LetsKillTonight
October 16th, 2012, 09:34 AM
This piece of my short novel is about 4,000 words long (9 pages) I worked really hard on it and would love some critique! Its about a girl named Rosalyn, who lives in an abusive household. Her mother is a drinker and her father is dead. Her mother's boyfriend, Xander is also a drinker and often beats Rosalyn's mother often.
Introduction--
"You fucking worthless piece of shit!" He screamed angrily as I slammed the bathroom door and locked myself behind it. I knew the spitting remark wasn't aimed at me but it still hurt nonetheless. There was a loud crash of glass breaking and then the tell tale sharp staccato of skin on skin, probably his rough palm colliding with my mother's face.
I'd come home from school and despite the normal teasing and snide remarks I'd made it through the day partially happy. Desmond and Stephanie had sat with me at lunch which was a plus and class had been easy. The day had been pretty good, compared to normal. Well, until I came home at least.
As soon as I'd stepped through the door I heard the yelling. I didn't even stick around to figure out what it was about, I just dashed to the bathroom and forcefully shut the door in an attempt to block out the screams.
They did this all the time, but it still wasn't easy to get used to. There wasn't a day that went by without them fighting, though by the sound of it, this was one of the worst fights they'd had in a few weeks.
My Mother's boyfriend, Xander, was a rage filled man. Even his appearance was full of rage. His dark hair and turned up nose, the spitting image of what I expected the devil to look like. She should have just left him and got a job, but she was the type of women that couldn't keep any sort of job that required sobriety.
My Mom tried to stop with the excessive drinking but every time something didn't go her way she would just fall back into another binge. At the moment her so-called boyfriend and I were providing the main source of income for our also so-called family. I knew my Mom cared, and she tried sometimes, but after Dad died her whole life went to hell and mine was just dragged along for the ride.
She put on a charade of actually loving Xander and caring for him, to the best of her ability in her drunken state, but I knew it was all a lie. She just pretended to love him and actually it was more like a strange and twisted prostitution gig. He paid for our measly existence and he got sex and so-called love. It was sickening, but it was the only way my Mother knew how to live anymore.
"Stay please!" A strangled cry rose from the bottom of the stairs and wafted beneath the bathroom door. "I love you." My mother pleaded to Xander, her pitiful-half-sober voice crying out in despair.
Another slapping sound rang out and then a pained scream. I shut my eyes tight against the noise and my hands unconsciously flew up to cover my ears. I hated it when he hit her. I wanted to take all the pain and force it onto myself. Maybe that was why I'd started cutting, to sort of self inflict some of her pain onto my own body. Or maybe it was just that I needed a physical reminder of how much my life sucked, just a little red gash to reflect my inner pain outward onto my pail skin. Once all of my tears had run out it was a way to cry some more, but instead of salt water, the new tears were drops of blood.
I hadn't taken the blade to my wrist in over a month and the gashes had since faded into red tinted scars across my wrist and fore-arm. There were more there than I'd like to admit, sometimes I found it hard to believe that I myself had caused them, that I could be so cruel to myself.
I pulled up my sleeve and ran my finger across the raised pink lines thoughtfully and winced as the voices outside the door continued and more slaps resounded.
My fore-arm throbbed in anticipation and I contemplated making more gashes. I knew the feeling would be a great relief, but I didn't act on the impulse. I didn't want to harm myself, I didn't want to be that mindless shell of a girl.
I cringed and rolled my sleeve down again to hide the memories. I didn't want to be that Emo chick, scarring up my arms just for the attention. It was never about the attention for me, even when I had done it regularly. The only one that ever knew about my problem had been Stephanie and she never told anyone. It wasn't like I was crying out for someone to notice, more like I was whispering for help in an empty room.
There was the final slamming sound of the front door and then another cry from somewhere downstairs.
I swiftly stood and brushed off the light layer of dust that had collected on my dark jeans, not that it mattered what I looked like. My mom wouldn't care what I looked like even if I was covered in crap. In fact she probably wouldn't even notice.
The stairs creaked as my sneaker clad feet shuffled down them. At the bottom of the stair sat my mother, cross legged with her blonde head in her hands. When my feet hit the hardwood floor she turned to look at me with tears in her brown eyes. She had a bright red mark across her left cheek and I could just pick out the hints of a forming bruise around her eye. The marks were so bright they almost looked like strokes of paint on an artist canvas.
Without a word she stood and walked to the kitchen nearly falling over as she stood in the doorway for a moment. She then disappeared and the sound of glass clinking against glass echoed through the room, and so, she fell into another binge.
