AURORA
I moved again. Don't judge me, okay? Or judge, I don't fucking care. Want to know what I care about? This town was better than any I've ever moved to before. I could only afford it because of the sweet landlady of the house I stayed in that shitty town.
That night after I left the house, I went straight to her and asked for my house rent back. Surprisingly, she gave me back everything and even more. But that wasn't really what touched me. It was her words.
She had held my hand with all that cash, looked into my eyes, and said, "Survive. Don't let them break you again. You have to survive."
I didn't know what she meant by that or the 'them' or 'again.' But I was grateful for her. I was the one who did the breaking, and not the other way around so she really didn't need to worry. But her words still lingered.
This wouldn't be the first time, though. Sometimes, strangers would just walk up to me, give me things, and say some kind words. Other times, they ran from me in fear. Like they could see something I couldn't. So some admired me, while some feared me.
So back to the present, I got a small apartment in this new town, and I immediately found a job as a waitress in a big café. It was a little far from where I stayed, but I had my bike.
I immediately knew this was going to be my place, and no stupid temper of mine was going to take that away from me. I was going to go to therapy. I wouldn't let the rage win and take this good thing I've found.
I just closed from work, and I was waving goodbye to my co-workers, my hair in a messy bun that was falling into my face, my body tired, and a real smile on my face.
This was what living felt like. I had no friends, though, but that didn't matter. I had a life.
I headed to the back just where my bike was parked, but then a scene made me pause.
There were two men there—two really tall men. The one with messy black hair was pinned to the wall by the one with really, long black hair. And… I squinted my eyes to see better, and it was really what I thought it was. What the fuck, was that a sword strapped to his back?
I thought they were about to make out, but when I heard the one with messy hair shout, "Let me go, you princely prick!" I immediately knew that wasn't the case.
A prince? Yeah, that was a joke. What will a prince be doing in a city like this and not in some castle? My interest got spiked up and I moved closer to them so I could make out what they were saying without being noticed.
"Talk to me again with such foul language and I will rip out your tongue with my bare hand," the supposed prince snarled into Messy Hair's face.
Oh, this sounded serious. Supposed Prince really looked like he would make true on his threat. Was I going to be a witness? Fuck, I didn't want to be. Just as I get my bike and leave, Messy Hair punches Supposed Prince.
They both froze, Messy Hair's eyes wide.
If you asked me later, I wouldn't be able to describe what I felt in that moment, but what I could say now was that the air went still, like the wind was holding its breath, and then the ground trembled. Just a slight move, but it was a tremble regardless.
But that wasn't even what made me gasp. Supposed Prince had tattoos on his arms, and they moved. I swear, the tattoos moved.
Messy Hair noticed this too, and he shook. "Hey, man, listen–"
Supposed Prince lifted Messy Hair off the ground, his feet off the ground and then he threw him like a rag doll. I watched with my eyes wide as Messy Hair went flying, but then the look in my eyes turned to fear as I saw Messy Hair's flying body heading toward my bike.
"No!" I screamed, running towards my bike like I could shield her from what I knew was coming. But I was too late.
Messy Hair crashed into it, and my bike didn't just break—no. No, that would be too merciful—she shattered. She split apart, pieces of her flying all over the place. I screamed like I just lost a part of me, going down on my knees as my eyes watered.
"Oh no. No. No. No."
I crawled to what was left of the bike, which was nothing. There was no repairing her. She was completely gone. This bike was all I had. Something I owned and that belonged to me. I've had her since I was sixteen, and she became a part of me since then. And now she is gone. "Gone…"
That familiar well of rage, of pure wrath, began to rise. And I could see the rage, see its ugly head. Remember when I said it was like a living thing inside me? That was no joke. It was like there was a monster living inside me. A monster filled with nothing but rage. A monster that just wanted to kill and destroy. And right now I could feel it taking over. I could feel the familiar burn. The ache. Like it wanted to tear out from beneath my skin. It wanted to be free.
I felt eyes on me, and I slowly raised my head. Messy Hair was standing barely two feet away from me, his eyes wide with terror and shock. And as soon as his eyes met mine, he gasped in pain, holding his chest as he went down on his knees, tears suddenly flowing from his eyes.
Something shifted beside my corner and I turned in that direction. It was Supposed Prince. He had the same look in his eyes that Messy Hair had, and this time when his tattoos moved, I was sure of it. This time, they glowed too.
And then he also gasped, the look in his eyes turning to pain.
"You're her," he whispered as he went down on his knees, his eyes wide, blood coming out of his nose. "It… clicked."