Behind every beautiful thing, there's some kind of pain.
Bob Dylan
—
Fire.
That's what it feels like in my body as I limp towards the bathroom. I take off my blood-soaked shirt and pants while holding onto the sink for support. I have to hold onto the walls to make it into the shower. A blood curdling scream echoes in the house, it takes me time to realize that it's mine. The hot shower stings each wound of flesh. Particularly my shoulder.
I should've paid the land lord extra to let me have cold water in the mornings. I scrub everywhere but the wound and get rid of the murky dirt and trauma. I put my iPod nano on shuffle, something I bought at a garage sale. It doesn't really help when 'I miss you' by Blink-182 starts playing.
Stupid iPod.
After changing into a very oversized shirt that comes below my knees, I put on some knee high socks after bandaging my shoulder to my best effort.
How does one even do that themselves? Maybe they have a YouTube tutorial on it. Too bad I don't have wifi. I only use the cafés computer to sync songs into my iPod. Shay tells me I need Instagram. It sounds mentally harmful.
After about thirty minutes of scrubbing the kitchen floor and washing my bloody sheets and clothes while simultaneously trying not to cry , I look at the time on the clock.
7:00 AM
Dalaric's here.
I force myself not to get up, put some pants on and run into his arms. I think I would even go as far as to skip the pants part. That's how much I want to be near him.
It's only when I peek out the small window in the kitchen do I let my eyes water.
I'm so selfish.
There he is, leaning against his car with his arms crossed, in all black. He's wearing a black turtle neck under a leather jacket along with black cargo pants. He looks good enough to eat along with his cornrows. It hurts when you desire someone you can see but can't touch.
I want to hug him.
I want to boop his nose.
I want to touch his hands.
But I can't.
I look around the streets below and my eyes widen as a smirking Joshua stands at the far end of the street, next to a red Ferrari. He winks at me and I retreat back into the house and sit on the now cleaned floor.
I'm not sure I can even handle school right now. I guess I'll have to email my essay at the café.
I play with a loose string on my shirt as the first knock sounds. I clench my eyes as I lean back onto the wall, a hand over my mouth to muffle my sounds of calling him out.
The second knock sounds. It's daunting , how he's right outside the door but so far away. "Mayella. Open." His groggy voice calls out.
I'm so selfish because i'm wasting him time. But I can't text him, who knows if Landon or Joshua are watching my every move. I hate that I don't want to risk it.
I get up and pad softly towards the gate to my happiness. Sudden images make me halt in my steps. Images of Landon doing worse things to me. Images of Joshua muffling my screams and hurting more than my wrist.
I'm selfish.
I wait and wait, until I hear booted steps make their way down the building stairs. I turned my phone off four hours ago , he definitely thinks I'm ignoring him. There's no point in apologizing , he already hates me.
I'm selfish.
The next seven hours are spent either asleep or listening to sad rock songs. I put on some leggings to go with my oversized t-shirt and make my way to the café , ignoring the calls of my landlord by covering my ears. My heart palpates as I look around the streets paranoid that they are somewhere here, watching me. Much to my fortune , I don't spot anything.
"There's my girl! We missed you at the café yesterday" Jim frowns exaggeratedly at the fact that I didn't have a shift yesterday. He looks around the café first before leaning in further, his arms now wide open. "The rest of the workers are so annoying, it was hell." I giggle in response to his antics. Jim can always make me laugh. The giggles die down when he bear hugs me, his arms pressing tightly on my shoulders. I bite my lip, drowning out blood so I don't scream in agony. He lets me go, a grin on his happy face and I can't help but smile back at him, rather weakly.
I can't let people be sad because of my own sadness.
After changing into my work clothes, I feel slightly better. It feels normal. Just a normal day, work after school. Except only he isn't here. I also want Wendy's.
Shaking my head to get rid of those pessimistic thoughts, I smile at my first customer.
Aw, babies! There are triplets in the couple's arms. I reach over to pinch one of their cheeks after asking for permission and giggle along with them.
"I love chubby babies." I tell the couple, who seem to be newly wed. The mother frowns, "They're not fat."
Oops.
"No-um, I uh-meant that- did you want the vanilla cupcake with the coffee to go?" I try to change the subject with a nervous smile at it works. Thankfully. I wave at one of the chubby- I mean normal- babies and they give me a toothless smile. Aw.
My day gets better with each customer and the lack of any sighting of them. My grin returns as Clancy enters the café, a nervous smile on his face. He's dressed in a navy sweater over a white collared shirt and black slacks. He looks nice. Not as nice as-Don't.
He walks over to the counter after getting a look around the café. "Hey Maya," His gaze wanders over my face and a small smile grows on his face before he shakes his head out of his trance. Did I not wash my hair? I probably didn't pluck the weird hair on my chin.
"Hey Clance. Can I call you that? I'm calling you that. You look nice today!" A pink tint grows on his pale freckled cheeks and he clears his throat.
