The Rose

                    Preface



The rain pours upon the city like the tears of God, as I walk downtrodden streets of our great city. In front of me there is a woman walking with her son; she is practically dragging him along the road. The boy can’t be older than five or six, the mother no older than her twenties. Her clothes are reduced to a shred of a jacket, and her shoes are worn down to the soles. The boy collapses, and she stops to catch his fall; I see why she wanted to hurry. The boy’s skin has risen looking like thorns, his eyes are brightest green you’d ever seen and his mouth is filled with blood. The boy begins to seizure as the woman cries out to the sky:

“Andrew, No! Please come back, we can make it. we’re only a block away!”

I can hear the boy’s screams of pain, and mother’s hopeful cries. The child so frail, so sickly, passes away in his mother’s arms. I walk past, never looking directly at her, never looking back. The mother continually asks the question, “Why?”  Even the mother knows, that her questions will never be answered. I clutch the sleeve of my trench coat, and walk quickly to ignore the Roman Polanski scene that has just been played out. A virus has plagued our cities. It has been named the Rose virus; it appears as if from nowhere, and blossoms into an appalling death. I accidentally step through a puddle; I look down to see a trail of blood leading from a homeless man. The man undoubtedly had the virus. His face appeared cold; he’d been dead for a day or so. His skin has turned into a dark jaundice color; his eyes are still the green, if not brighter than the boy’s. The mixture of blood and what smells like alcohol pour out of every orifice in his body.  Ignoring the more hideous details of the corporeal man before me, I turn the corner and continue on. This is nothing new; this is just another day down the streets of New York City.

                                       

                                       Chapter 1 Introductions

The belt around my waist is loose, so I tighten it, and pull down my fedora closer so nobody sees my eyes. People stagger around the streets, disillusioned, ill, and trying to hold on to the last bit of life they may have. The freezing rain continues down, almost as if it won’t stop until I have dismissed myself from the streets. I turn into Central Park, and step by step you hear the philosophy of New York. Another woman begins to preach to her loyal subjects, mainly the passerby’s of the street. She perches beneath the statue of Christopher Columbus, (though it was beheaded a few years back it was just left that way), it still has that everlasting symbol of accidental discovery.

“The time is coming! The VIRUS is just a distraction! DO NOT FEAR THE DEATH OF FLOWERS!” she shouted. She might have been delirious, but those who appeared to ignore her, really were the dedicated listeners. You can’t go two blocks without hitting one of these soapbox preachers. Finally through the park, I wait to cross the street, as three yellow taxis, and a black Toyota Camry speed by. Stepping into the unstable streets, I walk with ease into the concrete jungle. I turn the corner into an alley, and open a steel door. Getting out of the rain I stand for a moment in the doorway to shake some of the water off that has collected among my effects. I close the door tightly, and place my fedora on the table that is near the door, along with the letters I had found in my pockets. I make my way to the stairs, I stepped down the spiral staircase towards the end I heard fast footsteps.

“Jack! Jack! Look what I ohh—“

Mia was right behind me speeding down the staircase when she slipped and knocked me to the bottom. It was the most clumsy, yet graceful tackle you would ever see.

“Sorry, I was just so excited, look what I found,” Mia said in a child like tone.

“What did you find?”

“I was at Digits house and I found my teddy bear! Look, its fine and everything, it doesn’t even smell like smoke.”