She emerged from the kitchen with a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other then paused once more. "Rosalyn, I'm sorry." She stated simply and swirled the booze around in the chipped glass. The liquid whirled and whirled like a tornado, threatening to destroy everything in its path.
I sighed because I knew that as soon as I was gone she would retreat to her room with that bottle of alcohol and drown her sorrow as she always did. This was the beginning of another binge and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I'd tried before to talk her out of it or to help her through it with no success. She just didn't care anymore and it was impossible to help her when she did not want to be helped.
I shook my head then left her, there was nothing I could do to change her mind, though I had tried many times. I jogged up the stairs to get ready for work, I was practically late already and I didn't want to stick around any more and listen to the sobs that I knew would pour out from my mother's room as she drank her tears.
I changed into my work outfit which consisted of a not-so-cute pair of slacks and black t-shirt with a logo printed on it. The words 'Smoothie Cabana' scrolled across the front in bright pink letters. My white long sleeves peaked out from underneath the short sleeves of my t-shirt. I seldom, if ever wore anything with short sleeves, I had many tight long sleeved shirts to go underneath short sleeved t-shirts so I could hide my arms. It looked a bit odd, but I liked it. Not only did I like it, it was sort of necessary.
Having dressed I checked myself in the mirror and threw my blackish hair into a quick pony tail letting a few strands fall around my pail face. I spotted a blunt eyeliner pencil on my dresser and snatched it. It had been sharpened so many times that it was no longer a pencil but rather a nub of stained wood., however it got the job done. I rimmed my glossy eyes carefully with the dark lines, trying not to make the marks too thick. I didn't want to end up looking like a raccoon.
By the time I was done Eyeliner, Mascara and a faint dusting of my favorite Eye Shadow where layered onto my face. I added a bit of lip-gloss which I almost never did, but for some reason I wanted to. Maybe a little glamour would lift my mood.
I stared at the girl in the mirror, she was tall and thin and looked like she could almost pass as 18. Her dark brown eyes met my own identical ones and I blinked a few times to cement the fact that this woman in the mirror and I were one and the same. I caught my own eyes in the reflection once more, my dad used to say that they were the color of dark chocolate. When I was really little he would tickle me and threaten that I was so cute he could just eat me up starting with my chocolate eyes. I missed him and his teasing. Even after his death so long ago I could still remember his laugh and his smile. His white teeth always shone so bright when he smiled and his laugh sounded even brighter.
Sighing, I smoothed out my long pony tail in an attempt to settle the few rebellious frizzles that had popped up. My hair was wavy and hadn't been cut in ages, as a result I had so many split ends that any sort of humidity made the tips of my dark hair frizz.
I shifted my gaze to the clock and figured that if I didn't leave then I would probably lose my job. Maybe if I ran I could make it there and manage to be fashionably late.
I slid on my sneakers and I tied the laces so fast they almost seemed to tie themselves. I ran down the hall then down the stairs and out my front door. I didn't bother to look back at all, I just ran.
The sidewalk had crumbled and caved in some places on my street making it appear almost like the lunar surface. Potholes and craters littered the rough concrete moon-dust, but my feet sailed over them as if I was weightless. I was going to be so late and my boss would definitely kill me. She would roast me on a spit over a burning fire or shove me piece by piece into the largest smoothie blender, I was sure of it. Suzie was just that sort of crazy bitch.
I was so intent on my journey that I didn't even realize the truck barreling towards the street crossing that I was headed for. I didn't hear the rumble of the engine until my feet hit the blacktop and by then it was almost too late.
Chapter One: A Break in the Chain
"Whoa…Whoa! WHOA!" Yelled a voice from behind me but by the time he sound reached my ears I was already frozen with fear. "STOP STOP!" The shout was drowned out as the truck laid on the horn.
The Sound blared into my ears and blocked out everything else. My eyes were fixed directly in line with the grill of the Semi-truck, the chrome blinded me with reflecting sunlight.
I closed my eyes, both against the incessant light and the impact that was sure to follow. Time slowed down and I waited for the pain. I just wanted it to be over with.
Suddenly, through the blackness I felt a pressure on my left arm. Fingers wrapped around my bicep, curling and pulling hard. Then I was falling and time sped up again. I came down, but not on hard cement, instead on something soft. There was an audible, but highly muffled cracking sound and an escalated swearword. Then a gust of wind as the Semi whizzed by. The truck didn't even stop or turn around, it just kept going and the sound of the engine faded away.
