Twisted Noon

I

"Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad." 

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

1989

A train horn deafeningly blared as I sat perched on a concrete slab parallel to the rusted tracks. Wind gushed past, blowing my hair into a frantic frenzy. I blinked rapidly, my eyes dried from the cool blast of air. As the train passed, I continued to flick the cap of my flask impatiently and without purpose.

It had almost been a full year since the night Michael Alvarez threatened to end my life.

I sucked in a shaky breath and exhaled as if all my pain and fears would leave my body if I believed hard enough. For the last few months, it felt like a dark mass had been placed over my head, slowly suffocating me with each passing day. My mind was a never-ending thunderstorm, and sometimes the most fierce tornadoes would brew and stir sheer chaos.

"Hey, Violet."

I shifted to face one of my closest friends since the dawn of time; Xavier. 

"Hey," I responded, tucking away the flask in a pocket and resting my hands on my knees. Xavier took a seat on the slab next to me, dusting off the grimy area with his palms first.

"I thought I'd find you here," He said, turning to study my face as if he could figure out all my deepest secrets and sinful acts at a glance.

"Yeah. I come here to think." I responded, pretending to look like I was deep into my thoughts.

"I know."

I stared off at the surrounding tree line as an actual thought popped into my head. I twiddled my thumbs and bit my lip with a sharp canine, drawing a small amount of fresh blood. It was strangely satisfying.

"I've heard Michael doesn't let clients get away easily. Why me?" I asked, wine red blood staining the front of my pure white teeth. 

Xavier looked down at the muddy ground before speaking. I could easily tell he was in pain as well, simply by the way he knitted his eyebrows together at every sentence I spoke. Fear of killers living and walking among us haunted everyone I knew.

"I'm not entirely sure about that one. Bosses like him are unpredictable." 

I shut my eyes tight and clenched a fist. I wondered if perhaps he was still planning to murder me, lying in wait in the shadows for the perfect time to strike. Letting your guard down for even a moment was by far the most dangerous thing one could do.

"You know, Xavier, I've thought of leaving this place more times than I can count. I can't leave everyone behind, though. They'd be slaughtered within a day." My voice cracked slightly at the word 'slaughtered' and tears threatened to spill down my cheeks. I hadn't noticed that I had almost torn my thumbnail clean off until Xavier pawed at my hand fiercely. At his touch, most of the rage pulsing through my head diminished. 

"Maybe we can all leave this place together. The entire gang." He suggested, applying pressure onto my nail with his bare hand. Blood pooled around my finger like a wedding ring and dripped onto the ground. The metallic smell instantly hit my nose and I secretly lavished for more.

"We can't do that. We have nowhere to go." I responded, biting back a wave of sadness. I feared to show weakness in front of others and hunched my shoulders to keep from lashing out. "And besides, no matter where I go, he will always find me."