Mia kept that teddy bear since we met. I found her a year or two ago. She was sixteen, and staggering among the streets, trying to get by. I found her collapsed in the storm drain of 42nd street, wearing only a grey t-shirt that was torn and black sweatpants with no shoes. She wasn’t infected; she was just exhausted so I took her in. No use calling the police, just an abandoned girl. I figured I’d take her to the orphanage the next day.  She awoke later that night at about midnight; she looked up and asked if I was her father. I said no, and she asked if I was an angel, I replied with a smile and asked her to go back to sleep. Her features even then were bold, yet distinctly vulnerable, but you would lose yourself if you stared to long. I couldn’t let her rot in one of those places, they’ve been overfilled since the outbreak, and it would seem like a crime to do so. She was out cold, her skin was olive toned, her hair was dark brown and long, but her eyes were the final touch. They were almond shaped, almost black in color, but they were inhuman, they were perfect. We’ve taken care of each other ever since. Now Digit, well he’s just more of a necessary friend. He was our tech expert; he was a part of the Thorn Alliance. Mia and I were a part as well, but we were more the firing squad if you will. Digit is about twenty or so, he says he doesn’t remember his age. (Most people don’t at a certain point) He’s a good man, smokes about three packs a day, but he’s a good man. I can’t say that I’ve ever trusted him around Mia though, she may be young, but she’s not stupid. Digit has always been, well… too close to her. Everybody knew he liked her, except Mia, but that’s for the better. Digit is more of a diamond in the rough, but by diamond, I mean coal. He had a shaved head, but always wore a hat, and had a black goatee. He was inseparable from his electronics; he always had a cell phone, laptop, or something on him. At this point I’ve picked myself up and Mia as well. I took off my trench coat and placed it over a chair that was next to the stairs; I took Mia’s jacket and put it near mine.  Mia jumped over the couch, and sat there cuddling with her teddy bear.  Though she was seventeen, she still acted like a little girl sometimes. I walked around to the couch, sat down next to her and pulled a blanket over Mia. I flipped on the television to see today’s latest tragedy. This was a nightly ritual: we’d watch the news, eat dinner, check for new assignments from the Thorn Alliance, and then go to bed. In the background of my thoughts I could hear the reporter: “The body count continues to rise, and civilians are beginning to ask, where is the relief? The entire state of Florida has been put on quarantine from traffic, as a centralized area has…”  Her voice drifted, I stared at the television, though not really picking anything up. This is where Mia, Digit, and I came in. The Alliance is what we do, how we survive, it’s our life. The Thorn Alliance was created in response to the Rose virus. Now, it seems ridiculous just to make an Alliance against a virus, but there’s more than what it seems. The outbreak happened a year after the presidential election. The President had the lowest support ratings in the history of the United States, and they finally turned their funding towards helping the environment, and curing diseases. It was a bunch of liberal babble; they were really saving themselves in case of an uprising. When one person got hold of what they were actually doing, mysteriously the woman died in her house, from a strange extraterrestrial like virus. Then the coroner who examined her body, the paramedics, doctor, nurse, and her section of the ICU contracted the virus. The entire Mt, Sinai Hospital contracted the virus, and was quarantined, but the virus kept spreading. The origin was pointed at the Marmara-Manhattan apartment complex, where the first person to contract the virus, Anne Moyer lived. Every resident at the Marmara-Manhattan had suffered a terrible death from an unknown virus. It continued to spread, it had no discrimination, young or old, female or male, it killed millions; soon New York was barred off from the rest of the country in hopes of containing the virus. It became apparent that this was not something containable; it could be spread through close contact of a victim. Soon Chicago, Huston, Milwaukee, Tampa, and Las Vegas suffered outbreaks of this strange lethal virus. Two hundred thousand dead the next week, and numbers continued to climb.  Then a new generation came around, our generation, the generation that would save the country. The Thorn Alliance was created by the only known survivor, Connie DeMaster. Connie was a coworker of Anne Moyer, who realized the same thing that Anne did. There was something wrong with our government; they are hiding something, something malevolent. Moyer’s infection was known because she had mysteriously contracted it, but DeMaster was injected with it. Two syringes she told us into her left arm, she came with the only measure she could. Connie DeMaster severed her own arm, the only way to stop the spreading of the virus throughout her body. Others have tried this, but it has never seemed to work for them. She was now the only known survivor, a miracle really, but miracles in New York City, now that’s rare. Connie is in her mid thirties, I think, that might be an insult. (I honestly don’t know) I’ve never seen her in person, but from what I know she was about 5’ 6”, average weight, with green eyes, and red hair. Of course she was missing her left arm, but she had peculiar scars across her neck, and right arm; she claimed they were from battle. The claim may be more believable, if I had seen her in real life, but it was not the most inconspicuous way to get in contact. People remember a person like Connie, and definitely me.

It’s odd to think of myself that way, I don’t think I’m memorable, just odd. My parents were both victims of the virus, they passed away six years ago, I was left alone. At first my Aunt had taken care of me, but soon after she couldn’t handle the resemblance of my parents in me. She left me at an orphanage, for three years I watched children come in an out, some runaway, some died, and nobody was really ever adopted or picked up. This is where my rebellion against the virus began, one kid seventeen, had told me about this. Every other weekend he would disappear, leaving Friday at 6 p.m., and returning at 10 p.m. Sunday. Like clockwork he would walk through that door, and say the same thing to me every weekend.

