|
4
Dec 19, 2010 1:35:39 GMT -5
Post by Turn 360 and walk away on Dec 19, 2010 1:35:39 GMT -5
"Hon, can you take Ashley today? I'm up to my eyes in work, and..." A woman, looking less frantic than she let on, with shoulder-length red hair, stood with her hands on her hips. The man she was talking to was standing with her in the mudroom that separated the back door from the kitchen, a sort of tool room-slash-laundry room-slash-storage room that was drab, gray, and comparably unloved if you walked to it from the other side of this mild-mannered suburb home. The man wearily nodded his head and shook himself awake. He was wearing a blue button-down shirt, dark blue slacks, and dress shoes. His breast pocket was adorned with a gold-colored shield, reading "precinct 27" and "Keene Park Police Dept." in emblazoned letters. The man stepped through the door into the brisk chill of the Maine springtime, and waved a good-bye at the woman. A young girl, couldn't be much older than 7 or 8, greeted him at the door in a parka-coat, apparently having overheard the conversation and gotten herself ready. "Hi Daddy!" she burst, trying to surprise him. "Heya, kiddo! Mom wants me to steal you away for a little while today. Mind?" She smiled and nodded enthusiastically. "C'mon, I bet I can beat you to the car!" Good-humored laughter bounded from the yard as the two raced to a police cruiser parked awkwardly at the curb, one tire up on the sidewalk. "Where are we going, Daddy?" He icy blue eyes studied the officer for an answer. A wisp of dark hair fell from her forehead and she giggled as she pushed it back, away from her face. "I bet I can think of a good place... Hmm..."
Turns out, Robbie's was always a good place. Roberto owned a convenience store not far from the house, and he always had an ice-cream counter ready to go (not 31 flavors, but it's better) and he loved throwing in an extra scoop at no extra charge for the little tykes. The pair waved to Robbie as they exited the store, bells on the door tink-tinkling as it opened and shut. Happily licking her cone of ChocoSplosion, Ashley looked up at Daddy and laughed as he tried to clean some of his ice cream off the tip of his nose. "How's yours, Ashley?" "It's GOOOOOOOOOOD!" She said wide-eyed, with the same sheer excitement of a Mennonite discovering the internet. "Did you pick good, Daddy?" "MMMm-mmmmmm." he grunted back, crunching down onto the cone. "Good," Ashley replied, matter-of-factly. A car was driving down the road, revving it's engine fairly high as it climbed a small incline. Daddy didn't pay much attention to it, but flickered his eyes at it for a moment before going back down to his treat and his daughter. "Lookidat!" Ashley said with ice cream dripping from her mouth to her chin, pointing at the car. He did, just in time for the passenger, a dark-skinned man wearing a red bandanna over his nose and mouth, to lean out the window with a small gun. Daddy pushed Ashley down and away, but was met by the attacker's spray of bullets from a machine pistol. The car drove away. Ashley got up, totally unaware of what just happened, but entirely sure that it was bad. Her ice cream was sitting, abandoned, on the asphalt. She crawled to her scraped knees and looked at the limp body lying in the gutter. Blood smeared her neck and face, none of it hers she didn't think. Her blue eyes shimmered, shimmered and drowned in silent tears. She turned back to the only place she could think of, Robbie's at a measly 50 feet away, and looked back at her father. He was still screaming, it seemed, glassy eyes bugging out and mouth wrenched open in silent agony. Ashley sobbed, her breath hitched, and then she cried some more, until sirens came. The noise hurt her ears and the light, magnified by her lament, burned her eyes. Someone in a white shirt put Daddy on a bed. Another one came over and lifted Daddy into the back of an ambulance. They were shaking their heads as they felt around daddy's face and neck. A man in a dark suit put his hand on Ashley's shoulder, she yanked away harshly. He sat down beside her, and breathed, heavily and slowly. Ashley's eyes had long ago dropped to the ground to avoid the strange man, and tears still pooled on the pavement and hung on the tip of her nose like a snapshot. He tried to talk, she ignored it. One of the men in white shirts draped a blanket over her shoulders. Eventually Mommy came, someone called when they saw their coworker, or their boss, or someone, lying in the street. Policemen were gently walking around the area, it must've been one of them. She took hold of her and hauled her up onto shaky legs, like a newborn deer's, and got her into the car. It sped out of sight as soon as she was in.