My heart was beating loudly but somehow through the thumping I heard the voice again. "Ow. Ow. Holy shit, ow." It mumbled from somewhere underneath me.
I quickly rolled away, not caring that the cement scraped me and then opened my eyes. I was now sitting next to a blonde haired boy. He laid on the ground cradling his arm. His bright eyes were wide with fright
I panted, "Oh-my-god." My tongue shoved the words together to form one and I repeated it over and over until I caught my breath which took a few moments. Meanwhile, the crumpled shape on the ground sat up and winced. His black T-Shirt now full of crumbled sidewalk dust had somehow twisted round during the fall and was now revealing part of his pale stomach. He didn't bother to fix it.
"Are you okay?" I asked in an urgent tone.
"No." He groaned through clenched teeth still cradling his right arm.
"Whoa, is it broken? Oh-My-God I'm so sorry. " I stood then and shuffled over to him. My hands flailed around by themselves as I tried to figure out what I wanted to do.
He uncradled his right arm and immediately made a sort of sighing-moaning-whining sound deep his throat. I only got a glimpse of the damage before he again wrapped his left arm around his right, but it was enough to notice the immediate swelling and bruising, and the strange twist of his wrist. "Don't apologize, its not your fault." He stated plainly after a few deep breaths, then looked up at me. His eyes were the most brilliant shade of blue and I could tell he was in pain by the way they were watering. "Do you have a phone?" He didn't want me to see the tears accumulating in his eyes so he looked down at his arm once more as he asked.
I shook my head first, but then I realized he wouldn't see. "No, why?"
"I just moved here, have no clue where the hospital is, my parents are at work and my house phone is not set up yet." He said, explaining in great detail in an almost angry way. I didn't blame him for being upset though. I would be pretty mad too if I were in his situation though at the moment I was too in shock to really feel anything except the surprise of being overwhelmed by the coincidental craziness of the last fifteen minutes.
I thought for a few brief moments. I could bring him to the hospital, it was only a few blocks away. I'd been there enough times to know exactly where it was. I had been in a hurry to get to work, but after my near death experience, making smoothies just didn't seem important anymore. Plus, I owed this handsome stranger my life. The least I could do was take him to the hospital. I'd figure out what to tell my boss later. "The ER is only a few blocks down, I could take you there…"
He looked up once more in a second of astonishment, but then his nose wrinkled in a wince. "You seemed in a hurry… I don't want to take up your time, wherever you were going it must have been important enough to risk your life for. Just point me in the right direction I'll figure it out."
"You just saved my fucking life and I just broke your arm. I am taking you to the doctor myself even if I have to drag you." I didn't understand why I felt so loyal to this perfect stranger standing before me. Maybe the adrenaline from my almost-crash was still coursing through my veins and it was causing me not to give a fuck about my job or the fact that my boss would surely kill me. Not to mention the fact that I needed the money.
He was surprised by my statement, almost enough to prevent him from speaking. Almost. "Ok, Crazy Girl, lead the way." His perfect nose scrunched up in pain and his eyes watered some more. "No," he answered defensively before I even asked, not that I was going to anyway. "I am not crying, it just hurts a lot."
"I never said that you were." Glancing at the street signs I briefly calculated in my head which route would be the fastest way to take to the ER. After a few seconds I pointed in the direction I had been running. "This way should be the fastest."
"I didn't catch your name." He stated in a calm tone as we set of towards the hospital. Almost too calm for sporting a broken bone. It surprised me.
"Rosalyn. Rosalyn Clark" I said simply. He hadn't caught my name but he had surely caught me.
The blonde boy nodded then flipped his hair from his eyes. Cars were passing by us and giving us strange looks, he didn't seem to notice. "Tyler. Tyler Shimkee."
I was astonished that he was able to speak so calmly even though he was probably in so much pain. Maybe our little conversation was helping to keep his mind off of it, if that was the case I figured that I'd better keep him talking. "Before you said that you just moved here and if you meant 'here' as in, actually here does that mean you were reffering to this street?" My choice of words didn't make as much sense as I'd hoped, but maybe somehow he would understand.
"Yeah I was." He paused and I looked over at him. He walked with a slight limp and I briefly wondered why, but he continued before I could even think of inquiring. " 1121 River Street."
My heart burst into school girlish palpitations and butterflies danced in my stomach. "No way! We practically live right next door!" I squealed in excitement. "I live in the grayish blue house 4 doors down from you."
I glanced over to see a warm smile grace his lips. "Thank God it's a small world."