“We’re one step closer to a cure.”

Those words always seemed to amaze me, how they could move me to join him. When I enrolled to the Thorn Alliance, I had no experience in anything dealing with fighting, or weaponry; soon I would be an expert. My friend from the orphanage only went on one mission with me, his last. We were ambushing a group of senators that where being transferred to a less diseased area. One of the senators was believed to be close to the creator of the virus, and thus our main target. The van would pass through Brooklyn, and it would stop only once, at one stop sign. We hid on the sides of the street, we had opposite sides however, I was more of a point blank shot then. When the van approached, something happened, something that wasn’t supposed too. The van was being followed by a car, a car from a gang that we knew of. Within seconds of the stop the car opened up and revealed three shooters, all of them aiming for us. The gang attempted to gun down our ambush, and they would succeed only missing two. At first all I could do was hear the shells drop, then I saw it happen. The kid from the orphanage was shot, double tap in the back of the head, execution style. I immediately ran, I couldn’t bare it, not the sight, not the sound, nothing. I ran, without returning to the orphanage, I couldn’t not without him. I found this place, a place where I could be safe, my own home.

Chapter 2 Crowd

There’s a knock on the door, Mia has fallen asleep already, so I go to check who it is. It was Digit, finishing his cigarette, he stood in the rain. I let him in; he appears to be vexed about something.

“Damn twins they got me…” Digit trailed off walking through the door.

“Got what?”

“You know the Vincetti twins, yeah… Damn little girls took my cell phone.”

I laughed to myself, the Vincetti twins, Mary and Katherine, quick girls, they were the same age as Mia, but they never really got along. They were both short, pale, and had the same blue eyes, but they were also vastly different. Mary was sly, she has short blonde glossy hair, but she wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. Now Katherine was smarter, not all too graceful, but smart nonetheless. Katherine was the nicer one, she had long curly hair, and dyed it quite often different colors. You could say they had a crush on Digit, but well that would just and understatement. Mary liked Digit, and showed it by her kleptomania for only his things; Katherine showed it by returning his things…empty or broken however.

“That was my last good cell phone.”

“Liar, you have millions.” We walked to the kitchen. “Besides you know why they do it, Katherine will give it back tomorrow.”

“So, it will probably be broken. Besides, I’m too old for them.”

“Good, then you’re too old for Mia. So no--”

“You know that’s not what I meant, besides you’re the same age as me, or so you claim. I bet you’re really pushing thirty.”

“Pft. You wish, just remember you touch a hair on her head, and well it will be a short drop and a sudden stop for you.”

We laughed in unison, but Digit was almost too sarcastic. He rummaged our refrigerator, and emerged with a can of Nestle Iced Tea, and two slices of cold pizza. That kid could eat, I mean, not as much as some other people I know, but… seriously he cleaned our refrigerator. There was only a few more people that I think I can acknowledge with that ability, but it’s a few more than I could care for.  But he was wrong; I know how old I am, twenty one. Not that bad considering my employment of choice, and our world.

“So you hear about Florida?” Digit interrupted my thoughts.

“Yea, kind of. I think it’s rather funny, all the tourists stuck down there. Bet they’re not complaining” It was true; I couldn’t help but think it.

“Guess who is coming back to the streets of this beautiful city?”

I thought for a second, the only person I’d known that went down to Florida… no… “Igor Ure? I thought he was there for the ‘American girls’ last spring?”

“Yeah that bastard got out, he got stuck down there when somebody called him a communist… assault with a deadly weapon... and premeditated murder”

“Doesn’t surprise me. How’d he get out? Actually I don’t want to know, he’s not staying here. I don’t want him around Mia. I mean, I’m fine with him… but you know what I mean.”

“No not really. Oh...Hah, the cat thing? Oh come on its fun.”