|
|
|
4
Dec 20, 2010 4:45:25 GMT -5
Post by Turn 360 and walk away on Dec 20, 2010 4:45:25 GMT -5
Keene Park had grown too big for it's own good, most of it's inhabitants had decided. It seemed like a Stephen King novel, a town not big enough to find on a map but big enough to have some notably big issues. Gangs, drugs, standard big-city stuff, just, not in a big city. There was a time when there were only two roads that led into town, Route 95 and US 202, which turned into Main street at the city limits. Even now, those were the two heaviest used roads in and out. Those times have long since gone, and tourists, "leafers" they came to be known because they show up for about a week to watch trees it seems, could probably name 3 or 4 ways into town. Talk to a new resident, or someone who owns a seasonal home, and you'll hear as many as 6. Of course, full-time Keene Parkers could get up to 10. One Ed Stanley, at the ripe old age of 105, used to be ale to name 25 roads. Some were old trails, others were side streets that paved too far, most were off-shoots and vein of the 202 that wormed their way through the northern limit of the Appalachians. Of these, we had the standards (A street, and 10th Street), the holy roads (God Creek trail was the only route to a hillbilly moonshine town a little to the west, and by "only," Ed meant only), Other ones like Sparkling Avenue and Great Lake Drive, both bold-faced lies as to what you would see and where you were going, as they both circled back into the 95. Ed didn't know that much any more, though. Senility had totally taken his mind about three years ago. he was the holder of the oldest resident award, but didn't know what that meant. The local newspaper used to annually interview him, but stopped when he tried to kiss the poor lady who interviewed him on that last time, 4 years ago last month. Now, Ed's having a good day when he makes it to the commode without spilling some little bloody marbles into the seat of his pants. Every once in a while, usually when no one's around to testify that he still had a brain, he'll get a shining in his eye and remember back to when he was 15 and working in the steel mill. He built this town from to ground up, literally, and he won't be leaving it any time soon, it seems. Even if the kids all make fun of him. Even if life sometimes seems like it's not worth the shit he has o put up with to keep it. And then he'll lapse back into the far-away glare of senility and wonder when his wife, 11 years dead, will be back with the groceries.
___
10 years ago, Ashley was a scared little girl with deep blue eyes and dark hair, sitting lifeless in the street, in front of a little family-owned shop. Today, Ash is a 17-year-old kid with cornsilk-blonde hair and icy eyes, trying to figure out how the fuck to survive high school, in the lobby of a little, crappy family-owned shop. The ice cream counter she hated was taken out to make room for a convenience-store hotdog warmer, nacho thing, and hot sandwiches, and Ash was grateful for that because that was breakfast and sometimes supper. Roberto was still behind the counter, still a greasy slimeball Cuban. "Hey Robbie..." Ash said tiredly, trudging through the doors (an electric ding-dong replaced the bells about 5 years ago, but who's counting?) and right into the line at the nachos. "Ashley! Been a long day I see?" "Sort of..." "Well, get something to eat. It will make things better. Bueno!" "Thanks, Robbie. What's the damage?" "Oh, Ashley, it's on the house. Ever since, well, you know..." "Is that why you're letting that punk steal all your issues of 'Jugs'?" "What?" "That is why you have this mirror?" Ash pointed to a dome-shaped mirror right above Robbie's head, where she pretty clearly saw a kid in baggy sweats hanging out in the magazine aisle. "Hey you!" Robbie bounded around the counter. Ash reached over the counter and found a pack of Marlboros and palmed some lottery tickets for good measure, with a quiet "Thanks." ding-dong
|
|
|
4
Dec 23, 2010 3:01:26 GMT -5
Post by Turn 360 and walk away on Dec 23, 2010 3:01:26 GMT -5
School. Great. Crowded hallways, filled with people. Lockers, all a faded, murky brown color, slamming as students pull their things out of the little cubby. The tiles on the floor were a reddish hue, not so much to match the lockers, but close enough to make it feel like they wanted the school's colors to be mud. Ash's heals click-click-clicked down the linoleum floor as her heal slid forward, one after the other, in worn-out old Chucks. She pulled a white hoodie over her head and leaned on a locker with a loud thunk. Across from her, digging for a specific textbook, was a long-haired brunette in a red cardigan and acid-washed jeans. "Ashley!" "Naomi!" "Ash!" "Envy!" Naomi was her first name, Victoria was her Middle. thus, "NV". Cute, huh? Ash pulled a cigarette out of her newly-stolen pack and lit it with a flick of her wrist. She offered one to Envy, but Envy just plucked the lit one out from between Ash's parted lips and took a drag off of that, before returning it to her. Life progressed as usual. Mr. Dunne in history was an ass, Mr. Hettinger once again proved to everyone but himself that he was a flaming homosexual, The school rent-a-cop dragged Ash here and there as part of her disciplinary supervision BS. Mrs. Whitman was okay, at least, she thought, she fell asleep about 5 minutes into class. Eventually lunch came around. "Hey, prick, what you got for lunch?" Ash stood over a freshman, putting on her most intimidating face and staring the kid right in his eyes. He didn't answer, and she punched the locker he was cornered against. He threw a PB&J his mom made at her, and she let him scurry away like a rat. She quietly munched it while she made her way to the cafeteria, where Envy would be buying some sort of salad, or something, and they could bullshit for a few minutes before finishing up the day. Ash found a relatively empty bench seat and stretched to take up as much room as she