run. I should have spoken up and we would have gotten away from him. She would have listened to me if I said something, but I didn't. I was so fucking weak."

"You were a kid."

Years of therapy couldn't heal something like that, or me.

I walk up to her.  I want to comfort her in some way but have no idea how, "Look I understand, sort of. But you can't fix me. Nothing can replace the way I feel when I-- "

"What about this?" She closes the gap between us, "You didn't kill me. You had every chance to but, you didn't."

Buttoning my jeans and reaching for my jacket, I back away. "No, I couldn't. Which is why this has to be over."

Evee moves towards me again, but I hold out my hand for her to stop. "Don't say anything! Just don't. This is so fucked up on so many levels. You're a distraction and I can't have that in my life. I can't have you fucking things up for me. If I want to survive I have to be in this alone. Without whatever the fuck this is."

I walk over to the door to leave. She follows me of course, putting her hand on the door. "Wait."

I shut my eyes as the feeling of spiders creep down my spine. "Don't! Don't follow me. Don't find me. This is done you understand? Done! I'm sorry I dragged you into my shit, I am. But this can't be. This." I point from me to her and back to me again, "This can't happen again or ever."

"Alright. I get it."

I look at her for a long time. I couldn't follow her or see her again. I had to forget her. I didn't think it would be this hard to let her go. 

She leans against the wall by the door. "Can I ask you one last question?"

"Fine."

She takes a step closer. "When you kill people, after it's all done, do you feel any sense of regret for what you did? For taking someone's life from them?"

"No. I don't." I state bluntly and confidently. It's the God honest truth, "If I killed you... I think I would. It fucking scares the shit out of me."

My words seem to validate something in her mind. "I don't want to feel that way. Ever."

She steps past me and opens the door, "Good luck out there."

"I don't need luck."

"I know just." she bites her lip, "Just be careful."

I left it at that. I walk out the door and up the stairs onto the street. I don't look back, not now not ever. I had to get back in the game. She took me out of it for a while but I had to cut it out. I had to forget that kiss, her hair, her smell, the way her body tasted.

Fuck. Stop it! 

It might take a few days to erase her, but it was possible. I just have to occupy myself with something else or some else.

Just then an ambulance drives by. I look at the number painted on its red and white surface. #452.

Pete. #452. Minty Pete. #452.