Igor was a weapons dealer, moved from Russia in 2009, something about being sick of Russian women. He said he came here to have a fresh start, and find a wife. Two months after he got here, he was the number one black market weapons dealer in the entire New York state. The women thing, well Igor is more of a brute than anything, not one for words. Igor is tall, porcelain white, darker hair, and hazel eyes; he always dresses the same jeans, white shirt, leather jacket of some sorts. He’s got some weird quirks, like his issues with cats. For some reason last winter he took Digit with him, and hunted stray cats in central park with snipers and shot guns. I never understood why, still don’t. I can remember the conversation:

“You see, it’s not cruel, in Moscow we did this all time. It’s like old times, except without family. My brothers and I did this. The shotgun works best; you see it has better accuracy, more buckshot, more dead kitties.” Igor said thick with accent, and laughed.

I will never get over that, I mean sure I’ve done my share of killing, but kittens never sat right.  There is no way that Mia would like it, seeing is how she actually asked if we could get a cat various times. But other than that he was fine.

“I didn’t expect him to stay here. Though I could take Mia off your hands for a few days, if you would like to get him settled I’m no good with that stuff.”

“Not a chance, I don’t want her to have lung cancer, or near you for any extended amount of time.

” Don’t you trus—“

“No.”

Digit raised his eyebrows, and sighing, knowing that would be the end of the conversation. After he finished the food on his plate, he went back for a second scavenge, returning seconds later with some takeout containers.

“Speaking of the devil where is she?” Digit asked.

I know she’s downstairs, probably not sleeping anymore, but he doesn’t need to know that. “I think she is out with Katherine, they’ve been hanging out more than usual.” I can hear her footsteps as she comes upstairs, then she pauses, and goes back down for some reason.

“Yeah, ok Jack, I know when I’m not wanted” He scoffs, then continues eating, and glares directly at the staircase. Digit doesn’t know that Mia has a fireman pole from her room to the basement, something the building came with. I know she can climb it; it’s just another reason for him not to be in her room. She is also the only one that can fit through the hole that connected the two rooms. I can hear a streaking noise from her leg scraping against the pole, not as quiet as I had hoped.

“What was that?” Digit paused, “Sounded like a cat screeching? But I oh!”

Mia pranced out in her pajamas which consisted of a small grey spaghetti strapped shirt, and short black shorts.

“DIGIT WHAT THE HELL!”

She dove practically in her room, and slams the door behind her. This was nothing new to me, I had seen her in pajamas a million times, but Digit never. I turn to see a giant smile across his face, with deviant intent behind them.

“I thought you said she was with Katherine.” He said smiling, never moving his eyes from Mias’ door.

“I must have been sleeping when she came home.” I shift my weight towards him. “I think I should go see if she’s ok.”

I walk quickly towards her door, making sure that Digit doesn’t move. Three knocks, she doesn’t answer.

“ Mia, its Jack –“

The door opens as I feel my shirt being pulled, and I fall through the door, I can hear it slam again. I look up to see Mia in her pajamas, red as a beet, and she looked like she was going to cry.

“Is he still here? Why is he here? Can’t he just leave me alone!”

“He just stopped by, I thought you were sleeping. Are you feeling ok?”

“Yes, no, I don’t know, I do want to stab him though! Ugh, why was he here? I didn’t hear anything until I got to the stairs, but I thought it was the TV. I went back down, came up through my room. I just want to cry! Seriously, what the hell!”

Mia stops, hugs me, and begins to cry; I pick her up off the floor and lay her on the bed.

“It’s not that big of a deal, yes it may be embarrassing, but it’s ok” I attempt to console her, recognizing that it is slightly ineffective. I know that teenage girls are insecure, but maybe she figured out what everybody else has. Digit is obsessed with her, and well, an idiot for the most part.

“It just freaks me out, I don’t like wearing that little around people. I don’t mind you, but I trust you, it’s just others… You know what I mean?” 

“Kind of.”

It’s not like I’ll go walking around in my pajamas around her, but I understand what she means.

“Why don’t you go to sleep, I’ll check in on you later.”

“Ok.”

She unfolds into her bed, like a puppy who has just laid down for the first time, she sprawls out. Then she pulls the black blankets over herself, and curls up into a little ball. She smiles, I smile back, kiss her on the forehead, and go leave the room. I walk out to see Digit out cold on the couch; he is holding something, looks like a bottle… That bastard stole my rum! What?

