Bring Me Back (L.R.H)

~1~

Above is what Aly looks like :-)

/ALY/
6:30 p.m July 2
I plugged my headphones in, hoping the music would drown out the sound of my mother's voice. Hoping  the music would drown out the sound of the demons inside of my mind.
I lay against my headboard just listening to the words fall from the musicians' mouth.
"If you feel so walked on, so painful, so pissed off. You're not the only one" it rang through my ears. I just stared out the window, watching a small bird hop around a tree branch.
There was a thump at my door and then it pushed open. I looked away from the bird to see who entered my room. I scooted as far back on my bed as I could.
He leaned against the doorframe, a devilish smirk plastered across his face. "I'm taking your mother out tonight," He exhaled. "Don't fuck anything up while we're gone, I don't want my house messed up." He turned to exit my room.
"This isn't even your damn house." I muttered, rolling my eyes.
I thought my voice was low enough that only I could hear what had escaped my lips. Boy was I wrong.
The unpleasant man halted. He stormed over to me ripping my earphones out and grabbing me by my hair.
I winced in pain as he tugged my head so his mouth was against my ear. "Listen you little bitch, this is my house now, you're mother is mine, and you are mine. You'll take orders from me. Unless you want punished you won't back talk me got it?"
I didn't answer. Instead I just sat frightened, afraid to say the wrong thing or make the wrong move.
When I didn't respond he slammed my head against the headboard. "Did you hear what I just fucking said to you?" He yelled.
"Yes! Please just stop!" I cried.
He released my hair from his grip and walked out of my room slamming the door shut.
I wiped the tears from my eyes and entered my bathroom.
I was a mess. My mascara ran down my cheeks causing black to stain my tan skin. My hair was disheveled and the side of my head was bleeding. I removed all of my makeup, or what was left of it and pulled half my hair into a messy bun, leaving the rest down.
I put on an gray midriff t shirt, denim jacket, black skinny jeans and black converse. I applied mascara, foundation, light brown eyeshadow, and nude lipstick.
Grabbing my phone, charger, bag, headphones, journal, and a pack of gum I exited the house.
I walked down the sidewalk until I reached the abandoned park. I climbed the tree in the middle, pulling out my phone. I dialed her number.
"Can you meet me?" I asked.
"I'm on my way." She replied.
The line died, and I pulled out my journal. I scribbled some drawings as I waited for her arrival.
About ten minutes later I saw her platinum blonde head through the branches. She hulled herself up next to me.
I shut my journal, holding it my lap.
"What happened this time?" She asked.
I turned my head, lifting my dark brown hair so she could see the gash.
Her eyes welled up with tears.
"You can't stay there anymore Aly. You're gonna die before you turn 18."
"It's not that simple Thea, I can't just leave." I crossed my arms.
"You can stay with us. My parents love you, you know that." She urged.
"My mom would never let that happen. She keeps me around because she enjoys watching me suffer," I said. "I've always wanted to run away. Run away from her, the creepy men she drags in every month, the torment." I looked down.
Thea hesitated. "I know," she wrapped her arms around me, letting me cry my eyes out. "I know."
Thea was my best friend, she had been since 5th grade. She's been there through it all: my dad dying, my mom turning into an alcoholic whore, my brother leaving, even through Trevor.
That tree was our special spot, we went there to get away. Thea named the tree Bruce, she always tries to brighten my moods. No one else ever went to the abandoned park tucked away in the woods. It was ours.
We talked for a while, listened to music and doodled. Soon it was 8:00 and dark out. Thea said she had to go or her parents would worry. I wonder what it's like to have someone care about you so much? I have Thea, but sometimes I feel like it's not enough.

