Try to mend what's left of my content incomprehension
As I take on the stress of the mess that I've made
Don't know if I even care for grown, if it's just alone, yeah
The honeycomb yellow of the sun poured through the cracks in the blinds and awaited entrance into my eyes. Thoughts of the visions in my sleep come and go in waves, clinging on to the very last memory of the night but with little success.
Giving myself a moment to shed the sleep from my brain, and allow the visions of the night to give way to the day. In a few minutes I will be able to meet the sunlight, but my body isn't adjusted for that yet.
My body is tired and laced with sleep still, as I slowly let my eyes peel open. Stuck in the warmth of the blankets, I somehow still feel so empty. As I open my eyes I let the reality of the world come into my sight.
Waking up is no longer the pleasure it was. There is a fleeting moment when I feel whole again but it evaporates fast, with only a few waking seconds I can feel at peace. Then my lids that were drooping and stuck with heavy slumber snap open violently as if I'd been woken by the screams of sirens wailing.
Sleep hadn't been the same for over ten years. I never felt the pure joy of waking up in the comfort of my home with my family. I never got to feel anything like that anymore. There is always that lingering feeling or something that trails behind and pulls me down.
I sat up quickly, confused on why I was so fidgety today. I was alone in the bed of my hotel room, the plain brown walls making me feel cornered in. Nothing special was going on today, so I don't understand why I was feeling like this. It always sucks to be down for no reason.
After I parted ways with the boys, I found myself alone in my thoughts like I usually did. I felt that urge to relapse, it I fought it so hard. Harry was the only thing that could get me through it.
I thought of him and how far he is fighting for himself and how I can't just give up on myself or him. I wanted to call him so bad, and just have him hold me as I cried because of every little issue in my life, but I couldn't. I need to stay strong and I can't let my heart fold because of this.
Tomorrow would be an even harder fight, but I just needed to take it day by day. One day at a time I can work through my issues and try and control them. Today I just need to call Hugo, nothing too bad. It will calm me to hear someone I am familiar with.
October 13.
Thirteen years since my beloved father passed away. That's what tomorrow was.
It was always a traumatic day, and I always seemed to spiral after it. Not only was it the day my dad passed away, it was the day I was taken. The day I went from a little elementary school kid, sad because her mother was gone, to a young child and early teen who was held hostage and used for sex.
A day.
That's all that could describe tomorrow. A long day full of my traumatic past coming back to haunt me.
It's not like those cheesy families you see posting things about celebrating life, it's a day that I mourn the beginning of my life forever being destroyed. Every year it seems to get harder instead of easier like people say it will. Each year seems like a harder fight to keep myself sober.
Thank god it wasn't a Friday this year. I've never been one that is big into those stupid superstitions, but I guess the universe decided to turn it against me to prove me wrong. There must have been some ghostly spirits in the air that day that wanted to come for me.
Maybe it was my mother?
That's probably so wrong to think, but after all it is my mom. She was fine from what I remember of her though. The memories are very blurry, and after all of the years I spent in my own personal hell, I can barely remember anything.
I was only five when she passed away, instead of playing on the playground like a normal kindergartener, I was sitting in my mothers lap on her hospital bed. I watched her every day to see her slowly wisp away from us until it became only my dad and I.
Cancer is a bitch. I had to watch the one woman I loved and cared about die in front of me. She did her best to teach me as much as she could, and be my figure for as long as she could. One day it just became too much for her.
She fought so hard, she fought with every last fiber in her. There are no words to this day to describe how heartbroken I was, how any person is when they watch someone they love die. Let alone for me to do it twice.
My mom apologized for dying. She fucking apologized for being sick and dying. I wanted to go back in time and scream at her and tell her it's not her fault and I would do anything to have her hold me for one more day. I cried into her arms for days upon days, until it eventually became our last.