The ER was surprisingly empty. Madison was a large town and for only 4 other people to be in the large Emergency Room was a very rare occurrence.
I sat in the waiting room while Tyler went in to get checked out. I asked if he wanted me to go in with him, but he assured me that he would be fine on his own.
The light colored walls were incredibly baron except for a few framed abstract paintings. With nothing else to look at, I traced the grid lines on the ceiling. The grooves connected with other grooves, on and on in a seemingly endless pattern. The last time I had been to the ER was over a year and a half before and then I hadn't been conscious enough to even think about tracing the lines in the ceiling.
I had tried to take my own life, but my mother had found me lying on my bedroom floor and called an ambulance. I was barely alive, apparently I'd lost so much blood that my pulse was very weak and when the EMT's arrived they at first thought that I was already gone. My heart stopped completely a few times on the way to the hospital, but my body wasn't as willing to die as my mind was. Everytime my heart stopped it started right back up again within minutes. The doctors never truly had to resusitate me because my heart would restart on its own.
I didn't remember much after I collapsed except a few fleeting memories, but I could never forget the feeling of death. Dying was the strangest feeling a half-alive person could ever feel.
I remembered the exact moment when I was lying on the floor in a sea of my own blood, nothing seemed real. The first thing to vanish was my sight. I had tried to open my eyes, but to no avail and it was impossible to see anything but pure blackness.
I remembered feeling the wetness of my cooling and coagulating blood congealing in my hair and the irony smell and taste of it. Also, the gurgling sound deep in my throat that meant my lungs were Filling with fluids. At that moment I knew that if no one found me my wish would have been granted.
And after all those senses had faded away I remembered the feeling of nothing. Just blissful nothing. No feelings, no senses and no emotions. Well, no emotions except for that of fright. Death was scary.
There is nothing in life to prepare you for the feeling of death. The feeling of complete nothingness was one that I craved to repeat, but at the same time dreaded to feel again.
It was strange to think that I almost died again today. If that boy, Tyler, hadn't been there I would've been dead. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, I'd wanted to die so many times before, but now I felt almost glad to be alive. I didn't wish that Tyler hadn't saved me, in fact I was happy that he had.
A bit later Tyler emerged from the swinging doors that led to the patient rooms. He now sported a splint on his right hand that reached around his thumb then halfway up his muscled forearm. He seemed to have great muscle tone for someone who could break an arm so easily. Maybe he wasn't as strong as he looked.
"So what's the diagnosis?" I asked and stiffly got up from my chair as he sauntered over. I must have been sitting there for a long time. longer than I'd planned.
He shrugged as if it were no big deal and I got the feeling he'd had lots of broken bones before. "Just barely fractured my Ulna."
I rolled my eyes. "You mean I just barely fractured Your Ulna."
He rolled his eyes just to playfully mock me. "It isn't your fault. Seriously."
"So did they give you some pain medication or anything?" I asked, mostly to change the subject, but also because I was slightly curious.
"Um," He hesitated. "They gave me some while I was in there and I have some at home…"
I wanted to ask why he had prescription pain medication at home, but decided against it. That wasn't the type of question someone asked a person they had just met. "Well now that I know you're okay I should probably go…" Goodbyes were always awkward for me.
"You were in a hurry so I suppose you better get to wherever you were going…Thanks for taking me here." He smiled genuinely.
His smile was contagious and I found myself smiling back. " Well, thanks for saving my life." I never though I'd hear those words come out of my mouth.
He chuckled. "Anytime. It was my pleasure, but honestly I'm curious. Where were you going?"
I pointed to the logo on my shirt. "I work at Smoothie Cabana and I was running late."
" I see… Good luck telling your boss this story." He said sincerely. "Not to be a downer, but this day has been pretty crazy and I doubt your boss will believe you."
A chuckle broke free from my lips, if only he knew how right he was. "And that is why I'm not going there after this. I'll probably just call in tomorrow and say I was in the ER."
He nodded. "Well that's not totally a lie. Technically you did go to the ER… So if you're not going to work not then where are you going?"
Tyler asked a lot of questions for someone I had just met, but I didn't really mind. It was nice to have someone so interested in my life. I was about to say that I was just going to go home, but if I said that I would be lying through my teeth. There was no way I was going back to my house until I absolutely had to. "Um… I'm not sure yet."
"I know this might be rather blunt of me, but do you want to go get some StarBucks or something?" He noticed my surprised and possibly apprehensive expression so he continued. "If you don't want to that's fine, I mean why would you want to go get coffee with a stranger. That's weird and creepy and I'm sor.."