could, while she huddled greedily over her half sandwich. Her thin frame didn't do much for brooding, but it kept the seat clear. Envy sat down quickly, jumping on top of a box of chicken nuggets like a starved animal. "Hungry?" "Short on time today." Was her answer between chomps. "Where'd you get that?" "Brought it," Ash started munching away, "What's your hurry?" "Need to take this make-up test or I'll fail the semester." They both rolled their eyes. "Well, whatever." "Eh," they both shrugged. Envy jumped up and wheeled around to face the door, crashing into some black kid carrying his lunch tray to a table. The spook was short, even by petite Ash's standards, and looked absolutely pissed. Envy turned around and half-apologized as she darted through the double doors. He sat down to eat whatever was left, and lunch came and went without any further events. Ms. Georgia (here's Home Ec., yay...) and Miss Maria to pound some remedial Spanish into Ash's skull. Coach Donner was, as usual, pretty decent (even if Ash was sure he only worked here to check out the nubile young girls in short shorts) and, finally, English class, where a substitute who's name sounded like "Garfield" but wasn't, had the class read silently for the whole period. Ash slept again, and woke up harshly from the bell sounding. She slung a beat-up sack over her shoulder and joined the mob of leaving teenagers. The line got faster and faster until it was pulsing forward towards the center of the school. The short spook was there, along with four of five of his circle, more spooks and spicks, and they were stomping and kicking someone on the ground. The short spook's shirt might have been ruined by the slur of dark sauce and soda, that looked a little like a candle flame if you used your imagination, and with a dead horror, Ash knew what was going on. She pushed through the crowd, who were now in varying waked of "oooh, ahhh" and laughing, until she was behind the short spook. Envy was huddled on the ground in acute agony. her nose was streaming blood, and skin was broken all across her body and face, evidenced by spots of crimson across her clothes. The source of the amusement seemed to be that she pissed herself, and all the fucking monkeys were laughing at that when they weren't kicking her. Ash grabbed the short spook by the hair and threw him down, into the puddle of blood and piss he started. His cronies closed in on her, two held her arms as a third stood in front of her immobilized body. The fourth stayed behind to finish Envy off. Sensing the escalation, the mob of students dispersed, until the fight was between them and them alone. The spick standing in front of Ash punched her hard, in the gut, and she immediately folded on herself. The short spook got up and put his boot, a big, olive-colored combat number, into her ribs. Ash could hear some popping with every impact, but she was too busy trying to stop it by blocking her body with her hands to actually take stock. Soon the kicking stopped. Ash was vaguely aware of sobbing at her feet. Envy was still here. Ash could feel a warm spot between her legs, but didn't care. The sobbing stopped, and was replaced by shrieks of sheer, bloody terror. She was vaguely aware that Envy was saying "no", and again vaguely aware that a dark, cardigan-shape lump was tossed and landed someone near her head. "Stoooop..." Ash moaned out weakly. "Stoooooop... Stop it. Stop! Stop it! STOP!" Ash yelled with every part of her that she still had. A roughly jeans-shaped shadow fell above her face, blocking the sun from Ash's view.
|
|
|
4
Dec 24, 2010 3:10:00 GMT -5
Post by Turn 360 and walk away on Dec 24, 2010 3:10:00 GMT -5
The sun was blotted out, but whatever was in front of her face didn't fall. Ash couldn't see very well through her teary eyes, who's vision was going to black and red around the edges, but it seemed to stop moving. The screaming might have stopped, or slowed, or Envy might have just been gagged, or Ash's ears might have been beaten beyond repair, but it was almost silent, just ghost-noises like a ringing in her ear. Ash dragged herself out from under the shadow with the heals of her shoes, stifling her pained moans in case maybe they haven't seen her. She immediately noticed two things. One, was that no one noticed when she sat up with an uneasy wobble, the other was that the dark mass that was hanging above her head was, in fact, clothing and was, in fact, frozen in the air. "Am I... dead?" she mumbled as she closed her eyes tightly and opened them, expecting the scene to make more sense to her. "What happened?" She stood up and walked over to the short spook who also, as intuition already told her, was taking hold of Envy in a very unflattering way. Tears, like diamonds, were stuck in place on her face, frozen, mid-drip, on her chin. The fear in her eyes was evident in this snapshot, as much as the hate in the monkey's was. Two of the goons were walking away, one was waiting to go towards where Ash was laying, and one was loitering, not coming or going, but leaning against the wall. No one seemed to be going anywhere, though. Against her rational mind (as if any of this wasn't), she reached out and touched the short spook, brushing against the side of his neck with her fingertips. The sound came back like the blast of a bomb. The goon yelped in confused frustration at Ash, who slipped right under his nose. Envy was shrieking and the short spook was lying on the ground, taking his turn to wail in some sort of parody of the pain he was inflicting. The two goons at the scene ran for it. Officer Jack was sprinting from the other side of the school, and pushed Ash and Envy out of the way to get to the monkey. He called in to get an ambulance and held the monkey's head still. When Ash and Envy tried to move away, he snapped at them and they promptly to a seat. Ash removed a second layer of clothes (her shirt had been a bit see-through so there was a tank top under it) and handed it to Envy with a knowing nod.