“Jesus Christ Digit! I just bought that, and I wasn’t gone more than ten minutes! How on earth do you just drink that straight you must not have a sense of taste!”

I realize that I am yelling at nobody, and probably just scaring Mia. He doesn’t move, just still, maybe he drank himself into a coma. I check for a pulse, still there, almost a disappointment after the last incident.  I go over to the kitchen, close all the cupboards, and clean up the war zone of a meal. It is 3 a.m. Digit is unconscious, and Mia is hopefully sleeping. I go over, pick the remaining crumbs off of the white counter tops, and fill the sink with hot water. I’ll do the dishes later, soaking helps the dirt come off. I walk past Mia’s room, then go back to make sure that she is alright. Peeking in, she is curled up in the same position that I had left her in. If it weren’t for the breathing, you’d think she was dead. Mia lies perfectly still; it’s kind of odd that I find this beautiful. Her tranquility, silence, and skin are near flawless; it’s a shame to not look at her. I shake my head, I shouldn’t be thinking this, and she’s just a little girl.

“Jack?”

She’s awake? What? Oh this is embarrassing, um, what should I say. Do I answer? Of course she knows I’m here.

“Yes dear.”

“Can I sleep with you?”

“Yes dear.”

She turns over, leans forward, and holds her arms out for me. This was typical, my little girl, probably shaken by her close encounter. I pick her up, and carry her towards my room. Her skin is soft, hair smooth, and she smells sweet; like lilacs, and it’s perfect. I lay her down in my bed, and pull the sheets over her, and then I begin to walk away. I can sleep on the couch, she never notices.

“Wh-Where are you going?”

“I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

“Can’t you sleep with me? I don’t want to be alone right now. Something isn’t right.”

This is something that a little girl would ask for, but it is different with Mia. For many reasons being that she’s seventeen, it just wouldn’t be right if we shared the same bed; secondly she’s a beautiful seventeen year old, with the innocence of a child, and the beauty of a model; lastly well, I’m a man, no need to explain. Not that I would ever take advantage of Mia or anything really, it’s just a possibility.  I hesitate at first, she’s never asked this before. Is this the right thing? Of course I want to, but is it right?

“You always leave to go on the couch, but that makes it worse. I just had the worst possible night; I don’t want to be by myself. Please, it is fine if you don’t…” She pauses; I know if I look down at her, I will give in. “Are you afraid of something? It’s not like it will change anything, besides the point, I’m terrified of sleeping alone. Plus with Digit still here, I know he is, I don’t want to be alone.”

She had me there, I don’t want to sleep in the same room as Digit. I sigh, walk over to the opposite side of the bed, and sit on the edge.

“Yes dear.”



                             Chapter 3 Absurd



“Get out! Get Out! Now!”

“Oh come on you—“

My head felt like a ton of bricks, my arms feel like jelly, and where is that noise coming from. I roll over into the cotton sheets, sprawling over the cold black pillows, and then it hit me. It’s Mia yelling at Digit.

“I swear I’ll break your damn neck!”

I jump out of bed, slipping on the sheets, and run to open the door. BAM! I can feel my eyes swell with water, as the blood drips from my nose onto my lips. The force kicks me back through the door, with a dizzying aftershock. The pain is so intense that my ears begin to ring, as I notice that Mia is still yelling, slowly my mind focuses.

“Look what you made me do! Jack? Jack! Oh I think he’s dead! Digit this is all your fault!”

I open my eyes to see Mia with a frying pan in her left hand, hovered over me, crying, and panicked. Oh my head, my nose, what the hell is going on? I cough, thick phlegm covered my throat, I can’t breathe for some reason.

“Jack? I’m so so sorry, are you ok? Well of course you’re not, what do I do?”

“We’ll take him to Igor, he’s broken his nose before, and fixed it.”

“Broken? No, I think it’s just bloody.” I reach up to pinch my nose, only to realize that it is swollen, and very painful. “Ok ow, ow OW!”

“It’s broken.” They said in unison, and monotone.

“Why is my nose broken anyway?” I choke out, still coughing, and crying.

“Well I was beginning to make my breakfast, when Digit came up behind me, grabbed my hips, and whispered ‘Good morning Hun’ Just don’t touch me, and don’t ever get that close to me again!”

