A Moment's Reprieve

A Chapter by Demyra

2) A Moment's Reprieve

I skipped school, and headed home, torn between being both afraid, and being pissed off. I was afraid of what else she could know about me, and pissed that she had the audacity to read me. I look at the worn door, the paint was chipping. I let myself in, but I stopped at a sudden, though late and obvious realization-I was afraid.

I was afraid of her misconceiving me, I was wary of her, like I'd never been of any since my parents. This feel...it seemed new to me. It was a rush...it was fun.

It helped me realize something. If I care what she thinks, I'm vulnerable. I care too much by caring at all. I don't know why, but I felt a cross of joy, and fear now. I didn't want to abandon her, somehow I felt close to her. I knew there were risks of staying around her, though.

"Damn this!"

I scream, unaware that I'd done so until I heard the drone of the echo return to me. I surprised myself...I never gave people, at least not a single person this much thought. I never felt the desire to scream, I never felt the pleasure that I felt with her, never truly smiled until earlier with her. My childish dream to be with her suddenly turned into something more. She wasn't the basic crush, not the average pretty face anymore that I'd had a three year crush on.

Suddenly, I yearned for her more than ever. If not as a lover, a friend...or just for her to be there. I wanted her presence. Her beautiful smile filled my thoughts. It wasn't like any other, this was true. It was gentle, and heartwarming. Just picturing her beautiful smile made me smile again.

I walk into the bathroom, still smiling, and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair fell from my face, and revealed the gash. My smile fades as I see it, redden and swollen. I look at my black lips, and dark eyelashes. Why? Suddenly, I'm angry with myself. I made it a point to look as freakish as possible, but why? Am I trying to hide from myself? How did she see it, when I didn't? I washed off the makeup, and saw what it was I thought I could hide, subconsciously. I saw the burning hatred in my eyes, that was disguised by mascara. I looked like a normal person, depressed and hurt...vulnerable, and insecure with themselves. I took the finger less gloves from my hand, and saw the scars going down my wrist. Suddenly, I felt ugly. I immediately scratched off the nail polish.

"Why am I hiding?"

I realized something: There was nothing to try to hide, anymore. I don't need to hide behind a mask of makeup, and there was no purpose in hiding just to keep others at bay. I wasn't disgusted with myself like I used to be, I felt no need to drag a blade along my vein until I felt dizzy from blood loss, and I thought I understood why I’d been disgusted with myself. I knew subconsciously that I hated myself. My face, my eyes, and my person altogether. It was loathsome seeing myself in the mirror for what I was. I’d given up on life, and was too weak to end it. I wasn't angry now, I was disappointed with myself.

At least now I have a new purpose, something to look forward to. But first, I've got to appeal to her. What will she think of me while I'm behind a veil of mascara, except that I'm the common f*g? One who thinks their life is impossibly hard, and who always talk s about how miserable they are. I am NOT an emo.

I wasn't cutting my hair. I started to put it into a ponytail, but I felt something in the neck of my shirt as I lifted my arm. I found a piece of folded paper...a phone number written inside. I smile, realizing what it was. Maybe she's already seen beneath the makeup, and saw me for what I was as a person. Not only did she see me, she acknowledged it, and saw into me more than I'd ever seen into myself. Surely she trusted me enough to give me her number. "Maybe she feels the same," I think to myself.

For the first time in years, I thought about myself, I reflected on the way I ran away from myself, and soon grew disgusted again with the person in the mirror. I went into my room and lit the candles again. I can't afford the high cost of constant power, so I used as little as possible. I picked up my phone, and dialed her number, and I heard the phone ring 5 times before I'd hung up. She was still at school.

I didn't eat lunch, and so I fixed myself a sandwich. I'd currently been wearing a black T-Shirt with some band on it, and I didn't bother to change, despite the bleached portion of the shirt. I finished m small lunch, and went to sleep.

Things were the common...I stepped into the restaurant, with my makeup on. In this case, I wear it in defiance of a judgmental co-worker, Jeff. My loose hair is a little past my shoulders, and I'm wearing finger less gloves. I see his annoyed face as I step in, and I know I've already gotten under his skin.

I pull my hair back into a ponytail and take off my gloves. He doesn't give me his quirky a*s false smile I usually see as I approach him. He doesn't say a word to me, except that I was late. I could tell by his exhausted appearance that he'd just come from school, and was pulling my part for a while...I over-slept. He was pissed with something, but I didn't care. We worked side by side, but didn't say anything to each other. I handled taking orders, and he got them. When his shift ended, I went and pulled him into the back, near the freezer. His pouting attitude was bad for business, and the bitchiness was pissing me off, just as well.

"Hey Jeff, what's with you?"

He glares at me angrily, like I'd just pulled the last straw.

"You think you're funny, don't you? You dirty m**********r!"

For a moment, I start to yell back at him, but I catch myself. The customers might've heard me.

"What do you mean?"

"You went and jumped on my lil' bro, cuz' you were too damn scared to fight me, didn't you!? That was low man. That was very f****n' low."

He's in my face now, and I'm doing all I can to keep my cool. Who was he to tell me I was 'lowly'?

"How the hell am I supposed to know he's your brother?"

He catches the front of my shirt and pulls me forward. I waited an eternity plus for this...

"Watch your f****n' mouth, stupid f**k. I'm doin' all I can do to avoid beating the f****n' s**t outta your b***h a*s!'

I catch his throat and push him into the wall, no longer biting my tongue.

"I say that every f****n time I see that face of yours!"

"Then try me, you f****n’ f****t!"

I clench my fist as hard as I can as he stupidly moves his hand up to my throat. I'm ready to beat him until there's no movement left in that s****y little body of his...

"Hey! What's goin' on back here, d****t!?"

