Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
“I’m okay, I’ll go over the road to a café. Thank you for all your help, I really appreciate it.”
I turn and jog across the street toward a large bar that’s bustling with people.
I’m causing chaos, I know it.
If only I cared.
I PLACE MY EMPTY GLASS down and wave at the bartender to fill it once more. I’m on my fifth or sixth beer. I don’t know, I stopped counting once I started feeling light-headed and happy. I’ve been in this great little bar for easily two hours and am enjoying every second of it. The atmosphere is fantastic, and the bartender is chatty and friendly, telling me about his life, how long he’s lived here and other great stories.
He puts a fresh beer down, and I give him an appreciative smile. “Thank you, keep them coming.”
“Are you meeting friends?” he asks me, wiping down the counter with a damp cloth.
“No, I’m not planning on it. I’m only here for the night, just enjoying the local attractions.”
He laughs. “Well, make sure you don’t go wandering off by yourself when it gets dark.”
“Yes, boss.”
He winks at me and goes to serve someone else. The stool beside me slides out, and I glance to my left to see Briella sitting down beside me, her face tight with anger. Great, just what I need right now, another fight with someone.
“Briella,” I say, taking a sip of the beer.
“Why did you ditch Cohen?”
She can’t be serious? What are we, third graders?
“Because I’m a grown ass woman and I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Well, what we’re doing is dangerous and he’s only looking out for the club. Once, you would have understood that.”
I’m frustrated. I know I’m not treating her right, but hell, she isn’t treating me right either. My god, she’s being so damned hurtful. I look to her and my expression shows all the rage I’m feeling in my chest. Our eyes meet and, in a hiss, I say, “What is your problem? All you do is continually tell me who I used to be. What about who you used to be, Briella? What about the girl who was supposed to be my friend, that let me disappear without ever once fucking looking for me?”
She looks like I’ve slapped her. She reels backward and her mouth drops open, her features filling with shock. “What?” she whispers.
“You heard me. I was in the hands of a fucking monster, and not one of you, not fucking one of you, bothered to look. You all assumed I left and never wanted to be found again. You were my best fucking friend, you were there that day, you should have known that I’d never fucking run away never to make contact again.”
She’s shaking her head now.
Has she not honestly thought of this before?
Considered how it felt for me?
“Aviana ...”
“You want to throw in the kind of person I am now, have a good hard look at your fucking self. Do you know what that man did to me? He raped me. He hurt me. He abused me. He kept me as his own personal fucking slave. I have seen the kind of hell you couldn’t even begin to imagine. Don’t you dare come in here telling me I’m different, I have a fucking right to be different.”
I’m screaming now, my voice high and almost frightened in its pitch. I shove the barstool back, not looking at any of the people who are currently staring at me. Tears, tears I’ve fought so damned hard to keep away, rise to the surface. This time, I don’t know if I can keep them in, this time, I don’t think I can be strong.
I’m so tired of being strong.
Sometimes, I just want to be weak, pathetic.
That is so much easier.
I turn and rush out of the bar, my head spinning from the alcohol. I don’t know where I’m going, I don’t bother to stop and look. It’s dark, and I run until I can’t run anymore. I find a park nestled amongst thick bushes. I kick my shoes off and walk into the soft sand, panting, tears burning so hard I don’t think I can hold them back a second longer. One tear rolls down my cheek, followed by another, and I don’t make it to the swing.
I fall into the sand, and then I sob.
A loud, pained sob.
I haven’t cried for so long, I have forgotten what it feels like.
It hurts.
I hate it.
But I can’t stop it.
I hang my head and cry for everything that I’ve endured, everything that I’ve lost and everything that I’ve become.
They’re right, I am a monster.
I’m right, they’re monsters.
We’re all bloody monsters.
Yet, there is so much love to be had.
So much fucking love.
Love I don’t know if I can ever accept, even though the biggest parts of me wish I would take it.