“Oh come on, it was a joke, you never let me joke around with you.”

“FOR GOOD REASON!”

“Digit, once again, if you ever touch her again, I will kill you. Now can one of you call Igor, I’m about to pass out.”

“On it.” Digit had his phone out

The call was short, I heard bursts of laugh from the conversation. Meanwhile Mia sat with me holding rags with cold water, trying to keep the blood from staining everything. We took my shirt off to keep me from ruining it, I’d already destroyed Mia’s pajamas. I felt so bad her grey shirt was covered in blood, and her shorts well I couldn’t tell because they were black. My nose kept swelling, my eyes were watering, and the seconds began to feel like hours.

“Igor is coming, and he told me to have some good vodka ready.”

“He’s not drinking now! Are you kidding me?”

“Don’t ask how the man works.”

Mia did not acknowledge Digit, she only stared at me with remorseful eyes, struck with guilt. Now those eyes could kill. A knock at the door, Digit walks over to open it, as Mia stares back at me.

“Get out! Damn kids! Nobody needs you here!”

Before Digit could say another word Katherine, and Mary were at my side, gawking at the injury.

“What the hell happened, did you walk into a door?” Mary scoffed, the she saw Mia’s eyes overflow with tears.

“Wow, probably just a compound fracture, how are you feeling?” Katherine examined my nose intently, careful to not touch it.

“Other than the swelling, bleeding, broken nose, and pain, I’m perfect. Helps that I slept well.”

Mia smiles, switches cloths, and turns towards Katherine.

“Katherine, can you take over, I need to change.”

“No problem, just stay still I don’t want to hurt you.”

She glanced towards me, smiled, and turned to get up. I watched her walk away, realizing that focusing on Mia helped me reduce the pain. Another knock at the door, and Digit rushes to open it.

“You big baby, you let girls take care of you, it’s just you’re nose.”

Igor wanders over to the bottle of vodka placed on the table, and begins reading the label. He laughs periodically, and like a twitch he kept glancing over at Katherine and me. The door opens as Mia emerges in a pair of black pants, and a white button down shirt that had a crimson corset on the bottom half. This is not her normal attire, the entire room stops for a moment, and quickly reassesses the situations. I turn back to see Igor take a shot of the vodka, and immediately spit it out.

“What is this? This is not vodka, four year olds could drink this.”

“I’m a dark liquor person. I don’t even know why I have that.”

“Sure, sure, well good thing I brought my own.”

Igor takes off his leather jacket to revealing a slender glass bottle of what we all assumed was vodka. I couldn’t read the label, it was white and red, had to be in Russian. He took a bowl, a shot glass, and a clean rag, and filled them with the vodka. Then he lifted the shot glass, looked at me and smiled.

“Alright little baby, down it goes. I’d say hold your nose, but that’s not really possible. But you won’t feel anything after this.”

“I’m pretty sure that will kill me.”

“You are not going to be able to handle this fully aware, or sober.”

“Well I’m pretty sure that will kill me, I’d rather try something else, even a hospital.”

Since the outbreak, hospitals have become a last resort for people like us. When we go to a hospital nowadays things are different, you risk exposure. By exposure we mean exposure about the Thorn Alliance. Even though our country runs on trepidation, we still abide by the government, and the president. In a sense we are the renegades of our time. By going to a hospital, I risk everything, and it’s not like this is a battle wound. They are more suspicious if it’s a bullet wound, stabbing, but frying pan to the face, not likely.

“No, not yet. I know it’s not a battle scar, but that is still a last resort.”

Mia stood by the counter, behind Igor, but she still seemed out of place. I didn’t even know she owned clothes like that, just to see it was shocking.

“Well I’ll call Slim Tim, maybe he has something.”

Before anybody could object, Digit had Tim on the line. Slim Tim was a pimp, and a horrible drug dealer. By horrible, I mean he didn’t know what he was doing, the substances he carried, or how to use them. Only Digit personally knew him, or needed him. Digit like his “personal services,” Tim just stays around, it’s actually very frustrating. His real name is Sean Freeman, he’s twenty-two, and originally from Grafton, Wisconsin. If you didn’t hear him speak, you’d think the kid played video games or something twenty hours a day. Usually he wore baggy jeans, a sweatshirt, and never sat still. He was tall, skinny, hazel eyes, and a brown hair; not you’re typical pimp.