It is the manager, Mr. James. I let go of Jeff, but our eyes didn't budge from each other.

"Nothing happened, Mr. James. I'm sorry, sir."

"Mr. Canther, your shift is over. Why are you still here?"

"I was just on my way out, sir."

Jeff glares at me, then walks out. Wary of our manager, I try to walk past. As I'd been expecting, he puts a hand on my shoulder, indicating for me to stop.

"It isn't good to work in a bad mood, you want the rest of the day off?"

"No sir. I need the money, cuz’ I fell behind on bills again."

As my uncle, he knew what I'd meant. He saw the piece of s**t I call a house already. His penetrating eyes saw through my mascara as well, and he was the one who called the cops on his own sister to save my life, so we shared an unnatural link, I suppose...

"Just take the day off, I'll pay you."

"Thanks..."

"And, I think it's time to lay off Mr. Canther."

As much as I hate Jeff, I couldn't do that. He was in the same boat, after all.

"No, that won't be necessary, sir."

I let my hair down as I walk from the back. I then see 'her' sitting in the side of the restaurant, by a window. She looked bored, yet she gave off a tranquil feeling to me. The feeling passed instantly as I realized she might've come here, knowing I was here. I don't know what she knows, but I know she knows more about me than I do about her.

"Alexia? Why are you here?"

I felt like a f*****g retard again. I wasn't sure that she heard me. Her lovely figure was slumped across the table, her hair over her shoulders, and to the center of her back. In the regular sleeveless shirt she wore, she still managed to seem lively...maybe it's the fact that it was pink that helped. She wore a semi-long reddish skirt, contrast to the fact she always wore blue jeans to school. When I think of it, this was the first time she wore something different from a white, blue, or red shirt and blue jeans that I've ever witnessed myself. Being the first time I saw her in a skirt, I was mesmerized at how much more beautiful she was. So mesmerized, I didn't acknowledge that she was sleeping...at least for 10 seconds. I didn't realize it till I saw her gentle, slow breathing.

I leaned in closer to her face, pondering if I should wake her, and at the same time, wanting to kiss her. I guess I accidentally chose the first option, since, as I pulled away from dreamily admiring her face, her eyes opened slowly. As she realized there was a face in front of her, she snatched backwards, and slammed her foot into my crotch. I dropped like a rock as I felt the pain from my legs, into my stomach. I had to gasp for air, and I wanted to cry I forgot about beauty, I forgot about fear...all I knew was pain.

"D****T! HOW COULD THOSE TINY A*S LEGS HIT SO F****N' HARD!?"

I lay there, squirming and raving to myself, before I heard her.

"Uhh...you're...Alex? Sorry..."

I was aware that she was a bit groggy, but still in agony, I could only respond with more swearing. I was fully aware I'd drawn a crowd by now.

"I swear, I think one popped!"

I hear her laugh at me, and I turn red with humiliation.

"It's NOT funny!"

She tries to hide it, but she was laughing. Hard. She could barely stop laughing to speak now, only adding insult to injury.

"I'm so...sorry! I...I didn't know you were--"

"If you're sorry, then stop laughing!"

Humiliated and annoyed, I weakly climbed to one knee, using a chair as leverage. I slowly sit in the chair, though obviously not upright. The pain was a strong ache, weakening my legs and most of my torso, but it wasn't as strong as before. She smiles cutely at me, and while it warms me, I still pout.

"Are you OK now?"

"No. Am I still in leg reach?"

"Hey, how many times can I apologize?"

She tilts her head lightly to the side, casting an inquiring gaze.

"What were you doing, anyway? And why're you even here?"

"I work here, what about you?"

"My mom made me come with my older brother."

"Why? Can't he take care of himself?"

She shakes her head 'no', "He'll get drunk..."

It then dawned on me that we sell alcoholic beverages.

"He can't help it. He's obsessed with the stuff, I think. He's typically a nice guy, but drinking brings out the worst of him."

"I said I'll f****n' pay you back, d****t! Just gimme another'n!"

I look over to see a big man...a VERY big man talking to my uncle, he was swaying ever so slightly, occasionally losing his balance. My uncle had one hand under the counter, and I knew what he had. I turn to Alexia, to see that she was already out of her seat, pondering to herself rather she should go over there or not, probably.

I ask her, "Do you think he'll swing?"

"More than likely, he hardly ever keeps control of himself...he might do the old man in if we don't stop him."

"If he does swing, he's dead tonight. That 'old man' keeps a revolver under that bar."

I watch her face change from frustration, to fearful realization as I finish speaking. She starts to run for her brother, as do I, but for different reason. There was no way she could stop him, and he wasn't of sound mind. There was no way I could let him turn on her.

I heard my uncle say, "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave, sir."

He reaches across for my uncle, but Alexia grabs his arm with everything in her.

"Get the f**k off me, w***e!"

He grabs her by her hair, and I grab his other arm. I felt it jerk slightly, but I knew he'd stopped on his own, not by my hand. He turns to face me, his eyes reddened, his face swollen.

"You f**k with this w***e, I'll bet." Mind our own, scrawny lil' f****r."

He pushes me back, by what he may have thought was light, but I felt it strain my neck like severe whiplash.

"All I want's A F****N' GODDAMNED DRINK!"

He still has her in his hand, as she wasn't struggling, to avoid pulling her hair. I stopped for a moment to ponder how drunk he was.

"Just gimme one more drink, old man an' I'll leave, I promise!"

"Ack-Damon, let go!"

He looks down at Alexia, both confused and amused. "The hell you doin' down there?"

"Just open your damn hand!"

He looks at his closed hand in confusion, then realization, and lets her go.

"Hey sis...I'm broke. Can I borrow five bucks?"

She looks at him harshly, "Wasn't I just a w***e?"

He blinks twice. "Uhh...you were?"