(short story)
She would always say to me “hey Mister”, even though I mentioned to her countless times I preferred that she address me by my given name.
I would always see her sitting on the bottom steps of our apartment building each day as I would arrive home from work.
An annoying young lady really. Always talking to me about something. Always making noise or yelling at the top of her lungs in the hallway. Always so much noise coming from her apartment just above me late at night.
…but I did make sure that I paid her some attention as I realized she was in dire need of it.
She was about half my age with brownish green eyes, slender and shapely but one could tell she was under nourished and did not eat properly.
The tattoos that adorned her body were exquisite. Each integral with next. If one were to look closer you would discover that she was telling her life story. Surprisingly enough the piercing in her eyebrow, nose and tongue accentuated her looks more than they detracted from them.
I remember telling her how pretty I thought she was.
She cried and cried afterward for hours it seemed.
I remember telling her how wretched I thought her attitude was.
She said “sorry Mister, I was born this way”.
I remember telling her to get a job, to get a life, to get up off the steps and do something with herself, to please get out of my way
She would always just politely smile at me.
I can’t get out of my mind the numerous black eyes or the many bruises exposed on her arms and legs. Those raunchy looking strange men that came and went. To see them sickened me.
Each time I asked if she wanted me to intervene with them. She would say “no thank you Mister, I can handle it”.
Every now and then she would come to my door and ask if there was anything she could do for me. Like vacuum the place or wash dishes. I knew what she really wanted was to be where she felt safe for a while.
I would invite her in and immediately she would sit on the couch and fall asleep for hours. After waking she would go take a shower. It was almost like she lived there.
Then of course the parading around in front of me in the nude. I always told her how beautiful she was and then hand her clothes to put back on. Then I would give her some food and walk her to her apartment door.
She would look at me surprised that I would never take advantage of her promiscuous initiations. Then stop herself from tearing up.
Just yesterday morning I banged on her door as the music was way too loud for that time of the morning and it sounded like utter chaos was taking place.
She apologized for disturbing me and the noise quieted.
Later, I brought home some Chinese take out to share with her and we sat on the steps and ate it with our chopsticks. We talked endlessly about nothing in particular really and laughed with silliness, on and on into the early Am.
She said that was the best time she had ever had in her life.
I was late getting home this evening and looking forward to the usual greeting from my troubled friend. I knew something had gone terribly wrong as an ambulance sat in front of the building.
As I went inside I felt helpless as I watched while Paramedics were taking her from her apartment trying desperately trying to revive her. I could see she wasn’t responding.
The ambulance rushed away and now as I sit here on the steps where she always did. Praying to the heavens not to take her just yet. I think what more could I have done. I can hear her raspy voice in my mind. She would sometimes say to me, “Hey Mister, I love you”.
I would grumpily respond by telling her I thought she knew nothing about Love. This hurts and I could just kick myself right about now.
Rory
©rj2010
She would always say to me “hey Mister”, even though I mentioned to her countless times I preferred that she address me by my given name.
I would always see her sitting on the bottom steps of our apartment building each day as I would arrive home from work.
An annoying young lady really. Always talking to me about something. Always making noise or yelling at the top of her lungs in the hallway. Always so much noise coming from her apartment just above me late at night.
…but I did make sure that I paid her some attention as I realized she was in dire need of it.
She was about half my age with brownish green eyes, slender and shapely but one could tell she was under nourished and did not eat properly.
The tattoos that adorned her body were exquisite. Each integral with next. If one were to look closer you would discover that she was telling her life story. Surprisingly enough the piercing in her eyebrow, nose and tongue accentuated her looks more than they detracted from them.
I remember telling her how pretty I thought she was.
She cried and cried afterward for hours it seemed.
I remember telling her how wretched I thought her attitude was.
She said “sorry Mister, I was born this way”.
I remember telling her to get a job, to get a life, to get up off the steps and do something with herself, to please get out of my way
She would always just politely smile at me.
I can’t get out of my mind the numerous black eyes or the many bruises exposed on her arms and legs. Those raunchy looking strange men that came and went. To see them sickened me.
Each time I asked if she wanted me to intervene with them. She would say “no thank you Mister, I can handle it”.
Every now and then she would come to my door and ask if there was anything she could do for me. Like vacuum the place or wash dishes. I knew what she really wanted was to be where she felt safe for a while.
I would invite her in and immediately she would sit on the couch and fall asleep for hours. After waking she would go take a shower. It was almost like she lived there.
Then of course the parading around in front of me in the nude. I always told her how beautiful she was and then hand her clothes to put back on. Then I would give her some food and walk her to her apartment door.
She would look at me surprised that I would never take advantage of her promiscuous initiations. Then stop herself from tearing up.
Just yesterday morning I banged on her door as the music was way too loud for that time of the morning and it sounded like utter chaos was taking place.
She apologized for disturbing me and the noise quieted.
Later, I brought home some Chinese take out to share with her and we sat on the steps and ate it with our chopsticks. We talked endlessly about nothing in particular really and laughed with silliness, on and on into the early Am.
She said that was the best time she had ever had in her life.
I was late getting home this evening and looking forward to the usual greeting from my troubled friend. I knew something had gone terribly wrong as an ambulance sat in front of the building.
As I went inside I felt helpless as I watched while Paramedics were taking her from her apartment trying desperately trying to revive her. I could see she wasn’t responding.
The ambulance rushed away and now as I sit here on the steps where she always did. Praying to the heavens not to take her just yet. I think what more could I have done. I can hear her raspy voice in my mind. She would sometimes say to me, “Hey Mister, I love you”.
I would grumpily respond by telling her I thought she knew nothing about Love. This hurts and I could just kick myself right about now.
Rory
©rj2010
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