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I have endured, I have been broken, I have known hardship, I have lost myself. But yet here I stand, still
moving forward, growing stronger each day. I will never
forget the harsh lessons in my life.
They made me stronger...
-Unknown
Timberly
Looking in the mirror, I repeat this quote that I have read in the many books I lose myself in, but I'm tired of fighting. For once I want to be fought for. I need to open up and let the world in. It's not all bad, is it? Red seems to think not and maybe the boy with the dragon tattoo sees more in me than I see in myself. We shall see.
For the first time ever, I have felt butterflies at what could be. It wasn’t just a dream or wishful thinking. This boy spoke to me. He came back to talk to me again. He wanted to see me.
How do I show him without scaring the bejeebers out of his soul that I'm not as clean as my uniform makes me out to be? My soul is tainted black and my skin is filled with so my hate that I can barely sleep at night. My eyes are the windows to dark secrets. My mother is a junkie who doesn’t even know what day it is and pimps her daughter out for payment when due. Braiding my hair into a fishtail, I head down the stairs for cooking and cleaning duty.
It's remarkably quiet in this hellhole today, my door didn’t even get locked last night after drug lord number two paid me a visit. Shuddering inside my skin, I head to the kitchen, passing the passed-out drunks and druggos in the living room. I absolutely cannot stand drugs. Just look at what it does to people.
Pancakes and bacon today, seeing as I'm feeling good and looking forward to my day. I may even suck up enough courage to talk today instead of running away.
I sing James Arthur’s ‘Recovery’ while I put the washing on and clean up their mess. Empty bottles and crusty dishes are all over the place, along with the dirty needles from last night’s drug binge left lying about. I need to break free from here.
This song says so much. It’s the lyrics of my life.
Walking back up the hallway, I peer into her room. Clothing and junk are spread everywhere, she is sprawled out on top of her bed, two men on either side. Is it wrong of me to wish her to just OD? That would make this so much easier.
Shaking my head, I leave a note explaining where the food is and what I have done. I leave money in the freezer for her. I grab my hoodie from my room, wrapping my Rosary beads around my hand. If she saw them, she would flip her shit, they were my grandma’s. It’s the last thing my grandma gave me before the she-devil took me from them, to do this, to be a slave. To serve her and her men with food, my body, my mind and my soul. She could have just left me with them like hell she was gone for the first Fifteen years of my life but the moment I grew boobs and could make money pay her debuts she stole me back from them. From the only love I had ever felt to keep house with drug lords and cockroaches.
Gliding down the steps to the cool New York day, I breathe in the sweet smell of a new day. I fill up my lungs with the cold air as much as I can, reminding myself that I am human after all, even though half the time I feel like a zombie strolling through this shit pit with nowhere to go.
Startling me from my thoughts is that smell. Those eyes boring into my soul. Standing there, leaning up against a half burnt-out car in the street, it’s him, the boy with the dragon tattoo. Pulling into my hoodie I look at my feet. “Morning beautiful.”
Looking around and then back to him confused, he really is blind isn’t he. He has to see the apartment building I just stepped from and the filth that comes with this side of town. I point to myself, “Me?” looking around the strret is all but empty bar a few not so sober people making out on the hood of a car.
“Yep, you.” I feel the tell-tale flush in my cheeks. Pushing off the car he hands me a cup of coffee, “Strong, no sugar with just a dollop of cream,” he states like he’s been making it forever.
“H-how do you know how I have my coffee?” I stutter my mind races to how he would know this and how he thinks that’s its ok to like rock up here and well chat like its normal
Tapping his nose as he looked deep into my eyes, he said, “You’ll be surprised what I know, princess. Let’s walk to the library, shall we? I can help in your quest to read all the books ever written by man.” Ok well this is really weird and actually creepy now he knows a lot and that has the hairs on my spine prickling but the butterflies in my stomach flying high and then dipping low.