The sirens were fading away from the school. Envy was draped in a blanket to cover herself. Ash's bag had become the laundry bag and most of everything was in there. Envy was puffing on a cigarette and Ash was using the phone at the main office. "Hi, Mom?" "Ashley? I saw it's the school, where have you been? It's late!" "Long story. Envy and me need a ride, can you come?" "Yeah, yes, yeah, no problemo. Can you hang on for ten minutes?" "That'd be great." Ash hung up, and flashed a thumbs-up at Envy who nodded shakily. She looked at her backpack. It would be fine, as was her first shirt. Being white, bleach-ll do it. Both pairs of jeans will need a serious scrub-down and some stitching, and Envy's shirt was long gone. As for the rest, it's all an easy replacement. Envy's face showed the perfect definition of hate. Of the world, of everyone, of herself. Ash put her arm around the other girl's shoulders, "We'll get him. Don't worry, he'll get what's coming to him." Envy jumped up, "Shit Ashley! They'll kill us! You're fucking insane! No, NO NO! This is the fucking end of it!" Ash nabbed the half-smoked cigarette from Envy's mouth and stood up, "You can't let them win." "They did. And I don't want to think about this any. More." "No, I'll do it. Someone's gotta teach them a lesson." Officer Jack walked outside, to where the girls were sitting. He carried a couple travel mugs of what he assured them was hot chocolate. He sat down across from them and handed them the mugs. "What do you want?" "Just to talk, Naomi." "Yeah, alright." Envy sat back down with Ash. "Ashley, I need to hear you girls' side of this. Now, don't you both talk at once, but if you two can tell me your side of the story, it'd really help me figure this out." "You already talk to them?" Ash said with venom. "Yes, but I can't share what they said." "It's not like I'm new to this, Jacky." "I didn't know it Naomi-" "I am, and I'm not talking right now." She crossed her arms and laid against Ash, exhausted. Ash had a sip of the hot cocoa, which did make her feel a little better, no matter how much she wouldn't admit it, and told him, "They attacked Envy. I can't put it better than that, but by two minutes after the bell, she was already in bad shape. Maybe they waited for her to need the bathroom or some shit. All of them were there when I showed up. I pulled the, uhh, short one, that was on the ground, away-" "And that's when he hurt his neck?" "I don't think so, he was back up pretty quick. Then they got on me and started doing that," she motioned pretty generally to Envy as a whole, "to me. I blacked out, and when I got up, that's when you found me -- us, found us." In a disgusting parody, Mom finally showed up just as Officer Jack was patting Ash on the shoulder, and she jogged up and helped them both up as the uniformed man strode away. "Envy, I called your mom. She said she didn't mind if you stayed with us tonight. it is a holiday, after all," was the first thing out of her mouth, and it wasn't until everyone was securely in the car that she began asking questions about what happened. Ash shook her head with a deathly seriousness and it got dropped, in lieu of where they wanted to go for some pizza later.
|
|
|
4
Jan 1, 2011 22:41:42 GMT -5
Post by Turn 360 and walk away on Jan 1, 2011 22:41:42 GMT -5
Ash, Envy, Ash's mom, and her brother were all grouped around the table. Her brother, Andy, was only a couple years younger than her, the product of the baby-will-make-it-work relationship. Well, Andy fucked that up, and Mom's still single. Ash scooped the pizza to her mouth and took a modest bite to test it's temperature. She was silent, but her eyes darted around the table. "So," Mom ventured, "good food?" Everyone nodded silently, except Envy, who also breathed an "uhn-huh" between bites. "Girls," Again, Mom awkwardly began, "Andy, please go in the other room." "Mom..." "Andrew." "Fiiiine." "Girls, what happened. Do you need any help?" "It's okay! I'm good with kids!" Andy, fucking retard punk, screamed from the other side of the house. "Really?" Mom looked towards Envy and Ash with alarm. "Yeah-" Envy began. "Well, no," Ash finished. "I mean..." "But no..." "No," they decided at the same time, "it stopped before that... could happen." "Well?" Mom pushed on. "Ms. Portman, we're fine." "Envy, we're not." "But we will be," She looked reassuringly at Ash, "And we just hope that this thing will go away." "Alright girls." Mom nodded in defeat and went back to finishing her pizza. Andy re-entered the room, considering the break in conversation reason to come back to his food. "You should name the baby after your dad." "Andrew!" Mom dragged him away, leaving the girls to sit quietly.
___
Friday left like that, as did Saturday and Sunday. Every morning, the girls would wake up stiffly, look to see if they were healing, take a bath in some Neosporin, and go out and do shit to spend time out of the house. When they got tired of doing their nothing, they'd go through the motions at their homes, go to sleep reluctantly.
Monday.
|
|
|
4
Jan 17, 2011 4:26:45 GMT -5
Post by Turn 360 and walk away on Jan 17, 2011 4:26:45 GMT -5
That Monday would have been multicultural day, but emergency cuts narrowed the displays down from a courtyard of "unique and universal people, places, and events" down to a handful of unenthusiastic booths, staffed by unenthusiastic kids working for a couple points extra credit. Ash went to China to get her hands on the fortune cookies mostly, but the chinks wouldn't let her take a cookie without doing the activity. She walked away with the Chinese ideogram of "power" painted onto her backpack, or it could have been "spicy tuna roll", who knows? Envy was in Africa, idly toying with mancala stones while the booth worker showed off a "traditional Zulu celebration dance", or it could have been dance steps off of Youtube, who knows? "C'mon, Envy, period's almost up. the dick in the uniform'll get all pissy if we're out here for any more than one class," Ash tossed a cookie at her, and then began reading her fortune out loud, "A true friend is a treasure not easily found, and not easily hid once you have it," followed by a parenthetical, "Cute." Envy cracked her manila folder cookie open and thumbed at the slip of paper inside, "You have a great power that you do not use." Ash laughed, "What?" "I dunno, but I'm kind of insulted," despite the words, Envy grinned. She slung a bag over her shoulder and began heading towards her class, Algebra. Ash waved and struck out to Spanish.