I cut him off. "No, no I'd love to go, but you're buying." I smiled flirtatiously and by the time I realized, it was already too late. He was already beaming back at me.
Introduction--
"You fucking worthless piece of shit!" He screamed angrily as I slammed the bathroom door and locked myself behind it. I knew the spitting remark wasn't aimed at me but it still hurt nonetheless. There was a loud crash of glass breaking and then the tell tale sharp staccato of skin on skin, probably his rough palm colliding with my mother's face.
I'd come home from school and despite the normal teasing and snide remarks I'd made it through the day partially happy. Desmond and Stephanie had sat with me at lunch which was a plus and class had been easy. The day had been pretty good, compared to normal. Well, until I came home at least.
As soon as I'd stepped through the door I heard the yelling. I didn't even stick around to figure out what it was about, I just dashed to the bathroom and forcefully shut the door in an attempt to block out the screams.
They did this all the time, but it still wasn't easy to get used to. There wasn't a day that went by without them fighting, though by the sound of it, this was one of the worst fights they'd had in a few weeks.
My Mother's boyfriend, Xander, was a rage filled man. Even his appearance was full of rage. His dark hair and turned up nose, the spitting image of what I expected the devil to look like. She should have just left him and got a job, but she was the type of women that couldn't keep any sort of job that required sobriety.
My Mom tried to stop with the excessive drinking but every time something didn't go her way she would just fall back into another binge. At the moment her so-called boyfriend and I were providing the main source of income for our also so-called family. I knew my Mom cared, and she tried sometimes, but after Dad died her whole life went to hell and mine was just dragged along for the ride.
She put on a charade of actually loving Xander and caring for him, to the best of her ability in her drunken state, but I knew it was all a lie. She just pretended to love him and actually it was more like a strange and twisted prostitution gig. He paid for our measly existence and he got sex and so-called love. It was sickening, but it was the only way my Mother knew how to live anymore.
"Stay please!" A strangled cry rose from the bottom of the stairs and wafted beneath the bathroom door. "I love you." My mother pleaded to Xander, her pitiful-half-sober voice crying out in despair.
Another slapping sound rang out and then a pained scream. I shut my eyes tight against the noise and my hands unconsciously flew up to cover my ears. I hated it when he hit her. I wanted to take all the pain and force it onto myself. Maybe that was why I'd started cutting, to sort of self inflict some of her pain onto my own body. Or maybe it was just that I needed a physical reminder of how much my life sucked, just a little red gash to reflect my inner pain outward onto my pail skin. Once all of my tears had run out it was a way to cry some more, but instead of salt water, the new tears were drops of blood.
I hadn't taken the blade to my wrist in over a month and the gashes had since faded into red tinted scars across my wrist and fore-arm. There were more there than I'd like to admit, sometimes I found it hard to believe that I myself had caused them, that I could be so cruel to myself.
I pulled up my sleeve and ran my finger across the raised pink lines thoughtfully and winced as the voices outside the door continued and more slaps resounded.
My fore-arm throbbed in anticipation and I contemplated making more gashes. I knew the feeling would be a great relief, but I didn't act on the impulse. I didn't want to harm myself, I didn't want to be that mindless shell of a girl.
I cringed and rolled my sleeve down again to hide the memories. I didn't want to be that Emo chick, scarring up my arms just for the attention. It was never about the attention for me, even when I had done it regularly. The only one that ever knew about my problem had been Stephanie and she never told anyone. It wasn't like I was crying out for someone to notice, more like I was whispering for help in an empty room.
There was the final slamming sound of the front door and then another cry from somewhere downstairs.
I swiftly stood and brushed off the light layer of dust that had collected on my dark jeans, not that it mattered what I looked like. My mom wouldn't care what I looked like even if I was covered in crap. In fact she probably wouldn't even notice.
The stairs creaked as my sneaker clad feet shuffled down them. At the bottom of the stair sat my mother, cross legged with her blonde head in her hands. When my feet hit the hardwood floor she turned to look at me with tears in her brown eyes. She had a bright red mark across her left cheek and I could just pick out the hints of a forming bruise around her eye. The marks were so bright they almost looked like strokes of paint on an artist canvas.
Without a word she stood and walked to the kitchen nearly falling over as she stood in the doorway for a moment. She then disappeared and the sound of glass clinking against glass echoed through the room, and so, she fell into another binge.
She emerged from the kitchen with a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other then paused once more. "Rosalyn, I'm sorry." She stated simply and swirled the booze around in the chipped glass. The liquid whirled and whirled like a tornado, threatening to destroy everything in its path.