“That’s not just what I do there” I say coldly, hurt a little. “I am actually trying to find two of the most beautiful humans to ever walk this earth. My grandparents.” My tone sharp and I well surprised myself with it.
“I know, princess.” He winks at me as he reaches down and grabs my hand. I still, holding my breath. A panic attack is forming I can feel it, it’s taking my breath away, the little black spots are forming at the edge of my eyes. I need to listen to the beats of my heart, but they beat out of sync when he is around.
“It’s ok, babe, I got you. Just breathe. Don’t let this panic swallow you up. You are bigger than it.”
I'm so confused. My body starts shaking as panic bubbles to the surface. I try to form the words inside my head to come out in a coherent sentence. "Huh hoooww do you know t-this-s?” I ask nervously.
“Red. I stopped there and got our coffee. She told me somethings about you, but one thing I didn’t ask, solely because I wanted you to tell me, was what’s your name, beautiful?"
“I'm not beautiful, stop saying that.” I glare, uncomfortable that he comments on a feature I don’t have nothing ab out my broken soul is beautiful I am scared, and I am fractured. I try to pull my hand free, but he holds onto it tighter, pulling me into him.
“Listen to this,” he says, wrapping his arms tight around me, pulling me into his chest. “Listen to my heart, it’s never beat pure before. It was dead, dark and alone, it still is in a way, so shattered and cold. But you, beautiful, have brought something out in it. Just watching you, flying past you daily on my bike and hearing your voice, seeing the way the sun hits the natural black of your hair and illuminates you in a halo, and fuck, beautiful, don't get me started on your eyes. They do things to me that scares my shattered soul. You have brought back a slight hum. It's healing and maybe I need to know you, to mend you and to save you just as much as I need saving.” Well fuck he’s the boy on the bike, he’s the escape I wished for and he’s the dream that I know I need but hearing this deep submission sends a fear through me that I don’t know if I can hold onto. I’m unsure I can give what he needs and accept what he offers. He is right though heart beats hum when near death but they beat when love is injected.
Sucking in, my lungs fill with the crisp air as I try to dull the black spots. The last thing I want to do is pass out in front of him. Then he really will see just how screwed up I truly am. He’s right though, listening to his heart helps. It calms me, this is so weird. I’ve only ever had my own heart to calm me and the funny thing is his beat sounds a lot like mine. Not quite there, just a little hum in a body that’s been hurt for so long.
Stilling in his embrace, I seem to relax and his grip on me loosens a little. “That’s it, breathe, baby, just breathe. Do you hear that?” He asks, rubbing his hand on the small of my back.
“Yes, it sounds like m-mine.” I stutter out, “It sounds tormented like mine.” I say with an empty voice.
“It’s just that, baby, tormented. How about we be each other’s saving brave? We can save each other and be brave doing it,” he says, the last part nothing more than a whisper.
“No, don’t go,” he says nervously. His grip tightens as I try to run.
“I...I can’t. I'm no good for you. I can’t be brave for the both of us. I'm not strong enough to save myself let alone you!” I snap out, fast and clipped, pulling from his sweet embrace that seems to center me. Instantly the cold crisp air hits me taking away the warmth of him. Being near sadness hits my stomach, and I feel lonely without his embrace. Shit Timberly, the devil on my shoulder mouths into my ear. You can't even look at him so stop with the needing his touch shit.
Snappy bitch, I murmur to her as my angel comes into view.
He needs you as you need him, she whispers all calm and collected like she has such a great hold on the world. Looking over my shoulder as I flee, I suck it up and look into his eyes from under the safety of my long lashes. I see it, swimming in his breathtaking irises, a look of hurt, of abandonment, it stills me in my tracks.
“What’s your name?” He asks again.
“Why?” I shrug my shoulders.
“Because, like it or not, I want to know you. Your presence is a temptation my body needs. Before I found you, I was stuck in a hell of my own dark evil thoughts. And you, well, you bring light into that hell. You stimulate my senses. You verify that I am alive, not a cold dead soul needing to escape.” He is standing. Why is he standing? Taking a few steps into my space his presence sucks the air out from between us.