I strolled down the sidewalk. The variety of people in this town amazes me. I passed so many different types of people. Maybe one day I'll pass by them again, and take the time to learn their stories. But not tonight, tonight I just want to stop feeling.
A blinking red neon sign read: Rough Day Record Store. It was a a building stuck in between bigger ones.
I've lived here my whole life and never seen it before. The sign on the door said it was "open until whenever", the lights were on, dim..but on.
I pushed open the door and of course a little bell jingled. There was no one in sight, just a dimly lit room tinted purple, and hundreds, no thousands of records lining the selves and walls.
"Hello?" I called out to no one in particular. I didn't get a response. I walked through the aisles, running my finger across the vinyls.
When I turned the corner into aisle 6 I almost didn't conceal my shriek. Sitting on the floor was a boy. He had bulky headphones on his head, and he was organizing some records on the bottom shelf.
He was humming something, and when he noticed I was there his eyes grew wide. He pulled out his cellphone and paused the song. He placed the headphones around his neck, stood up and brushed his hands on his jeans.
"Hi...uh..hey welcome to Rough Day. Sorry I didn't hear you come in, these damn things." His voice faded as he took the headphones and tossed them aside.
I didn't know what to say to this boy. I was instantly nervous though, because he was the most mesmeric boy I'd ever seen. When he realized I wasn't going to speak he filled the void of silence.
"I'm Luke," He extended his hand. "If you need anything, just yell." He gave me a warm smile.
I took in his full appearance. His hair was styled in a blonde quiff, he had a small hint of scruff along his jaw, a black lip ring curled around the left side of his lower lip. He was very tall and sort of lanky. His legs were clad in black skinny jeans, he wore a black Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt, and he had piercing blue eyes. Those eyes.
I nodded and turned to aisle 7. Rummaging through the punk rock records I couldn't stop thinking about that boy and his hypnotic blue eyes.
Picking up the album "Never Mind The Bullocks Here's The Sex Pistols". I examined it for a moment.
"No Feelings is my personal favorite off that album."
I looked up to find Luke leaning against the shelf. His hands were shoved into his pockets.
"Hm. 'Anarchy In The U.K' is usually most people's favorite," I smirked. "However I prefer 'Pretty Vacant'."
"So she speaks!" He grinned. I looked at the floor, a small smile playing at my lips. "I've only met one other girl that likes The Sex Pistols."
"Unfortunately so have I."
"It sucks that good music is dying, pretty much everyone listens to that damn techno or rap." He chuckled.
"Tell me about it," I laughed. We started at each other for a moment that ended all too soon, I was captivated by him. "I uh..I'm ready to check out." I said.
Sadness flashed behind his eyes for a split second, then he smiled. "Alright, right this way." He led me to the counter. That couldn't have been sadness..could it?
I placed the record in the counter and pulled out my cash. Luke put the record in a bag, then held it toward me. "It's on the house."
"Oh no I couldn't possibly take that for free." I shook my head.
"I insist." He slid it toward me.
"I have to pay you." I slid it back toward him.
"Tell you what mystery girl, you tell me your first name and that's payment enough." He smiled a kind smile.
"Luke." I pleaded.
"Holy shit we have the same name!" He laughed. Obviously he was going to win this battle.
I grinned. "My name is Alyse."
He bit his lip, and god was it the most attractive thing in all of eternity. "Alyse. That's a very lovely name."
"Thank you," I blushed. I took out a five dollar bill and exchanged it for the record. "At least take this, as a tip."
I started towards the door. "Alyse!" He called.
I slowly whirled around. "Yes Luke?"
He scratched the back of his neck and tugged at his lip ring again. "Do you want to go somewhere with me?"
I took a moment to think. Go home to your abusive mother and her nasty boyfriend, or go somewhere with a stranger.
"Like an adventure?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Like an adventure." He smiled.
I nodded, a real genuine smile spreading across my mouth. That's something rare nowadays, a genuine smile from Aly Cohen.
He shut off the lights, locked the door, and led me to his car. He opened my door for me.
Once he got in I asked, "You're not a serial killer are you?"
Luke chuckled. "Why...do I give off the Patrick Bateman vibes?"
I laughed. "Well if Patrick Bateman was punk rock.."
"Hey!" He put his hand over his heart, "that actually hurt me."
"So where are we going Patrick?" I traced the hole in my jeans.
"That my dear, Annie Wilkes is a surprise." He looked at me with a smirk.
"I am not Annie Wilkes." I crossed my arms.
"And I am not Patrick Bateman." He smiled.

Please let me know what you think! I'm very nervous but I know where I want to go with this story and I hope you enjoy it!