I sighed because I knew that as soon as I was gone she would retreat to her room with that bottle of alcohol and drown her sorrow as she always did. This was the beginning of another binge and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I'd tried before to talk her out of it or to help her through it with no success. She just didn't care anymore and it was impossible to help her when she did not want to be helped.
I shook my head then left her, there was nothing I could do to change her mind, though I had tried many times. I jogged up the stairs to get ready for work, I was practically late already and I didn't want to stick around any more and listen to the sobs that I knew would pour out from my mother's room as she drank her tears.
I changed into my work outfit which consisted of a not-so-cute pair of slacks and black t-shirt with a logo printed on it. The words 'Smoothie Cabana' scrolled across the front in bright pink letters. My white long sleeves peaked out from underneath the short sleeves of my t-shirt. I seldom, if ever wore anything with short sleeves, I had many tight long sleeved shirts to go underneath short sleeved t-shirts so I could hide my arms. It looked a bit odd, but I liked it. Not only did I like it, it was sort of necessary.
Having dressed I checked myself in the mirror and threw my blackish hair into a quick pony tail letting a few strands fall around my pail face. I spotted a blunt eyeliner pencil on my dresser and snatched it. It had been sharpened so many times that it was no longer a pencil but rather a nub of stained wood., however it got the job done. I rimmed my glossy eyes carefully with the dark lines, trying not to make the marks too thick. I didn't want to end up looking like a raccoon.
By the time I was done Eyeliner, Mascara and a faint dusting of my favorite Eye Shadow where layered onto my face. I added a bit of lip-gloss which I almost never did, but for some reason I wanted to. Maybe a little glamour would lift my mood.
I stared at the girl in the mirror, she was tall and thin and looked like she could almost pass as 18. Her dark brown eyes met my own identical ones and I blinked a few times to cement the fact that this woman in the mirror and I were one and the same. I caught my own eyes in the reflection once more, my dad used to say that they were the color of dark chocolate. When I was really little he would tickle me and threaten that I was so cute he could just eat me up starting with my chocolate eyes. I missed him and his teasing. Even after his death so long ago I could still remember his laugh and his smile. His white teeth always shone so bright when he smiled and his laugh sounded even brighter.
Sighing, I smoothed out my long pony tail in an attempt to settle the few rebellious frizzles that had popped up. My hair was wavy and hadn't been cut in ages, as a result I had so many split ends that any sort of humidity made the tips of my dark hair frizz.
I shifted my gaze to the clock and figured that if I didn't leave then I would probably lose my job. Maybe if I ran I could make it there and manage to be fashionably late.
I slid on my sneakers and I tied the laces so fast they almost seemed to tie themselves. I ran down the hall then down the stairs and out my front door. I didn't bother to look back at all, I just ran.
The sidewalk had crumbled and caved in some places on my street making it appear almost like the lunar surface. Potholes and craters littered the rough concrete moon-dust, but my feet sailed over them as if I was weightless. I was going to be so late and my boss would definitely kill me. She would roast me on a spit over a burning fire or shove me piece by piece into the largest smoothie blender, I was sure of it. Suzie was just that sort of crazy bitch.
I was so intent on my journey that I didn't even realize the truck barreling towards the street crossing that I was headed for. I didn't hear the rumble of the engine until my feet hit the blacktop and by then it was almost too late.
Chapter One: A Break in the Chain
"Whoa…Whoa! WHOA!" Yelled a voice from behind me but by the time he sound reached my ears I was already frozen with fear. "STOP STOP!" The shout was drowned out as the truck laid on the horn.
The Sound blared into my ears and blocked out everything else. My eyes were fixed directly in line with the grill of the Semi-truck, the chrome blinded me with reflecting sunlight.
I closed my eyes, both against the incessant light and the impact that was sure to follow. Time slowed down and I waited for the pain. I just wanted it to be over with.
Suddenly, through the blackness I felt a pressure on my left arm. Fingers wrapped around my bicep, curling and pulling hard. Then I was falling and time sped up again. I came down, but not on hard cement, instead on something soft. There was an audible, but highly muffled cracking sound and an escalated swearword. Then a gust of wind as the Semi whizzed by. The truck didn't even stop or turn around, it just kept going and the sound of the engine faded away.
My heart was beating loudly but somehow through the thumping I heard the voice again. "Ow. Ow. Holy shit, ow." It mumbled from somewhere underneath me.