“You're what I look forward to seeing at the end of the night. I know that when sleep comes I get to see you, watch you, hear your sweet voice or see your fucking smile that sends my cock onto hyper alert.” Creepy much he is defiantly the kinda of guy that fits the mold of stalker slash serial killer but is tone and the look in his eyes is slightly comforting in a creepy way.
He sounds lost, as though he needs me! ME! But yet he has an edge to him. He's a dangerous bad boy in leather and cherry red Docs. “Why are you telling me these things?” I snap out, shocked at the harsh tone in my voice. I pull from his hand that he’d placed on my arm to keep me near him.
Turning away, I pull myself into my hoodie. How the hell is this happening? It's weird, fucked up, not right. I'm dirty beyond belief and yet he sees me, wants to actually see me. The plain ugly girl who stutters. I feel him walk up behind me and tense my shoulders. “Please don’t touch me again. Please just stay there. I can't do this! I have to go, I'm sorry!” I say honestly.
“Please beautiful, just tell me your name?” He asks, his tone laced with what I think is passion. A spark of a fire flicks over my cold soul as his words warm me and send a small splinter of hope into my body it actually feels remarkable I should allow it in.
“Timberly, my name is Timberly Roe.” I push out as fast as I can before my chest tightens and my world goes black. Just like that, like a bolt of lightning in the night’s sky, I'm out.
Ghost
Holy fucken shit! I didn’t mean to scare her to unconsciousness. Dropping down to my knees, I pick her up, checking her head, running my fingers through the thick black locks on the back of her skull. I feel the lump on the back of her head. Fuck little lady, that’s going to hurt when you come to. I feel the sticky blood on the tips of my fingers from where her head has cracked open from slamming into the concrete below us. The smell moves me, the metallic tang captivates the devil living in me.
Bringing my fingers up to my mouth, I taste the sweet blood on them, her blood. My very own angel of darkness, mystery and surprise. Oh, this has my blood pumping, has heightened my desire to get to know her, to be in her. I am only human after all and we all need that sweet release. Even if it's playing with fire, setting souls alight. Alright, maybe I can do more than just fucking cut and destroy.
Scooping her knocked out ass up from the cold concrete, I walk. Pulling her into me, I head for the shop. Red will know if she needs a doc. I sure as fuck wouldn’t have a clue, I’m the one who sends them to the doctors not mends them. I'm still reeling from the tantalizing taste of her sweet blood, it still sits front and center on the tip of my tongue. Fuck, should I have moved her! Shit! Maybe not. Damn, I don't wanna like fuck with her neck and the spinal cord and all that crap. Looking down at her milky white skin, it shines, almost... glows; this woman has captured my whole soul. She’s thawing my cold soul with each look from her glass blue eyes, each flick of her ponytail, each sway of her delicious hips.
Bending down slightly into her, I place my face near her mouth, so I can feel her breath on my skin. I wanna make sure she is breathing, and to breathe in her sweet smell. This woman is all fire and ice. She is a sweet, new addiction that I want swirling in my veins. I'm so surprised by how little she weighs. I could walk with her in my arms like this for miles. I feel every inch of her under my hold, every part of my soul wants to eat this woman. I can’t handle what she is doing to me. She’s thawing the king of death, the Reapers’ in-house tormenter and executioner. Will wonders never cease?
Timberly
I feel as if I'm floating on a blanket of air as clouds and rainbows fill my mind, swirling in and out of a haze. I'm not quite sure where I am, what I'm doing, or just how I came to be here. It has me on edge, nervy and unsettled in a way, but then there is that smell, and that touch. I know these two things. They bring me comfort, even in the dark. Can I have both the feeling of home and warmth but also the dark depths of this horror story I call life?