“Hey man, what it do? You need help from my lady friends or what?” Tim said walking into the room, “Whoa man, I don’t do S&M services! But I can take blondie off of your hands for a while…”

Tim stared at Mary without a single good intention in his body. Digit slapped him in the back of the head, and he continued into the kitchen. With him stumbled his lady of the evening, who walked over to the counter where Igor was. The girl was thin, tall, but she looked a mess; her hair was long, dark, but fine. Everything about her looked breakable, she looked like if you blew on her she’d just shatter.  The girl began to go through her routine with Igor, she stood there swaying in a skin tight red dress, and purple heals.  Poor girl, she’s so young, too young, to look like this.

“Aw, that’s pimpilicious, right Daddy?”

“Yeah, whatever. Now shut up, I’m doin’ business.”

The young girl leaned over the counter, and continued to work, as Igor took another shot of vodka. Mia sat down on the couch, with the Vincetti twins, and flipped the television on.

“ Nah, nah, man I got you covered, there’s a girl I know, Sarah O’Reilly a doctor, she works for a friend of mine I’ll call her.”

“NO! We can’t take him to a hospital. Are you insane? We don’t need any exposure.”

“Nah, she lost her medical license thingy, she works out of her home. Banned for assisted suicide, or somethin’ ridiculous. Anyway, she helps my girls when they get hurt, or become ‘unavailable.’”

“Are you sure yo--, we can trust her?” Digit asked, almost furious at the idea.

“Yeah, she do all that stuff you do. You know what I mean? She’s part of some alliance, or somethin’ she’ll do anything to help anyone who’s against the government.”

“That’s absurd! Are you kidding me?” Mary shouted from the couch, her and Katherine were arguing.

“This does sound absurd.” I quickly returned, this was coming from a drug dealer, pimp, who beat his girls.

“Let her at least come over, or you can have him do it.”

Tim pointed at Igor, who just smiled and walked over to me.

“Let me clean it at least, that’s what the vodka is for. It’s what my mother used, it burns, but it is strong.”

Igor leaned over with the bowl of vodka, and soaked the rag in it.

“Just sit up straight.”

I sat still, and as Igor rung the rag out, and moved towards my face. The smell was strong, it burned before it touched me. He blotted my nose with the rag, my eyes began to water, this was the worst. The stinging stayed after the cloth left my nose, it was almost as bad as the broken nose. Somewhere between the smell, and the burn, I realized that O’Reilly was looking a lot better.

“Are you crying?” Mia asked watching him, wipe off the excess vodka.

“You have no idea how bad this burns, just the smell burns.”

“Baby.”

Igor finished wiping the excess off, and walked over to the sink to ring out the towel. Mia walked me behind me, putting her arms around my neck, and setting her chin on my shoulder.

“Should we call Sarah?”

“That’d be great.”

Digit watched as Mia stayed on my shoulder, tilting her head , so her lips where towards my cheek. Even though hours before she was covered in blood and sweat, she still smelt as sweet as the night before, nothing changed. At this point I assumed that Digit was going to dive after me, and take Mia with him; but we all know that he would be quickly trampled by the Vincetti girls. Mia pushed her head closer to mine, and kissed me on the cheek.

“Yes dear?”

“Can you ask, I don’t feel like asking them to call. Plus, I don’t want to offend Igor, it is your nose.”

“Tim? I think we should call Sarah.”

“Alright, I’m on it!”

“So, Apple is it? Can I get you something to drink?”

Digit turned immediately to the girl that Tim had brought, putting his hand on the side of her arm. He went to the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of water for her, then a pizza for himself. He walked over, flicked on the oven, and tapped his foot impatiently. Mia walked around to the front of the chair, and hopped onto my lap. She only did this when we were home alone at night, it’s just something we did to fall asleep. 

“Maybe I should put a shirt on. My nose isn’t bleeding anymore.”

“I don’t mind.” Mia and the Vincetti girls said in unison.

“I’m going to go get a shirt.”

“Sarah is on her way. Digit you want Apple for the night?”

“That’s up to her.”

“Sure Daddy, I’ll stay.”

