Blood and Angels

Saved By A Boy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdIzwOYeK60 (song to go with the part) Set Me Free- Casting Crowns

That night, when Alex went home, she saw something she was used to seeing. Her home wasn't the best place to be, and not the ideal place for a child to be raised in. Her father was a drunkard, and her mother was afraid of him. Every day for Alex was a struggle to stay away from her parents until she could make her way back to school, preferably without being beaten bloody. Jessie and Jordan knew about this, but they didn't talk about it. After all, who would want to talk about living conditions like that?

Her parents weren't usually home yet, and wouldn't be home until late because her father would probably end up at a bar and her mother would be working hard to pay for it, but today was different. Her father was home and drunk as always. He found her walking through the door, and he, with a belt in his hand, approached her, walking in a line that wasn't anywhere near straight. 

"Well if it isn't my little mistake," he said, his words slurring out. "Why are you here?"

"School's over. Usually kids go home after that happens." Alex said matter-of-factly.

"Don't get smart with me you little-"

"David," she cut him off. She hadn't called him "Dad" in years. "I don't want to listen to this. You're drunk; why don't you go to bed?"

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" He glared at her in a hostile manner. Here it comes, she thought, she was about to get beaten. That was one of his many drunken habits. Sometimes even one of his habits when he wasn't drunk. "You're just a little mistake of a girl who needs to be put in her place, aren't you? Say it," he hissed, "tell me what you are." 

Alex was silent and fearful. Sometimes she could talk him into going to bed or leaving her alone or something, but when he began trying to make her do things other than getting him another beer there was no getting out of it. He raised the belt and brought it down on her shoulder, leaving a large red mark on her collar. She cried out, dropping her bag. 

"Didn't you hear me?" He demanded, "Tell me what you are!"

He brought the belt down again, but this time she was done. She ducked down and swiped the switchblade from his back pocket and made a run for the door. Though he grabbed her wrist and demanded to know where she was going, she yanked her wrist back and darted out the door, her father following her close behind, but he was drunk and could hardly stand. He wouldn't get that far, she knew that much. He stumbled down the front steps as she dashed down the street and found a back alley twelve blocks away, near a sort of biker hangout. No one was there, thank God. 

She sat down on the pavement and cried. Samuel was gone and her father was getting worse, but this was hardly the worst thing she'd seen from him. It was only going to get worse at her house, and it wasn't as if Samuel was coming back to help her. So much for having a guardian angel.

She drew the switchblade from her pocket. She knew it was a bad idea- she'd been told that before, but she didn't want this anymore. Life, that is. She raised the knife to her throat, ready to end it all.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Came someone's voice came from the end of the alley. Her face was soaked with tears and her knees began to give out from under her when she heard the voice. Someone caught her before she hit the ground. Sobs racked her entire body as a strange boy supported her. "What's going on?"

"I'm just... it's too hard to carry on. Could you leave me alone for a while?" Alex asked helplessly.

The boy shook his head. "So you can slit your own throat? No way. Tell me what's going on."

Alex looked at him suspiciously. "Who're you?"

"Oh, sorry," he said, smiling to her. "I'm Damian. What's your name?"

"Alex. I'm Alex." She said, wiping tears from her eyes. Damian smiled at her again. As they sank down to the floor and leaned against the wall, he put an arm around her shoulder like they hadn't only just met, but rather like he'd known her his entire life.

"So, Alex," he began, "why were you trying to take your life?" He asked casually.

"I don't want to talk about it right now." She answered. 

"That's okay, you don't have-"

"My father. He's a drunkard- he abuses me and my mom, and he's getting worse. My life's been crazy lately, and I don't know what else to do about it." Alex blurted. In truth, she did want to tell someone. Anyone, at this point, who would listen to her.

Damian nodded comprehensively. "I see. So what're you doing out here?"

"I think you know. He's not going to change, and it's not going to get better for me. I'm ending it." She said, thankful that this boy was listening. 

Damian considered this. After a moment or two, he looked at her, considering. Then, in the most serious tone he could use, said, "Do you need a place to stay?" 

Alex was shocked. She didn't know what to say- should she say yes? She did need a place to stay, to tell the truth, but this boy was a stranger. She could always stay with Jessie or Jordan, but her father would find her there, wouldn't he?

"Yes, thank you."

Damian stood and helped her up, taking her hand. "Follow me."

He lead her to a motorcycle at the end of the alley and helped her onto it. She looked at him confusedly. "This is my ride," he explained. He hopped on in front of her and she locked her arms around his waist as he started it up and drove away.

For the first time, Alex actually stopped to think about what Damian looked like. He was a tall boy with thin dark hair the color of the night sky that hung around his face. His eyes, too, were extremely dark. His skin was pale and his shoulders were broad. His muscles swelled under his tight black shirt with a Guns 'n' Roses logo on the front. His left ear was pierced at the top, where a single silver stud stuck through. His jeans were baggy, but held up by a leather belt, and his tennis shoes were worn. His cheek bones stuck out of his face sharply and the bags under his eyes showed that he hadn't gotten much sleep lately. 

She, on the other hand, fell asleep on his shoulder on the way to his apartment.