I quickly rolled away, not caring that the cement scraped me and then opened my eyes. I was now sitting next to a blonde haired boy. He laid on the ground cradling his arm. His bright eyes were wide with fright
I panted, "Oh-my-god." My tongue shoved the words together to form one and I repeated it over and over until I caught my breath which took a few moments. Meanwhile, the crumpled shape on the ground sat up and winced. His black T-Shirt now full of crumbled sidewalk dust had somehow twisted round during the fall and was now revealing part of his pale stomach. He didn't bother to fix it.
"Are you okay?" I asked in an urgent tone.
"No." He groaned through clenched teeth still cradling his right arm.
"Whoa, is it broken? Oh-My-God I'm so sorry. " I stood then and shuffled over to him. My hands flailed around by themselves as I tried to figure out what I wanted to do.
He uncradled his right arm and immediately made a sort of sighing-moaning-whining sound deep his throat. I only got a glimpse of the damage before he again wrapped his left arm around his right, but it was enough to notice the immediate swelling and bruising, and the strange twist of his wrist. "Don't apologize, its not your fault." He stated plainly after a few deep breaths, then looked up at me. His eyes were the most brilliant shade of blue and I could tell he was in pain by the way they were watering. "Do you have a phone?" He didn't want me to see the tears accumulating in his eyes so he looked down at his arm once more as he asked.
I shook my head first, but then I realized he wouldn't see. "No, why?"
"I just moved here, have no clue where the hospital is, my parents are at work and my house phone is not set up yet." He said, explaining in great detail in an almost angry way. I didn't blame him for being upset though. I would be pretty mad too if I were in his situation though at the moment I was too in shock to really feel anything except the surprise of being overwhelmed by the coincidental craziness of the last fifteen minutes.
I thought for a few brief moments. I could bring him to the hospital, it was only a few blocks away. I'd been there enough times to know exactly where it was. I had been in a hurry to get to work, but after my near death experience, making smoothies just didn't seem important anymore. Plus, I owed this handsome stranger my life. The least I could do was take him to the hospital. I'd figure out what to tell my boss later. "The ER is only a few blocks down, I could take you there…"
He looked up once more in a second of astonishment, but then his nose wrinkled in a wince. "You seemed in a hurry… I don't want to take up your time, wherever you were going it must have been important enough to risk your life for. Just point me in the right direction I'll figure it out."
"You just saved my fucking life and I just broke your arm. I am taking you to the doctor myself even if I have to drag you." I didn't understand why I felt so loyal to this perfect stranger standing before me. Maybe the adrenaline from my almost-crash was still coursing through my veins and it was causing me not to give a fuck about my job or the fact that my boss would surely kill me. Not to mention the fact that I needed the money.
He was surprised by my statement, almost enough to prevent him from speaking. Almost. "Ok, Crazy Girl, lead the way." His perfect nose scrunched up in pain and his eyes watered some more. "No," he answered defensively before I even asked, not that I was going to anyway. "I am not crying, it just hurts a lot."
"I never said that you were." Glancing at the street signs I briefly calculated in my head which route would be the fastest way to take to the ER. After a few seconds I pointed in the direction I had been running. "This way should be the fastest."
"I didn't catch your name." He stated in a calm tone as we set of towards the hospital. Almost too calm for sporting a broken bone. It surprised me.
"Rosalyn. Rosalyn Clark" I said simply. He hadn't caught my name but he had surely caught me.
The blonde boy nodded then flipped his hair from his eyes. Cars were passing by us and giving us strange looks, he didn't seem to notice. "Tyler. Tyler Shimkee."
I was astonished that he was able to speak so calmly even though he was probably in so much pain. Maybe our little conversation was helping to keep his mind off of it, if that was the case I figured that I'd better keep him talking. "Before you said that you just moved here and if you meant 'here' as in, actually here does that mean you were reffering to this street?" My choice of words didn't make as much sense as I'd hoped, but maybe somehow he would understand.
"Yeah I was." He paused and I looked over at him. He walked with a slight limp and I briefly wondered why, but he continued before I could even think of inquiring. " 1121 River Street."
My heart burst into school girlish palpitations and butterflies danced in my stomach. "No way! We practically live right next door!" I squealed in excitement. "I live in the grayish blue house 4 doors down from you."
I glanced over to see a warm smile grace his lips. "Thank God it's a small world."
The ER was surprisingly empty. Madison was a large town and for only 4 other people to be in the large Emergency Room was a very rare occurrence.
I sat in the waiting room while Tyler went in to get checked out. I asked if he wanted me to go in with him, but he assured me that he would be fine on his own.