The Vincetti girls glared at Apple, though she didn’t notice, they were trying to burn holes through the back of her head. Katherine simply turned away, tracing the lining of her sweatshirt. While Mary flipped her glossy blonde hair, and took her first jacket off, revealing a white blouse underneath, it was a little low-cut for my taste. She walked over to the counter in the kitchen, and took a seat in front of Mia. I stood up, and walked back to my bedroom, where all of this began. Either way I had to change clothes, I opened my closet, revealing my lack of interest in colorful clothing. Most of my shirts where neutral tones, white, or black, all arranged to style and color. I don’t like to wear flashy clothes, just keeping it simple is fine for me. I take out a pair of dark jeans, a black button down shirt, and a brown leather jacket. I’m not sure if we’re staying here, or going to her house, so I’ll just take the jacket with me. I change my socks, and what not, I feel heavy from the blood that is set in on my jeans from yesterday, I need to wash up a little. I leave my room in the new clothes, walk down the hall past Mia’s room, to the bathroom. The tiles are white, countertops a shiny grey marble, and the rest a metallic silver. I turn to the mirror over the sink, and examine the damage done by the frying pan. Then turn to shut the door, I don’t need anybody walking in.

“Yeesh, I look like hell.”

I take the shirt off, and run cold water, to wash the blood from my chest. I just need to wipe it off, I’ll feel better after that. I open my drawer, take out my toothbrush, toothpaste, I can’t smell that great. I finish, dry off, and put my shirt back on; time to check on everybody else. I open the door, and walk out to hear nothing, no arguing. Well, at least that’s good, nothing to break up. I run my hands through my hair, readjust the mess I had woken up with, then turn the corner into the kitchen. Mia, Mary, Digit, and Apple surround the counter in the kitchen, while Katherine, Igor, and Tim are watching television on the couch. They seemed content, I walk behind Mia, and place my arms around her, holding her tight. Digit moves closer to Apple, glares at me, as Mary glares at him, and Mia sighs at ease. I look over to see Igor and Katherine curiously close to each other and Tim on the phone again.

“Sarah said she’ll git here, nothin’ to worry ‘bout.”

“Alright, Katherine, Igor, would you like something to eat?”

“I called for a pizza while you where changing.” Mia replied for them, they smiled, and turned away.

“Digit did you finish the pizza from before?”

“No, I burned.”

“So, it will be more than a hundred?”

Mia nodded her head, and leaned back into my chest. I bent my face over her, kissing the top of her head. It was nice to be able to show affection publicly, we had been accustomed to some things privately, and slowly but surely it crept out. Digit stiffened himself, and caressed Apple’s arm, that was now drowning in his jacket. She had taken off her shoes, and seemed more comfortable, more vulnerable. Tim had been consumed entirely by our television, or maybe he was just dazing, I couldn’t tell. A loud knock at the door, Sarah had arrived.

“I got it.” Tim was up in a bound, and at the door.

As it opened a woman appeared, and she wasn’t at all what I had imagined. She was 5’6”, brown hair, green eyes, and rosy cheeks; she seemed very out of place, not somebody that would associate with a person named Slim Tim. With her she carried two giant duffle bags, both black leather, and filled completely. Sarah stepped inside, and set the bags down, they hit the ground with a loud thud.

“Hello, I’m Sarah O’Reily, though I’m sure you knew that,” she began quietly, “now tell me what happened.”

“Long story short, I got a frying pan to the nose. We think that broke it, and then Igor cleaned it.”

“How did you clean it?”

“Good vodka.” Igor chuckled, as Katherine and him walked over from the couch to greet Sarah.

“Are you drunk?”

“No.”

“Any allergies or preexisting conditions?”

“Yes, goldenrod, then no.”

“Past injuries?”

“Bullet to the arm two years ago, but I had it removed.”

“All right now you’ll need to remove your shirt, and put this on.” She handed me a lavender medical gown, “and we’ll need a flat surface so you can lie down.”

“Have you done this before?” Mia tightened her body, shaking a little, she was like a brick in my arms.

“Yes, it is not a problem. I’ve performed this procedure with fewer instruments, and less time.”

“Ok.”

Mia was now holding my arms tightly, I could feel the angst within her grip. I turn my head, and kiss her forehead. “I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be absurd. You’ll be perfectly fine.”