On her last day, we could feel her dwindling out. It was just the three of us, stuck in the tiny white hospital room that reeked of bleach. We held her hands as she took her last breaths, making broken promises to both me and my dad. The one promise I've kept to myself the longest and tried to fight it off, is the only words that can help me get through the day...
Promise me you will never be scared again.
I have never let myself say I was scared since that day. Even when I was so bruised and broken I couldn't move my body, I wasn't scared. I had to keep that promise to my mom. It is one of the only ones that has lasted this long.
She wanted my dad to promise to keep me safe and protect me from anything bad, and he did that to an extent. They just got to him too fast.
He was learning to play both parental roles when these people came for us. He was fighting for us, he was just learning along the way. He had to take slow steps so he could build himself strong. I could see how weak he was, he lost the love of his life.
He had his troubles with alcohol and other addictions, but he was always there for me. He dropped me off and picked me up from school, he did arts and crafts and let us watch cartoons on the weekends, he stayed strong. He always put a smile on his face for me even though I could see how much he was hurting. He put the mask on until the second he died.
I know how much he struggled, yet as I cried curled up on my couch, watching him sat tied up in a chair in the middle of our living with a gun pressed to his head, he still told me it will be alright. He told me the same thing my mom did, don't be scared.
I wasn't scared. I listened to their words, even when I watched the bullet fly through the center of his skull. Even when I watched him collapse to ground, and watched the only person in my life fall out of it. I wasn't even scared when the men ripped my screaming, broken body from my childhood home.
I wasn't scared.
"Fuck." I muttered to myself when I finally snapped out of my head and felt the tears rolling down my cheeks.
This always happens. I think about one little thing and then it's like a trickling affect of a downfall of my emotions. I can't get out of my head though, I am just stuck in the stupid memories of it. I don't know why it happens but I can't stop it.
I brought my hands up to my eyes and wiped away the few lost tears that had slipped out. I wish I could just be able to function and process things like a normal human being.
I groaned and pulled the warmth of the sheets off of me and stepped out of the bed. I might as well try and be somewhat productive today. The least I can do is just go take a warm shower and relax myself a little bit.
It's just a shower, I can do this.
I trudged my body to the bathroom as my feet hit the cool tile of the ground making a chill go down my spine. The shower was small, and very outdated. This was an odd hotel from what we usually stay in. It's usually the nicest and newest hotels but this one is just fine.
I turned the water on and watched as the water splashed onto the ground. When I moved over to the counter to remove my clothes, I caught my reflection in the mirror.
My eyes had dark bags under them, and I looked like I had been run over. My body was so tired even though I just got a decent six hours of sleep. I just looked so exhausted.
I slowly pulled the t-shirt I had on over my head, leaving me in just my underwear. I didn't like sleeping in pants, they were always annoying. Once I removed all my clothing I stepped back towards the shower. The cool air that breezed through the room brushed onto my skin giving me goosebumps.
I stepped into the shower letting the scorching water pelt my back, but not moving to turn it down. I just stood naked, staring off into space for minutes as the water ran down my body. I like showers.
Taking a shower is like taking time for myself. I get to recenter and let myself slip out of reality for a little bit and go back to my nature.
The steam is beginning to fill the room around me and my skin warms to the touch. Just for these few minutes of my day I can be calm. The shower is like my place of calm, no one can bother me here.
It's a place of thinking and contemplation, which can be dangerous for me, but I don't let it. I let it be my place of calm. Like the slow streams of water are washing away my issues.
I began my daily stupid routine of being a woman. I don't understand why we have to do so much as beauty standards. Like shaving and conditioning our hair. Men just use nasty three in one soaps and go on with their day. It is very unfair.
After twenty minutes of distracting myself, I was starting to get antsy and anxious again. I left the comfort of the shower and let myself be hit with the cold reality of my life.
I moved around grabbing some clothes to wear, which somehow ended up being Harry's hoodie. I don't know why I chose it, I just wanted to wear it right now. It is calming.
