Page 7 of Save Her


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“No,” I murmur, kicking my foot on the ground as exhaustion and hunger overwhelm my system. The last thing I want is to look weak in a building with strangers, so I hold my shit together the best I can and focus on the sound of my falling apart sneaker squeaking on the shiny concrete. “I’m happy with anything.”

“Alright, son. I’ll be back in no more than fifteen minutes,” Finn rumbles out before kissing his wife on the cheek. “You should rest a bit more while you wait. Poppy will be puttering around so just ask her if you need anything. There’s also a bathroom in the front of the building if you need to use one.”

Poppy nods along, pointing to a door just past the metal ice cream cones to indicate what Finn is talking about. Finn leaves through that same door as Poppy starts fiddling with stuff on all of the machines, humming a tune to herself as she goes. After a bit, I head towards the front to find the bathroom, my bladder screaming at me now that it’s been noticed.

All of my stuff comes with me, in case this is all a ruse and I need to leave quickly. They don’t give me any bad feelings, but the truth is that even though I can normally tell these things with decent accuracy, the price of being wrong is high. The hope flaring inside of me that I’m right though, is hard to ignore. A bathroom, kind strangers, and food? It’s too good to pass up, even if it turns bad.

When I finish up and step out of the bathroom, Finn is already walking in with bags and drinks, a small, relieved smile on his face when he sees me. Placing all of the stuff on a square wooden table in the room, he gestures for me to grab what I want as he walks to the back to presumably find his wife.

Diving in I grab two hot egg and sausage sandwiches and a carton of chocolate milk. Pushing myself into a corner to avoid anyone coming up behind me, I scarf the first sandwich down and half the milk just as Finn and Poppy come back in. They smile at me, each taking their own food and drinks and sitting to eat at the table.

“Dear?” Poppy calls out to me as I stand there holding my empty wrappers and milk. “Come grab what’s left over so you can take it with you. It’s always good to have some extra food on a journey.”

“It’s your food,” I explain, shaking my head as I toss out my garbage and start getting ready to leave.

“No, son. It’s yours,” Finn says, packing the rest of the food into a bag and handing it to me with two bottles of water. “You take care of yourself. If you ever need help, we want you to come back here. You’ll always have a warm place to sleep and food. Whatever you’re fighting, you don’t have to do it alone.”

Holding back the tears, I grab the bag of food and water, shoving it into my bag and hiking it over my shoulder with my bag. Whispering thank you, I run out of the building, tears falling down my cheeks at their kindness. They don’t know how broken I am. They don’t know the darkness that hides inside of me, infesting my scars and wounds with pain and anguish. They don’t know, and yet they still offered me a life saver.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand this world and the good and evil that lives in it.

Chapter Five

4 Years Later

As I lie here, my sore face pressed into the cold, hard pavement beneath me, I contemplate just letting the two assholes behind me finish me off. It's been four years of shelters and streets, with no end in sight. The longer I'm out here, homeless and lost, the less it seems people care. At first, people looked at me with sympathy and understanding, maybe a little pity, but they were kind. Now? I'm looked at like gum stuck to the bottom of their shoe, just annoyance and disgust.

It's not my fault that showers are hard to come by and my clothes have seen better days. I'm not strung out on drugs, looking for my next fix. I'm a man who's been down on his luck since the day he was born. Every day I fight like hell to survive, to find basic necessities, and to stay out of the way of bad people. I don't want to do it anymore. What am I even fighting for? There's no reason to survive beyond the fact that I feel obligated to.

Spitting out some of the blood pooled in my mouth, I wince as I pull my sticky, bloody face off the concrete, preparing to face the two drug dealers again. Pushing myself up, I stumble as I turn to look at the two dipshits who think it's funny to beat people up. They grin at me, cracking their knuckles for show, letting me know how much they enjoy the thrill of the fight. Shaking my head, I drop down to my knees and numbly state at the ground as I wait for the next punch. There's no point to any of this, and I'm done fucking trying.

"Get the fuck up," the mouthy asshole sneers, shuffling his feet in front of me. "You little pussy ass bitch! Get up and fight!"

The other guy kicks me hard in the ribs, the pain reverberating throughout my entire body. Still, I simply fall over, not even giving them the satisfaction of a reaction to it. My only hope is that they're super fucked up and go for the kill. Morbid fucking hope, but that's the only kind I have left. There's no room for any other kind of hope when this is the fucking life I'm living. Some days when my head is super fucked up from all bad thoughts and overwhelming numbness, I wish I was still back in that hell house. At least then I would be with Alayna, and I would have something light and happy in my life. Even if the rest was so fucked up, it still makes me break out in a cold sweat at the memories.

"This guy's not worth our time," the mouthy one sighs in disappointment, his friend cursing and hitting the wall in response. "Let's go find someone else. Not this pathetic lump of shit."

Curling in on myself as they walk away, that final insult rolls around in my mind, repeating itself in every previous tormentors' voice. Worthless. Pathetic. Unlovable. It's what I am, everyone that meets me can see that. There’s not a single part of me that isn’t broken and scarred. My value was depleted before I was born and every single day since then, I’ve been a burden on this god-forsaken planet.

Time passes as I lay there, not a single person stops to check, their eyes avert the moment they see that I’m alive. The only way I’ll matter again is when I die, and I’ll only matter long enough to be cleaned off the fucking street. There’s no point in going on, there’s no point to my fucking life. Why can’t it end? Why do I keep fighting to survive? What’s the point?

Eventually, I peel myself off the ground, the dried blood on my face and clothes making it hard to walk out into the public eye. Taking off my sweater, I wet it in a nearby puddle and wipe at my face, doing my best to get all the blood off. My only mirror is a cracked window in the alley, I have just enough light to make out my face.

Switching into my only other sweater, I grab my bag and guitar, thankful I stashed it behind the dumpster when I heard those two coming. With my hood up and my eyes downcast, I walk into the street, the early evening sun creating a beautiful array of orange, pink, and yellow clouds in the sky. It’s not quite twilight yet, but it’s almost there.

Since I’m still alive, I might as well keep my tradition alive and head to the fountain in the park for the twilight hour. Twilight was always Alayna’s least favourite time of day because she said it let the shadows in. It became my favourite time of day because it meant I could help her. Every day that we weren’t already in the basement of torture, I would pull out my guitar and sing to her, or I would just hold her and tall her it would be okay.

Now that she’s no longer with me, I keep her memory alive in me by singing songs meant for her during the twilight hour. It brings in a small amount of money and helps me pass the otherwise depressing time.

The park is moderately busy for a Thursday around dinner time. Hopefully that means a little extra cash today. My beat up face won’t help things very much though. Not that I’m doing this for the money, that’s just a bonus. This is for Allie Cat, the only person that ever saw the real me through all the bad shit. She is, and forever will be, the only one I showed the entire me to.

Setting up at the edge of the fountain, I drop an old hat in front of me as I pull my guitar out. After a quick tuning, I look up at the sky and soak in the violet skies and bring up Allie’s face in my mind. Starting with a few covers of songs I’ve learned, I sing my heart out, pouring every little piece of who I am and who I want to be for her, into my performance.

Picturing her sitting in front of me, cheering me on, I move on to the songs I wrote just for her. The songs that come from the places that still hold a little of her light. The darkness in me is spreading, but when I imagine her, that light holds strong, keeping me together and here. This is why I fight for survival. This is why I’m still fighting after all this time. Alayna Morgan made me a fighter, even when I feel like a failure, because I will always fight for her, even just the memories of her.

“If you could only see,

The light you shine all over me.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com