The light colored walls were incredibly baron except for a few framed abstract paintings. With nothing else to look at, I traced the grid lines on the ceiling. The grooves connected with other grooves, on and on in a seemingly endless pattern. The last time I had been to the ER was over a year and a half before and then I hadn't been conscious enough to even think about tracing the lines in the ceiling.
I had tried to take my own life, but my mother had found me lying on my bedroom floor and called an ambulance. I was barely alive, apparently I'd lost so much blood that my pulse was very weak and when the EMT's arrived they at first thought that I was already gone. My heart stopped completely a few times on the way to the hospital, but my body wasn't as willing to die as my mind was. Everytime my heart stopped it started right back up again within minutes. The doctors never truly had to resusitate me because my heart would restart on its own.
I didn't remember much after I collapsed except a few fleeting memories, but I could never forget the feeling of death. Dying was the strangest feeling a half-alive person could ever feel.
I remembered the exact moment when I was lying on the floor in a sea of my own blood, nothing seemed real. The first thing to vanish was my sight. I had tried to open my eyes, but to no avail and it was impossible to see anything but pure blackness.
I remembered feeling the wetness of my cooling and coagulating blood congealing in my hair and the irony smell and taste of it. Also, the gurgling sound deep in my throat that meant my lungs were Filling with fluids. At that moment I knew that if no one found me my wish would have been granted.
And after all those senses had faded away I remembered the feeling of nothing. Just blissful nothing. No feelings, no senses and no emotions. Well, no emotions except for that of fright. Death was scary.
There is nothing in life to prepare you for the feeling of death. The feeling of complete nothingness was one that I craved to repeat, but at the same time dreaded to feel again.
It was strange to think that I almost died again today. If that boy, Tyler, hadn't been there I would've been dead. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, I'd wanted to die so many times before, but now I felt almost glad to be alive. I didn't wish that Tyler hadn't saved me, in fact I was happy that he had.
A bit later Tyler emerged from the swinging doors that led to the patient rooms. He now sported a splint on his right hand that reached around his thumb then halfway up his muscled forearm. He seemed to have great muscle tone for someone who could break an arm so easily. Maybe he wasn't as strong as he looked.
"So what's the diagnosis?" I asked and stiffly got up from my chair as he sauntered over. I must have been sitting there for a long time. longer than I'd planned.
He shrugged as if it were no big deal and I got the feeling he'd had lots of broken bones before. "Just barely fractured my Ulna."
I rolled my eyes. "You mean I just barely fractured Your Ulna."
He rolled his eyes just to playfully mock me. "It isn't your fault. Seriously."
"So did they give you some pain medication or anything?" I asked, mostly to change the subject, but also because I was slightly curious.
"Um," He hesitated. "They gave me some while I was in there and I have some at home…"
I wanted to ask why he had prescription pain medication at home, but decided against it. That wasn't the type of question someone asked a person they had just met. "Well now that I know you're okay I should probably go…" Goodbyes were always awkward for me.
"You were in a hurry so I suppose you better get to wherever you were going…Thanks for taking me here." He smiled genuinely.
His smile was contagious and I found myself smiling back. " Well, thanks for saving my life." I never though I'd hear those words come out of my mouth.
He chuckled. "Anytime. It was my pleasure, but honestly I'm curious. Where were you going?"
I pointed to the logo on my shirt. "I work at Smoothie Cabana and I was running late."
" I see… Good luck telling your boss this story." He said sincerely. "Not to be a downer, but this day has been pretty crazy and I doubt your boss will believe you."
A chuckle broke free from my lips, if only he knew how right he was. "And that is why I'm not going there after this. I'll probably just call in tomorrow and say I was in the ER."
He nodded. "Well that's not totally a lie. Technically you did go to the ER… So if you're not going to work not then where are you going?"
Tyler asked a lot of questions for someone I had just met, but I didn't really mind. It was nice to have someone so interested in my life. I was about to say that I was just going to go home, but if I said that I would be lying through my teeth. There was no way I was going back to my house until I absolutely had to. "Um… I'm not sure yet."
"I know this might be rather blunt of me, but do you want to go get some StarBucks or something?" He noticed my surprised and possibly apprehensive expression so he continued. "If you don't want to that's fine, I mean why would you want to go get coffee with a stranger. That's weird and creepy and I'm sor.."
I cut him off. "No, no I'd love to go, but you're buying." I smiled flirtatiously and by the time I realized, it was already too late. He was already beaming back at me.