"Yeah-um, thank you, Maya. You look nice too.." he mumbles something at the end which either sounds like Wednesday or everyday. I think it's the latter for some reason. Clance leans on the counter and runs a hand through his auburn hair.
"Why weren't you in school today?" My eyes go wide and I look anywhere but him. I hate lying but this is something I have to do.
"My mom and I went out to a nice park. We wanted some time alone since we rarely get any, with work and school, y'know." I wish that were true.
He smiles and nods understandingly before looking through the menu. "Can I have a slice of the red velvet cake, please?" I smile in response before giving in the order and letting him find a seat. I'm filling the salt shakers when the door bell chimes. Putting away the things, I tie my apron tighter before preparing myself to greet the customer. I hope they buy the carrot cake since I helped make it. I won't force them if they don't. Okay maybe I will-
Grey swirly eyes gaze into mine when I look up and instinctively take a step back. Dalaric's face is nonchalant but I notice the twitching finger which tells me he's pissed. Very pissed. Instead of comforting him like I want to, I walk backwards, hoping to make it to the changing room where I can lock myself in to try and prevent any events including me in his warm embrace.
Dalaric isn't having it though. He jumps over the counter skillfully. Like a ninja turtle. Except slightly prettier. Sorry ,ninja turtles. He signals someone behind him who does the same and stands behind the counter. Rafael smiles, a twinge of guilt and pity in his eyes as he scratches the back of his Afro nervously.
Note: Ask if you can braid Rafael's hair.
I walk backwards into the changing rooms, Dalaric walking towards me. His jaw is clenched, his pretty caramel skin reflects the light from the café windows and his eyes are narrowed. Where's Jim when you need him?
It's not that I'm scared of Dalaric. I could never be scared of him. I'm scared of myself. Scared that I'll touch him and never let go which will eventually end in only my pain. I doubt he cares. He's probably only mad because I know he's an assassin and I'm a potential suspect since it's classified information. I don't really know how the justice system works. It seems untrustworthy with the lack of justice the government actually gives.
It's only when my back hits the lockers does he stop. I look down , shame overcoming me at how mad I made him. I need to google how to stop disappointing people.
"Is this your fucking idea of friends?" His voice deep, each word laced with dissatisfaction. I gulp and bite my lip as I shake my head. I value friendship. I may not be the best of them but I consider it treasure.
"Answer me." His tone reminds me of someone scolding a child. I'm not far from it with the way I act.
"No, Dalaric."
I stare at his chest, not being able to look him in the eyes as I feel my throat constricting, whimpers begging to be let out. I pick a lint from his turtleneck and watch it fall on the floor as if it's the most interesting thing in the world.
"Look at me." I shake my head. I can't. I can't tell him that his own brother is keeping me from doing so.
He sighs before grabbing my arm. I try not to cry at how gently he does it, avoiding both the injured wrist and the newly healed cut. He takes me to the counter before turning me to face him. Dalaric uses a finger to lift my chin so that I can meet his eyes but I don't.
The tone of his voice is softer now, "Come with me."
I want to say yes so badly. But the sight of Joshua's car right outside the café door stops me from doing so. I take a step back, leaving his touch.
"I can't."
Dalaric's face hardens. He nods stiffly and makes his way over the counter after giving me one last look. My selfish heart breaks at the look on his face. A look of hurt. I play with my apron as Rafael leaves too, after waving back at me when I give him a sad thumbs up.
I've lost two friends in one day.
The rest of the shift passes with forced greetings and a feeble attempt at selling the carrot cake. I decide to pack it in a box to give it to the homeless shelter near my building after saying goodbye to Jim, who eyes me warily when I tell him I'm alright.
Joshua's car is gone when I make it to my door. Mama's travel bag is gone too, meaning she's going away for more than a month. I sigh as I plop myself onto my bed. I fiddle with my fingers as I recall the events of the day, the empty apartment eerie in the dark might. I let out a worried gasp when I notice that my ring- the one my Papa gifted me- is not on my hand.
I waste no time in turning on my phone to call Jim, ignoring the unread texts that make my heart skip a beat. He tells that the cleaners didn't find anything. My eyes almost water but an idea makes its way into my head.
I shouldn't- no I can't go. He hates me. He'll kick me out of there. Rafael probably hates me too. I also have no cab money. But the ring is too important.
It's not like I'd ever miss the chance of seeing Dalaric again.
Even if it might be for the last time.
I leave the apartment wearing an oversized wool sweater that I bought from the men's section of a thrift store.
The warehouse, if my memory loves me, is only eight minutes away from my house. I shiver only slightly as I walk, the cold wind soothing me.
The steel door is intimidating when i reach it. I do the knock , trying to resemble the way Dalaric does it but it comes off as a failed dubstep. The door opens to reveal a tan man with a sour expression on his face and a rolled paper in his mouth.
"Who the fuck are you, little girl?"
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W O R D C O U N T : 2077
Ricky's hurt 🥺🥺🥺🥺
Thank you for reading.
Love always,
-Aj.