I stare at my mother's unconscious place on the ground. I don't feel bad, but a feeling of strong disappointment. In her - in my life and what its come to.

What am I going to do?

I scramble through the drawers in the bathroom trying to find something strong enough to wrap up my leg.

Duct tape- bingo

I wrap it tight around my thigh with the remainder gauges from the first aid between it. I need to get out of the house before she wakes up.

If she wakes up.

I slowly raise to my feet, an agonizing ache shooting through my thigh. It's so bad I start to shutter with exhaustion. Only wanting to drop back on the ground and sleep. I know I can't. I know I have to leave.

I limp my way to the stairs, using my hands and good knee to crawl up them.

It's crazy how many times I dreamt of this moment. I've cried myself to sleep justing wanting a chance. Praying to a God I don't believe in, to help. Now that it's here, I feel nothing.

Only pain, but I think that's the stab wound in my leg.

Opening the door to my room, I pick up one of the loose planks. Under it lies two thousand three hundred and fifty-eight dollars. Between bills and food for the past six years, this is all the money I have saved up.

I grab it quickly putting it in a small bag as well as some clothes. I then limp back to the door. Memories flood my mind.

This room was once princess-themed, I had a pretty pink bunk bed with the Disney princesses on a tent above. Looking back over the room, the once blush pink walls were badly covered in gray paint.

My mother was going to sell the house to pay for the medical bills. She started repainting rooms and fixing small patches.

Not too long after the fatal accident she was introduced to heroin and whiskey. The small projects were never finished and the house was never sold. Scanning back over the room I see my dirty mattress that rested on the floor. I've slept on that for eleven years, I still see the small spots of blood from the late-night beatings.

It was tear-stained so bad, that if I hadn't known its original color, I would have thought it was supposed to be that speckled gray color.

Making my way back down the stairs, I grab my keys and head out. I don't take a last look at my mother. I look at her body as an obstacle I've overcome. I'm still not relieved, not yet.

I leave the front door open, hoping maybe a fly will come in and lay eggs on her.

She hates flys - and I hate her

Once I'm in the car, I pull out of the driveway. Raking my brain for a place I can go. I have limited money, I don't have many friends, No family. Where the fuck do I go?

I take a quick glance at the time: 4:03 a.m.

It seemed as if I had been struggling for hours. In reality, it's only taken a few moments to change the course of my life- Deja vu.

The car jerks forward coming to a complete stop.

"No, no, no," I mutter to myself, trying to turn the key but nothing happens, "Please, no."

The one time I think I'm going to make it. This shit happens. I swear I'm destined for failure. I'm on the side of a dark road and I can't see the street signs because the closest road light has been shot out.

I grab my bag getting out of the car. Getting closer to the sign I can finally make out the lettering:

Kirkstone

Okay, that's a good 10-minute walk from the club. I need to talk to Amber, maybe she can tell me what to do.

I start at a slow pace. Knowing the 10-minute walk is something beyond my abilities at this point. I'm not sure how my leg will hold up but I have no other choice.

***

I sit down on a small box next to a dumpster.

My leg is killing me. I have no idea how long it's been or how much further I have to go. I just said to hell with it and sat down. My current mission is to slow my breathing and stop seeing stars. Fuck this.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about!"

A familiar voice booms from the opening of the alley. I peek out from the dumpster that blocked me from his view. Through the feeble light in the alley, I see his face.

It's Ben.

One of the cooks from the diner. We've always been friendly, but I don't see him as a friend. I decide to lean back farther into the brick wall.

"So when did it start?"

Another familiar voice asks. I don't even have to peek to know the owner of the voice. The deep velvety sound that I've yearned to hear more of, although, I would never ask.

I know him, but his name is still a mystery.

"It never started, I'm only loyal to you. You know that!" Ben quivers slowly backing up, his full body has passed the dumpster and I can see his whole body.

He was still in his uniform

"You of all people know how this works," Adds a different voice, "We only ask questions we know the answer to,"

Elijah

"Is this a secret you're going to take to your grave?" The handsome devil speaks up again, taunting with his words - and may I say I can barely contain myself.

"What about your kids?" Elijah's tone is dangerous. It's littered with possibilities. He speaks so that you don't know if he's bluffing or not.

"Or that gorgeous wife of yours," The smirk can be heard in his voice, "Too bad she's not faithful, she definitely not the best I've ever had,"

Ben's face falls, his hands shake.

"Don't you even start with that bullshit," The familiar devil spits, "If you gave a damn about your family you wouldn't have put them in a situation to harm them," He continues.

"Te conozco muy bien, amigo mío. Conozco a tu estuggle. No tenías que elegir esta vida, pero lo hiciste. Ahora, tendrás que lidiar con las conquencias de esta vida."

(I know you too well my friend. I know your struggle. You didn't have to choose this life, but you did. Now, you will have to deal with the consequences of this life.)

All three bodies are in view, I try to push my body even further into the wall.

But of course, it makes a sound

Ben makes eye contact with me, his eyes once dull with hopelessness gets a glint in them. He quickly grabs me by my hair pulling me back to his spot, in front of the two men. Guns shining from the small light. Even in the low light, I see his gorgeous blue eyes spark with anger and he jaw clench.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I scream from the ground.

Maybe I just have, 'Abuse me' on my forehead

That has to be why everyone treats me like a punching bag.

"Shut up, bitch," Ben seethes in a tone I've never heard from him before. It is also too close to a tone that I'm used to.

He places his hand tight on my mouth, I bite into it. Only stopping when I taste iron.

"Fucking hell," He mutters releasing both his hands. I quickly try to limp to the opposite opening of the alley. Almost as soon as I tried I fall back to the ground. My thigh making me aware of its wound.

I grind my teeth in agony, breathing deeply through my nose. Ben glares at me, reaching to grab me again.

"Leave. The. Girl. Alone." The devil's deep voice bounces off the narrow brick walls.

"You've made your choice. Hurting her isn't going to change your fate." His words are so nicely grouped. It's as if he speaks in poems.

BANG

Ben's body drops to the ground, his eyes are still open, staring at me.

Quick flashes of my brother's dead body cloud my vision. Almost as soon as it came it left. Though his dark brown eyes stay as a memory.

I try to stand again, muscular arms help me this time. Normally I would fight them off. Tell them I don't need their help. However, my leg is in so much pain, I don't care. Turning around to see his face.

His dark brown eyes look back at me.

His dark brown eyes

Visions of a ten-year boy flood my mind. His body tangled, his eyes dull. My older brother lays in that passenger seat. Not moving, he's dead. Nevertheless, those are matching eyes...

No, he's dead

I push Elijah off, shaking my head.

He's dead

I saw him.

He's dead

But that's where I've seen him, in that seat. That's where I know those eyes. I know those eyes all too well. How, though? I've seen those eyes dull of life.

"No," I shake my head, "You're my Elijah?" I ask confused and dazed. My mind jumping from reality to the past.

Blood, bright lights, and people I once thought were dead shoot through my vision at incomprehensible speeds. It confuses be from what's really happening to what's already happened.

"Lorena, you remember?" His eyes brighten, the same way I remember.

Back when things were happy. Back when he was alive- or has he always been alive?

"You're dead" I pause, "I saw- I was there."

He's just like him, it has to be.