"Ash, could you come in here?" She was walking passed a hub in the building, where all six guidance counselors sat. "Ms. Marshall?" "I just wanted to talk." "Could you walk with me, then? I need to get to this class... It's a test." Ash pulled some bullshit excuse out of her ass. "Fine." Ms. Marshall stood up and fell into formation with Ash. Ash's guidance counselor, and honestly one of the few people Ash liked around school, Ms. Marshall had a the somber eyes and knowing smile of a woman who was barely out of high school herself. She found it easy to connect with her kids, and Ash was grateful for that, she guessed. Cropped, red hair curled in just below her jawline, which was as sharp and defined as the rest of her face. A small, upturned nose help small glasses that she liked to gaze over when she was confiding in her kids. With heals on, she was about the same height as most of the men on staff, and liked dressing almost as "daring" (as they would call it) as the girls in the hall. "Ms. Marshall?" "I told you, you let me call you Ash, you can call me Steph. or would you prefer Miss Portman?" She smiled mischievously. "Ash, please. Anyways, Steph, what was it?" "I just wanted to discuss these tests you have coming up." "Yeah, sure. Shoot." "Are there any of them you don't feel ready for? your grades are improving, but a lot still rides on these tests." "Well -" Ash was cut short. The short little spook was standing in the middle of the hallway, looking like a lost Special Ed. kid in his neck brace. "Hey, little bitch!" Steph put her hand on Ash's chest, as if to hold her back, "What is it, Lionel?" "Was I talking to you?" "Hey, whoa, just get to class." Ash was watching the monkey intently, despite feeling a desire to flip the bird and walk away. The spook's hands reached into his pockets, and a black glimmer shone in his eyes, and in his hand. "Lionel, what is that?" "Shut the fuck up." The hallways were still crowded from passing, even though it felt like it had been longer than 5 minutes. "Lionel! HELP! WEAPON ON CAMPUS!" "Bitch!" The spook pulled out a small handgun and fired at the blonde standing terrified in the middle of the hallway. "STOP!"
And Ash opened her eyes. She uncurled herself from a protective stance, arms folded into her chest, hands in front of her face, and took her first breath in what felt like hours. In front of her was a block dot, suspended inches from the tip of her nose. She yelped and fell backwards, hitting hard against the floor below her. It was a bullet, alright. Ash stalked up to the spook and admired the firearm for a second. A bloom of fire was at the muzzle. She tried to touch it and immediately withdrew, sticking a burnt finger into her mouth. She looked at Steph, the spook with a shitty name, back to Steph. Ash was vaguely aware of what happened by now, although the mysteries never got solved, just less opaque, over the past couple days. It still scared, still haunted her, but also, was controlled by her. She measured and prepared herself for what was to come, and with a fervor spawned from watching too much kung fu movies, pistoned her fist right into the chest of the spook, covered her ears at the inflow of sound, and sprinted away before yelling "Stop!" once more, like a frightened cat, running away from her problems. ____
"We need help!" "Get an ambulance!" "Help! Ms. Marshall's been hurt!" "Shot!" Who knows what the hell happened to Lionel, who might not be breathing, but Stephanie Marshall was clutching her side in moaning fits, as blood soaked into her sweater.
|
|
|
4
Feb 12, 2011 2:14:58 GMT -5
Post by Turn 360 and walk away on Feb 12, 2011 2:14:58 GMT -5
The Foxxxy club was the biggest club on the east side of the city, if not for stature (it sat in an cramped old warehouse) then for customers. The entire city was there, it seemed like, on Saturday nights. Mostly guys, gathering around one of the stages with a few bucks in one hand and a cold one in the other, just looking to blow off some steam. Of course, any bar could have a stripper. What really brought the droves in was a man that sat in a booth in the far back of the room, through the smokey air and throngs of people. He was a fat and balding man that lounged with his sandal-clad feet on the table, always looked disinterested, and wore the same white tank top and jeans no matter where he went. His greasy, dark skin shined in the misty neon of the club. Thick ropes of dreadlocks hung off of the back of his head and passed his back, and his face was shielded by a pair of reflective sunglasses. He was a big shot. he made it. He left his family in El Salvatore when they kicked him out, and they're still picking fuckin tomatoes. And he made it. Jose Sevilla made it. Sevilla was the ringmaster of a three-ringed circus of prostitution in the city. He took the calls and took the cash, and sent all the pretty girls out. "Jaylynne? Hey baby, how's it going?" Jose cooed to a girl who just took a seat next to him. He moved his feet off of the table and moved in real close to the girl, putting his arm around her waist, "Been keeping yourself busy?" her lips trembled slightly when she spoke. Her pale skin was a shocking contrast to the El Salvatorian, and she accentuated her pallor with black lipstick and heavy eye liner and shadows that matched her raven hair and slutty-Halloween-vampire-costume attire. "Yes sir. I have." "Ayiyiyiyi. What did you do, honey? You're all hurt again." He roughly grabbed her hand and twisted it to see her inner arm and wrist. "I slipped," jaylynne's eyes trailed away. "Doesn't matter, you have a job. He's important!" Jose gave the woman a 3X5 notecard with a name and address scribbled across it. She took it between her thumb and first finger and held it like a plague-borne blanket, "but, this is, He hurt me last time.... he hurt me so bad..." "And you fucking got over it," Jose said tenderly, " and you will go to that address. Is that so bad to ask?" "I don't want to get hurt again..." Jaylynne's voice grew small and timid. Jose hit her face with the back of his hand and stood up, knocking the table over with a thud that couldn't be heard over the sounds of the club, "Do I look like I fucking care? Get this bitch out of here before I have to send our man a fucked up little cunt instead of a pretty one." The woman was escorted out by two guys, and another stood around like he got lost, "And you!" Jose added, "Go into her fucking dressing room and get rid of anything that has a fucking edge. If I go in there in 15 minutes and see a piece of fucking paper, I'll lock you in my trunk and drive the fucking car into the ocean. I'm fucking sick of having to babysit this bitch." ___
Ash bolted up the stairs running on instinct alone, unsure of what just happened and unsure of what will happen, but sure that whatever she was doing was what was supposed to happen, like someone else was controlling her body. She couldn't hear much beyond her own breathing, but continued running up the stairs, one flight at a time, in a trashy apartment building. Once she made it to the door she wanted, with a trembling hand she grasped the handle and turned it quickly. The light thrown into the room penetrated into the darkness of the room like a dagger, revealing a disheveled bed and a collapsed nightstand. On the bed laid a very handsome man. Obviously cared about his appearance, regularly trained at a gym, spent an hour to get the perfect curl in his hair. His body was flayed open in front of Ashley. It looked like a pack of wild cats had torn at him, cutting the man into giblets. It smelled like sex and sweat and death. Ash dropped to her knees and did her best to not get sick as her body was overcome with the smell, the sight. She heard another person breathing as she collected herself, on her hands and knees on the sticky floor. Ash's breath caught in her throat. The other breathing continued. Ash looked for it's source, but saw nothing in the murky darkness of the room.
