I made it back to my small, cramped apartment in one piece. I don’t know why I feel so funny, I mean yea I just slammed through a piece of glass that was taller and heavier than me, got up and walked three miles home, but I just feel off. I got to the main door to my apartment building, and with a shaking hand I lifted my key to the door. While unlocking the door, I saw dry blood on my hand; I got so scared I looked down, Shit! I have a piece of glass lunged into my side, Fuck! How didn’t I notice it before? Maybe adrenaline? Maybe stupidity? Who knows I’m home now and all I want is ‘me’ time even if I have to watch a tutorial on how to stitch my ass up I’m not going to the hospital. Huh, that would be a laugh I can see it now, ‘Miss? Tell us how this happened?’
“Well you see doctor, I got this because Mr. Fear and Intense strolled into my life, didn’t ask questions, took over my life, and caused a riot of haters who think I deserve worse then what I limped off with? Does that cover it?” Yea that would go over really well, emphasis on the really.
I got to my stairs, and I looked at in defeat I know it’s only two floors, but to me, right now, looked like a two-day journey. I put my hand on the smooth wooden rail and pushed my self up the first step. As soon as my foot hit that first step I was in such excruciating pain I fell down on top of the stairs holding my side. Fresh tears made their way down my cheeks, my body trying to relieve some of my pain.
On the second try, I hauled myself off of the splintered wooden steps and tried again. This time it wasn’t so bad, as long as I took my time.
Literally an hour later I was at my door, relief washing over me because I was soon going to be in paradise, getting lost to the world.
I walked in, threw my keys on the side table, limped to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of wine, fuck the glass today I’m being ever such a lady and drinking from the damn bottle. I slowly made my way to the bathroom and locked the door. I looked up in the mirror and I was just a sight to see. I had scrapes and cuts on my face, and neck, oh and how can I forget the piece of glass that’s sticking out of my ribs? I sighed and opened the cabinet and grabbed my first aid kit and got to work.
By the time I made it to the jagged glass poking out of my body, I just had enough, ‘Ok, Kindred, pull it out fast, like a band aid, the sooner it gets pulled out the sooner you can forget about this shitty day with cheap alcohol, mmmm yummy!”
With that thought I squeezed my eyes shut and ripped the glass out. It hurt like a bitch but there wasn’t much bleeding.
I cleaned the wound and applied pressure to it till it started to clot.
While I was waiting, I looked down at my lonely wine. I sighed and picked it up, ‘Now is the better time than any,’ I pulled the cork out with my teeth and took a huge swig from the bottle. I closed my eyes and let the sensation of the alcohol run through my veins and to calm my nerves, to gain some sense of self-back and to recharge my damn sanity!
After a half hour it was safe to go into the tub. I started the bath, and got undressed, when I heard my phone buzz, ‘Yea fuck them and whatever they want. If someone needs me that bad they can come and beat my door down. And as far as I know, know one cares enough about me that badly to do that, so….”
I got into the tub and sighed in relief. Wow, I haven’t let out that breath since I got the job at the library, have I been holding it that long? Damn maybe I should thank Mr. Fierce and Intense the next time I see him.”
A short while later I finished my bottle of wine and I was leaning back against my tub pillow just forgetting life for one moment when my phone’s annoying ring tone brought me back to my shitty life, Ugh! I picked up the wine bottle and threw it at my phone, which was resting on the edge of the bathroom sink. It knocked it over and the aggravating noise ceased, thank God!
I went back to my peaceful relaxation when the irritating ringing started up again, Fuck! I couldn’t take it anymore. I hauled my broken, drunk ass out of the tub and grabbed the phone and answered it without a hello, this person didn’t even deserve that! Fucking with my ‘me’ time.
“Whoever this is you better be fucking dying, I had to haul my drunk ass out of the tub and hobbled over to pick up, so this call better be fucking Epic!”
There was a pause, with heavy breathing, “Kindred? Kindred are you alright!”
My face scrunched up in confusion, I pulled the phone away from my face and looked at the number on the caller ID, an unknown number, ugh! I can only imagine who this is. “Who is this?”
“Kindred, I’m outside your door, open up.”
What the fuck, “Umm, no? Who the Hell is this? You better tell me or I’m calling the police!”
“Kindred, I’m not asking you again, open the God Damn Door, Now!”
Ok, I’m scared shitless, I ran back to my bathroom and grabbed hold of the empty discarded bottle, and crept back into the kitchen. I held the bottle out in front of me, hoping that this creeper finally gets a fucking hint and goes away. My breathing ragged, I was shaking uncontrollably, and fresh tears started to make their way down my already damp face.
All of a sudden there was a huge pound on the door, “Dammit Kindred! I can hear your broken breathing over the fucking phone! Let me in!”
That was it. My anxiety level shot through the roof and I took the wine bottle and smashed it on my counter, I now had a jagged edge as my defense, it was all I had left.
I crept back into a corner, when the pounding started back up again. I slid down to the floor with the phone still to my oversensitive hearing ear, a shattered bottle, and a broken soul waiting for my inevitable fate.
Pound, “Kindred!,” Pound. Pound. On the last pound the door gave up and broke off its hinges revealing an exasperated, disheveled Mr. Metaxas. I was too in shock to lower my weapon of choice, and I started to shake more. He probably came here to finish the job for the others; I did after all start this whole cluster fuck, no one likes me anyway, no one would miss me. Why fight it?
Mr. Metaxas found me in my hiding spot, my guard still up waiting for anything, when he kneeled down to my level.
In a damaged whisper, “My God!” He went to reach for my cheek, when as if it was a reflex I jerked back further into the wall and turned my face away, my tears still running down my face.
He pulled his hand away, still in a slight whisper, “What have they done to you?” He slowly looked down to my hand that had a death grip on the bottle; he took a deep breath and slowly closed his eyes as if trying to gather his bearings before speaking again.
He opened them back up, gone was the damaged man, before me sat a man that had anger and determination, a combination I’m sure could be deadly.
“You thought I came here to hurt you?”
“I didn’t know what to think, as far as I know everyone hates me and if I died a horrible death no one would think twice and think that I got what I deserved. Today I saw people for what they really are.”
Mr. Metaxas, looked at me, and as if he craved my touch he grabbed my face with both of his hands, I tried to fight it. Trying to pull away with every last fiber in my being, I just didn’t get it, everyone hated me, but this man was somehow fascinated by me in some way. Maybe it intrigued him that people hated me so much and wants to go more in depth, wanting to know my secret that repels people away from my existence.
“Dammit Kindred! Will you look at me?”
I stopped struggling and looked up at him, eyes pleading, when all of a sudden that funny feeling that I felt earlier came back, my body took over, my eyes rolled into the back of my head, and I fell over, and the last thing I heard and saw was Mr. Metaxas’ face in pure horror and him screaming my name.