I don’t feel cold anymore. I feel warm and nice. I realize I can feel the strides of strong steps as air wisps over my face and around my legs then just like that, it’s like a wave of heat and smells, ink and smoke. I know this. I feel the cool of leather under me, it’s firm but nice. I hear my name so softly against my face. This voice is the voice I’ve fallen for, that husky voice, that sexy rasp. He's repeating my name again, over and over, as I try to pull myself up from the dark to the light that surrounds this husky voice who feels like home. He speaks my name again like it’s scripture. It has my heart beating like a drum, no longer a hum underneath the blood orange sun of my dreams. His touch to my skin seems to diminish my insecurities, the vulnerable nervousness and instability that surrounds me like a blanket of deep dark demons feeding on my soul, making me feel alone and inferior in this place of pain.
I feel the weight change and the warmth disappears. No! Don’t go. Don’t leave me. I'm trying to free myself, I'm trying to do better. Wake up! I scream at myself, wake up from this darkness. I know I'm a mess, I know I'm hard work, a challenge, but my heart beats when your touch is near. Don’t give up on me. Please, don’t go. I may not ever get my shit together, but I will try. I can’t not have your stare no longer gracing my body, your hands touching my skin, your voice filling my ears.
I feel it then, light and free, soft and sweet, the smell of ink pulls me from the slumber. Opening my eyes, blinking away the bright fluorescent lighting that is burning into the orbits of my eyes, I go to pull myself up, but the sharpest pain graces the back of my skull like a sledgehammer jacking the shit out of it. “OUCH!” I fall back down, holding one hand to the lump and what feels like a sticky, matted wound, while the other is flung over my eyes, shielding them from that intense bright flicker of light. My head pounds and the gash stings great did I really pass out and crack my head open heat flames my skin as embarrassment washes over mixed tangled with anger. Mortification and humiliation flood me I can’t even handle the awkwardness floating around me right now.
“Timberly, baby?” He whispers. “Timberly, it’s ok, I got you.” His voice cuts through the pain in my skull. “Why am I even here, like where am I? this shit right here is so confusing you really don’t need this sort of drama.” The words are hard to form over my dry lips as I try to sound stronger than I am. “Babe, I'm here. You passed the fuck out hitting the hard ass concrete like a sack of rocks. You whacked your head hard and split it right open, knocking yourself out. I carried you to my shop... this is where we are. You’ve been out for a while now. You had me worried, babe. I got Red coming over to see if I need to put your ass on the back of my bike and take you to the hospital.”
Blinking away pain, and the prick of tears I feel forming at the edge of my eyes, I try to pull myself back up. “Hospital? Hell no. Work? Yes. Away from you? Yes.” I stammer out “I can't be here, it's not safe.” I try to look anywhere but into his stunning eyes. It’s useless, I’m drawn to them.
His hand reaches out touching my shoulder as he slightly pushes me back down. His eyebrows are knitted together and his lips are set in a thick line as his jaw clenches I can see so many unspoken words dance of his increasingly beautiful yet hunted features. I watch him as the butterflies begin to swam it’s all too much and his face tells me so he’s broken like me and we shall walk in circles trying to what fix each other he will let go and I will drown. “Hey, you stay there. Don’t be moving, beautiful. I’ll get you something to drink. Water, coffee, or whiskey? I do have Jager.”
His awkwardness, is oddly settling at less I’m Not the only one her on the edge of panic. I answer, “Water please, water is fine.” With a small tight smile I wonder why I feel so calm right now? Did that fall knock all the sense and fear for the unknown out of me? “And haven’t I told you to stop calling me that?” I say to him casually as if I'm normal.
“What, beautiful? Yeah, babes, you did but I'm a man and I'm not into listening to the fairer sex much.” Flicking me a wink, he heads out the back, through some swinging cowboy bar looking doors. I fall back down putting my hands over my face. What the actual heck am I going to do? He wasn’t in my escape plan but here he is. For what reason I’m not sure. Maybe Odin has put him in my path for a reason.