|
|
|
4
Feb 14, 2011 0:29:54 GMT -5
Post by Turn 360 and walk away on Feb 14, 2011 0:29:54 GMT -5
Ash crossed her arms in front of her chest to brace herself against the water. The Atlantic was frigid any time of the year, and today was no exception. She had been walking for a while, the school seemed like it was eons away, and she felt hot and sweaty. Her clothes hung on a tree branch not far behind her and she only kept on the bare minimum, just in case; was she invisible, or did other peoples till see her? Ash stepped into the water and marveled for a moment at how it didn't sink. She had to push down and stop moving for the foot to sink, like the water was solid. And again with her other foot. She tried to scoop some water into her hands but couldn't get under the water to pick any up. She collapsed in exhaustion and hysterics, and cried on the edge of the still water. What had happened? She almost died. She had no idea where she is. She can't even play in the fucking water. She glanced at her watch through blurry eyes, and scolded herself for being so stupid, crying about it. Instead, she took a labored breath and thought for a minute about stupid things, like those funny pictures with the cat and the caption, about how she'd really like to have her iPod right now, about how this... wherever she is... must be that dimension where anime characters keep their mallets. The thoughts distracted her mind and she took another look at her watch. The little colon between the numbers on the digital display blinked like normal, and after some intense staring, she concluded that every minute, the watch moves a minute. Certainly, time's moving the same for her, maybe? Where is she? When is she? She wandered. How does she leave without hurting someone? Minutes passed. So did hours. What happened to Ms. Marshall -- Steph? Is she okay? How about Envy? Did the little fucking spook get what he deserved? Are the police looking for her? Is Mom looking for her? Does anyone even know she left? Has anyone noticed that, in the -- Ash checked her watch -- two days she's been gone? Envy, probably. Ash cried again, and called herself stupid through the tears again. As they left her face and dripped away, they froze in the air. She decided to bed down. Couldn't go home, police and everything. Couldn't go anywhere. She found a cardboard box and put it in the corner of an alley, behind a dumpster. She could feel the ground through it, but it was something. She woke up when the rim of the sun was on the horizon. The orange triangle of light hued the water a purple color. She was hungry. Turns out, she was still in Keene Park, just, on the other side of it. When she left, she followed a rode out of town that looped back into town a ways away. her straight line was just a really big circle and she was too distraught to notice. She wasn't too familiar with this side of the city, but it was covered in suit-clad businessmen and condos, so it must have been where all the town yuppies go. The day went as it usually did. She wandered a bit, dug for food, and laid on her mat whenever she wasn't.
Ash's watch said it was Sunday, though, that didn't mean much, and she didn't know what that meant to anyone else at this point. She'd grown used to this accidental lifestyle. The aloneness was probably the hardest part. Even though she had sucked it up and broke someone's collarbone what felt like a week ago, she didn't go home. Mostly, she was afraid. Of what they would say. It was nice, at least, to get to listen to some conversation. She'd made friends with other vagrants in the area, and that was also nice. No amount of creepy old men could replace Envy, but it was a start.