I brushed out the tangles of my long wet hair and moved around trying to find something to do. I didn't want to go anywhere, because I hate massive public places. I guess I could call Hugo now.
My nerves instantly turned on when I reached for my phone on the nightstand. I scrolled through my contacts looking for his and hesitated before pressing it. It rang for a little bit before he answered.
"Indiana," I heard his shallow voice through the speaker pressed against my ear. "How are you doing?"
"Hi." I said nervously because of the tone in his voice. "I'm doing fine, how are you?"
"Fine." He deadpanned into the phone. "I don't have much time before I have to get on my flight, but we have to go over a few things."
I instantly tensed up at his words. This could go in so many different directions, and there is only one direction it should go in. Everything is going fine and he doesn't know anything about me helping them or that I slept with Harry.
"What's up?" I asked as I crawled out of the bed and opened the sliding glass door to the balcony.
I stepped outside being hit with the warm humid air of California. I moved to sit in the little deck chair that sat in the corner and overlooked the busy streets of San Jose. The midday traffic below me crammed together as people tried to move through their day.
"How was Hawaii?" He asked like he knew something and I straightened up in my seat as played with the ring on my finger.
"Fine," I said simply. "Warm and peaceful. Not much more than that, why?"
"What were you doing at that job?" He cut straight to it and I let out a little cough thinking he wouldn't know. "I have eyes and ears everywhere, the word gets around quickly that a young woman is helping a very large mafia group of men."
"I didn't have a way out of doing it, they needed me as an alibi." I lied into the phone, I knew part of me enjoyed helping them. "It's not important, they don't know who I am. Plus, the closer I get to them, the closer I get to Desmond."
I need to stop using Harry as a way to get more information about Desmond. But am I even doing that at this point?
"Good. I have some news about him," I felt my chest tighten at his words and I didn't understand why. "I think it'll help you out."
"Okay." I said quietly into the phone, wishing I had weed or a cigarette one me right now.
"He's looking for something," He started and I adjusted myself in the chair. "I don't know what, but they are going to start hitting mafias across the country and world to find it."
"How does that help me?" I questioned, confused on what this had to do with me.
"Well, once they find it you will be in contact with him," He sounded excited as he spoke and I was just stuck in my spot. "And if they don't find it, he's going to find those boys you are with and hurt them."
Hurt them?
What is he talking about? Why would Desmond hurt them over something like this?
"What?" I asked quickly at his last words.
"You heard what I said." He deadpanned and I stood up from the seat to move inside. "He wants this bad, and don't act like you care what happens to them. Do I need to remind you that you must do anything to get to Desmond?"
I do care. For once in my life I've grown to care about what happens to someone. I don't understand it, but I just know I care.
"No." I said quietly as the door slid shut. "I think I'll see him on Halloween possibly, if not then I'll get him on Black Streak Friday."
Black Streak Friday.
That was their genius idea and version of Black Friday. I guess they started it one year and it grew bigger and bigger and now multiple mafias are involved.
"Good, make sure you are keeping tabs on him." He spoke into the phone like I already didn't know that. "I think they are going to try and fight us."
Great way to add to my stress levels.
My competing mafia is about to attack my own mafia as I work for the enemy. What a complicated situation.
"Great." I deadpanned and signed because starting a fight with Black Streak was equivalent to starting a civil war.
"Don't sound too excited," Hugo laughed into the phone. "I'll only call you if I need the big guns. You just keep yourself hidden and keep your eyes on those boys better than you are now."
"What why?" I asked quickly, feeling nervous that I was doing something wrong in this job. "I can't watch their every move. I thought I was doing good."
"You are doing good," He said as I heard moving around him. "You are just slacking off today."
"Why?" I spoke into the speaker of the phone as my grip tightened on it.
"Because they are currently attacking one of our warehouses."
Authors Note
We are going to have an emotional couple of chapters so get ready..