The sound of his footsteps cut into my thoughts, stopping at the side of me, I can hear his heavy breathing. I slowly pull my arms from my face blinking from the harsh lighting. He holds out a large tall glass of cool water for me to take. I pull myself up carefully onto my elbows, my head aching as I wince back from the pain, he places the water into my trembling hands. I wrap my fingers tightly around the glass as he heads to the end of the long leather couch. He gently lifts up my legs and sits down placing them over his. “Hum mm,” I push out, exasperated at his boldness.
“Yeah doll?” he casually says looking at me from the corner of his eye.
“Um, what are you doing?” I ask, small bubbles of fear rising he is always so close and his touch is laced with a gentle that I can’t seem to control as the spots dance in front of my eyes my emotions run a marathon in spilt seconds each time to touches me I swirl from reality to that of dreams and the thought that I can be a little less lonely with him in my presence.
“Sitting down,” he answers simply, lighting up a cigarette that he pulled from his inside pocket of his leather jacket. He lights the zippo lighter and I watch as he brings it to the tip of the cigarette and sucks in the flame as it flickers amber red, he sucks deep and long. He lays his head back on the couch blowing out the long drag that surely would make a normal person pass out. Smoke swirls around him, it's hot I must say, watching him make smoke ring after smoke ring his lips a perfect O.
“I see that, but you can’t be touching me, it's not good for my panic att-” he cuts me off. My heart stops as my blood stills in my veins how dare he like always cut me off and just carry on like this isn’t making me panic and this situation isn’t at all awkward coz it’s like seven shades of wired.
“Doll, I have carried your beautiful ass in my arms for blocks, smelt your hair, felt ya breath on my skin, and even tasted your blood from my fingertips. Having your legs over mine is gotta be the least of your worries right now.”
Shocked, I sit up further. “You umm...you did what? Really? No one has ever touched me with care before. It's always been in anger and greed.” Shoot, did that come out loud and not in my head? How can I just blurt things out like vie known him forever he steals my pain and takes it away. I feel like I don’t need to fight with him around I can be lost and broken and he eases the anger from the men that have abused me it feels right. Trust and confusion swim together.
“Huh, come again? Say what? Who touches you like that, Timberly?” He questions through a blanket of smoke swirling in front of him.
Shaking, I place the glass of water on the floor after taking a few large gulps. My mouth is suddenly dry. I lay back down bringing my arm up over my face. “Um no one.” I feel him still and tense under me, mentally I berate myself. The feeling of safety all of sudden floats away and I don’t feel so at ease I regret all that has come from my mouth and the thoughts that walk through the walls of my brain. Pity for my shit existence come in waves his hand finds the side of my cheek in one small flick of his fingers he leaves a heat that cools to ice as soon as his fingers leave my skin.
“Timberly, don’t do that.” His voice is clipped with either anger or pain. I'm not sure which, maybe it’s both. “Who hurts you?”
Shifting my arm slightly, I look up at him through my lashes. The tears that I'm trying to hold at bay fall like a goddamn downpour in a rainforest. I can’t stop them. His body moves up under my legs until the backs of my knees are on the other side of him. He reaches down under my back, his hands firm and his touch hot, pulling me up into his strong arms. I start to freak out as the black spots form along with the endless tears, my heart is beating so fast I'm sure it’s going to explode.
“Timberly, stay, baby, stay with me. Don’t you dare pass out again!” he says into the side of my head as it resting on his shoulder against his jaw. His voice sends shivers over my body, the fear running through me like a river.
“I can’t help it, you’re too close, please back up. I don’t even know your name, or who you are?” The dark is coming fast. Why does this happen? I don’t want to leave him. I try to blink back the blackness that's forming around me, fighting to stay here in the present, it doesn’t work.
The dark weighs heavy on me and, just before I pass out, I hear the faintest sound leave his lips. “It’s Ghost, my name is Ghost, and I think I need you.”