|
|
|
4
Feb 20, 2011 3:00:16 GMT -5
Post by Turn 360 and walk away on Feb 20, 2011 3:00:16 GMT -5
It was a long night. Ash spent some time thinking, and some more time thinking about what she thought. It was mostly shallow, teenage-girl thoughts, but once in a while she'd have an epiphany. She'd gotten used to the regular time again. It took a couple days to remember that the sun actually sets at night, not just hangs there like a spider on a silk thread. She'd developed another skill to help her get along, too. Handily, it was also quite easy to do in a neighborhood like this. All the suits are gone from eight to five every day without change. Which leaves their condos nice and empty. It was two-thirty according to her watch, which was set by the sun after she got out of what she started calling "hyperspace". Ash pulled a canvass bag over her shoulder and scaled one flight of stairs, then two, then three, and four, reaching the last floor below the pent houses. She picked a door at random and jiggled the handle. It wasn't open, but the door swung free enough even locked that Ash guessed the deadbolt wasn't engaged. With a knowing smirk, she dug through her pockets and came to a small rectangle of plastic - a credit card her Mom had given her for "emergencies only" in a lifetime before this. She jammed it under the door jam and then between the frame and door itself, twisting the handle as she tried to fit the colorful little key under the latch. A small triangle of pink jutted out of the side of her mouth as she concentrated on getting in. One last shove and the card opened the door. The release of pressure was enough that she stumbled forward and barely caught herself before collapsing. The door creaked a little as it was first opened, but the hinges realigned and the noise stopped easily. The crooked door closed itself behind Ash, the hinges catching and squeaking again. The place was dark enough that Ash had to let her eyes adjust before she went anywhere. Even so, three steps into the doorway, glass crunched under her foot and she bent down to pick up a picture frame. the glass was fractured worse than what Ash thought she had caused; it was on the floor because someone wanted to break it themselves. In it was a handsome young man in a tuxedo, with shaggy hair and scraggly facial hair. Looked like he belonged on a surfboard. In his arms, he held a woman with short red hair. Ash grinned a little. They looked so happy. She missed that feeling. She continued the walk-through anyways, avoiding anything else scattered across this slob's floor. Some light filtered through the windows in the back rooms as the sun sunk a little lower in the sky, and through the streaks of light, Ash really could see that whomever owned this place liked to live in a dump. It was trashed. She moved back, and stopped at the end of a short hallway. Her breath caught in her throat and her legs felt heavy. She bit her lip and listened. There was noise coming from the bedroom on her right. Cursing herself silently, she entered the half-closed room, and saw nothing. A door further through the room held whatever kept the noise, that sounded like sloshing. There was no light coming from under the door. She crept to the door, slowly twisted the knob, and pushed it open. The bathtub was full, but it didn't seem like it was occupied. She felt for and flicked a light switch, shielding her eyes from the sudden invasion of light.
For the second time, Ash couldn't breath. Steph Marshall was lying in a full tub of red-dyed, tepid water.
|
|
|
4
Feb 28, 2011 3:18:09 GMT -5
Post by Turn 360 and walk away on Feb 28, 2011 3:18:09 GMT -5
Shaky arms were crossed in front of Ash's chest, and were mirrored in Steph, laying on a gurney across from her. Mrs. Marshall had been unconcious for only a few moments, and was lucid as she was being checked over by the paramedics. Ash followed them downstairs, and the police followed Ash. "I told you, I checked in because she was a friend. F-R-I-E-N-D." "I understand that, ma'am." "So can you leave me alone?" "I'm not allowed to - in an emergency situation, an officer must stay with any involved minors." "Gee. Thanks. You are really helping out here," Ash leaned back to see Steph. The paramedics were bandaging her. Ash cringed and flinched away when she saw a bandage on her side, about big enough to cover a small wound, and freshly bled. "Ma'am, do you have anyone to call?" Steph replied, "N-noooo..." she dragged the last letter out like a ghostly sigh. "I can stay with her," Ash volunteered, "please?" The officer's radios crackled to life, and even though Ash couldn't make out what exactly was said, both officers replied and nodded, looking at each other, "Fine. you keep on her. We have a report down the street. We'll be right back." Ash didn't respond, verbally or physically, but watched as the cops ran away all the same. Steph was leaning against the wall, clutching her side. The two looked at each other for a brief moment, and Ash got under one of Steph's arms and helped her into her apartment with the disabled elevator. _____
"Honey, why don't we go on vacation? Go on vacation, then move. We can go out to the country for a few days, then you can transfer out of this slum school you're working at, huh?" An easy-going man sat, straddling a bar stool, "I have plenty of money saved up and my cousin has a cabin up in the hills." "You know I couldn't do that." "Come on, Steph, why not? Why can't you take some time to unwind?" "Not the vacation, Danny. That does sound wonderful. What I can't do is leave." She tensely paced the kitchen, throwing dishes around as she cleaned up a little. The man, Danny, got behind her and started rubbing her shoulders. She responded by rolling her head back and kissing his cheek. he whispered, "why not?" "Because," She whispered back, "the kids need me," Stephanie Marshall walked away from her surfer-looking boyfriend and out to door, to her car to start the morning.
"Look what happened! LOOK!" Danny, scrubby-looking and furious, stomped back and forth in the apartment. He held the phone to his ear tenuously at best as he spat into it. "Honey, please... ohhh, please, remember the vacation?" "Look, I've put up with a lot of shit for you. A LOT. But I'm sick of you fucking trying to get yourself killed!" "I'm not!" Sobbed from the other end of the phone. "Yes you are! And I won't stand by you while you try to kill yourself damn it! Fuuuuck, Steph, listen. I need a break. We need a break. Call me when you're ready to move on with your life." Despite his words, he took crazed vengeance on the things lying around the apartment, punching and kicking and throwing anything in arm's reach. His hand found a picture in a little black frame. It was taken a couple years back, of both of them, in Santa Monica. At the request of Danny's family, they spent 2 weeks in southern California, all up and down the coast. With tears in his eyes he flung it at the ground and walked out of the door, into a taxi, and down the road.
Steph was sitting slumped over in her wheelchair. She could hold herself up easily, but after the phone call she just endured, didn't want to. The next day, she checked out and got driven home. Even though the phone rang and rang all night (She called frequently) and only went to voicemail, she was hopeful. She wheeled herself into the elevator, and opened the door to their apartment. the laghts were off. It was a mess. And it was empty. Steph immediately fought through the debris into their bed and slept uneasily. After 14 hours she woke up. The pillow was soaked with tears, she had bled through the bandage, and she felt like crap. Steph sat on the edge of her mattress for what felt like forever, but eventually got around to getting into the bathroom and ran a bath. On her way passed the counter, she grabbed her razor and removed the head.
Ashley sat next to Steph now, as she told the story. She shivered and whispered, "I'm so sorry." Steph shook her head and gazed vacantly at the floor. "Ms. Marshall?" Still gazing shakily.
|
|
|
4
Mar 28, 2011 1:26:09 GMT -5
Post by Turn 360 and walk away on Mar 28, 2011 1:26:09 GMT -5
Ash breathed deep and closed her eyes as she pondered what would happen next, what her next step should be. When she opened them, Steph was no longer staring, but her head sunk into her hands and tears slid past her fingers and down her arms. It was silent in the room. Ash took a breath and choked on the words she was going to mutter. She looked down, sharing Steph's unspoken grief. When her eyes were brought back up, her breath hitched. Her eyes were wide and her hands became shaky. She nearly jumped over the back of the seat, clutching a throw pillow in front of her face. Sharing the couch, sitting next to Steph, was a police officer. His eyes were kind, and his dirty shoes shifted uneasily. There was a smear of something dark on the tip of his nose, like he forgot to check a mirror after getting ice cream. His body was pockmarked with dozens of bullet wounds and blood caked his face and chest. Dad. Oh my fucking god. Ash looked at his eyes, somehow distanced and alert at the same time, glazed over but lucid. They did hold the kindness she remembered him for. She slowly lowered the pillow to her lap, and sat cross-legged on the floor, looking at him like a little kid waiting for a story. He easily smiled and nodded when Ash stole a glance at Steph. "Dad?" Ash ventured, "Dad?" "Ash? What are you- what are you?" "Do you not see him? he's sitting right there!" Steph saw empty air. Daddy shook his head, but pointed out the window. The police were back. No doubt ready to take her away. In the end, there was too much evidence that she broke in. Ash looked at daddy, he seemed to wave them both out the door. Ash jumped up and down a few times, being both energized and stagnate, then took Steph by the wrist and led her away. Dad appeared next to another door, Ash ran through. It was the fire escape, and Ash took it and helped Steph down. Mrs. Marshall kept questioning Ash's sanity, and she kept replying, "I'll tell you later, come on!" Every corner, Daddy's warm, and yet cold, smile signaled them. Eventually, he motioned into the rear entrance of an apartment complex. It smelled of sweat and rot and the once-white paint peeled miserably off the walls.
Ash bolted up the stairs running on instinct alone, unsure of what just happened and unsure of what will happen, but sure that whatever she was doing was what was supposed to happen, like someone else was controlling her body. She couldn't hear much beyond her own breathing, but continued running up the stairs, one flight at a time, in a trashy apartment building. Once she made it to the door she wanted, with a trembling hand she grasped the handle and turned it quickly. The light thrown into the room penetrated into the darkness of the room like a dagger, revealing a disheveled bed and a collapsed nightstand. On the bed laid a very handsome man. Obviously cared about his appearance, regularly trained at a gym, spent an hour to get the perfect curl in his hair. His body was flayed open in front of Ashley. It looked like a pack of wild cats had torn at him, cutting the man into giblets. It smelled like sex and sweat and death. Ash dropped to her knees and did her best to not get sick as her body was overcome with the smell, the sight. She heard another person breathing as she collected herself, on her hands and knees on the sticky floor. Ash's breath caught in her throat. The other breathing continued. Ash looked for it's source, but saw nothing in the murky darkness of the room.
Steph caught up, wheezing on the stairs, "Ash? Ash?" She stopped at the threshold of the door, also witnessing the grotesque scene. She clapped her hands over her mouth and her bugged-out eyes immediately welled with tears. With her foot, Steph opened the door all the way, making the handle crash loudly against the wall. Ash was able to compose herself and got to her knees. The breathing was on the opposite side of the bed. Daddy confirmed that with a nod and a knowing smile, standing in a far corner. She stood up, and Steph came in and huddled at her shoulders. They ventured in pair towards the other person in the room. It was a young woman, naked save a pair of very immodest panties. She was sitting on the floor, legs thrust out to her side, leaning on her hip. With the tone of a small child who got caught in the cookie jar, she pleaded, "He liked hurting me..." Ash was taking daddy's word as law now, convinced of their nigh-holy meaning, "Hello," was all she could think to say. The girl looked up with a childlike eagerness, "Hi. I'm Jaylynne..." "That's a pretty name," Steph drew on her on-the-job knowledge to take Ash's place. "Thanks." "How old are you?" Jaylynne held out her fingers in front of her and used them to keep track of numbers, and after a second, came to the conclusion of, "Like, 19?" Steph was visibly taken back, and it wasn't the scene in the room, though that was still playing hell with her, "How long have you been doing this?" "My last birthday with my mom was 15. Then men came." Ash helped her up, and she graciously accepted the hand, and began gathering her belongings. "Are you alright?" Ash said. Fresh wounds rippled across Jaylynne's back and hips. "Yeah," she smiled pleasantly, despite the gothic pallor and makeup. She stepped into a skimpy dress. There was yelling in the stairwell and Daddy showed up again, motioning for them to get out of the window. Ash could hear it was police, asking about someone who called, reporting a dead body. Ash again took Steph's wrist and the trio was running through the alleys.
|
|