Run Away From The Pain

Another Side

Tunnel vision. The little girl was sitting on the floor underneathe a grandiose cherrywood desk, with elegant carvings covering it. One of which happened to be the crest that was on the broach both the man and the woman in my previous dream were wearing. 
The man in the blue suit was sitting in a chair at the desk, while the beautiful child sat beneathe him, playing with an old toy horse. The elegant woman was standing him, while my father was sitting on the other side of the desk. 
They were speaking very curtly, about the child. 

"Anastasia is our daughter. She must be kept safe. There have been too many attempts on her life." The man sitting behind the desk sounded very stressed and worried. "Brother, I need you to keep her. Bring her back to the states with you. Keep her there until we are given the clear that this man has been found, and arrested." 

"What is known about this man, so far?" My father asked.

"He goes by the letters 'R.H.'. He has caramel coloured hair, and large round glasses. Other than that, we know nothing, though the Royal guard is keeping an eye out for him." The woman cut in, she remained stone-faced, and cold. 

"What if she remembers? What if she asks about you, or the palace, or the man himself? This could psychologically damage the child for the remainder of her days, if she finds out about this?" My father protested.

"She won't. She's too young." The man argued against my father's points. "Rename her. Giver her any name you like. She'll take your last name of course, but giver her any first name..."

"Fine..." My father sighed, defeated. 

"Then it's settled." The man and woman both agreed. "Anastasia Cecelia will be no more, until we can catch this man. She'll vanish, and leave for the States, tomorrow, with you. Keep my baby girl safe, brother." The man was stern. 

"Always." My father smiled. 


I woke up with a throbbing headache, and the light streaming in from the curtains of the hotel room, hurt my eyes to a degree where I groaned in pain. 

"Well, good morning to you too, grumpy." Steven chuckled. 

"Shut up." I sighed, and burried my face in a pillow. "Why does my head hurt so much?"

"Well, when you mix large amounts of alcohol, with cocaine, that tends to happen." He laughed and rolled onto his side, so he could face me.
I slowly lifted my head, and looked him directly in the eye. 

"I snorted cocaine... and then drank?!" I gasped. 

"Yeah, and damn you can party." He snickered and rolled out of bed.

"You go on today and do whatever you want, I'm just gonna lay here and die." I grumbled into the pillow. 

"Oh, don't be so over dramatic. It's just a hangover. You'll be fine in a few hours." He sighed sympathetically. "Trust me, they're not that bad. Just drink alot of water, and eat something light." 

"Well thank you, Doctor, for your wise advice." I scoffed, as I slowly tried to sit up. When I did, I put my head in my hands, in order to stop the room from spinning. 
Steven came over and sat down by me, and pulled me into his lap. 

"What's wrong? Is something else bothering you?" He asked, stroking my hair. 

"Yeah.." I sighed. "I've been having these really weird dreams about the future. Like I saw myself, and some strange man, with a little girl, and we handed her over to my father, and when they left the man and I began crying. And then I had another one last night where my father, this man, and I were discussing the little girl leaving with my father to the States, while we looked for some guy. I'm so confused by all this." 

"You definitely drank way too much last night." He chuckled a little. "But seriously, I'm sorry. I wish I could help you figure out what that all means." 
He did seem upset. 

"I don't really mind that I'm having these dreams, I mean.. they're not nightmares, anymore... and they're not about him so I'm fine I guess." I sighed, and climbed off his lap, and slowly made my way to the bathroom. I hopped into the shower, and washed away all the disgusting, sticky, feelings that were associated with last night. 
As I rubbed the bar of soap over myself, I noticed all of the scars that were truly on my body. 
It was horrific how scar-filled I was. 
Most were tiny, and could go completely unnoticed. You'd have to actually take the time to study my body, to see them. However, others weren't as much of a secret. 
I had long painful looking scars covering certain area's of my body. 
I had a particularly terrifying scar on my hip. 
It was about the length of my forearm, and dragged down from my hipbone, to the middle of my thigh. 
I shivered at the memory of receiving it. 

It wasn't anything special.. wasn't any heroic attempt at escaping. He just came home with a bad temper, and vodka seeping from his already disgusting breath. He felt the need to torture something, so he found the closest steak knife, and came after me. 

I shook my head away from the dark thoughts, and finished washing myself. 
When I got out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around myself tightly, and stepped out of the bathroom. 
I strolled over to my suitcase, which was resting on the couch on the opposite side of the room from where my bed was. 
I began to pick out clothes from my suitcase, when I heard someone clear their throat. 
I turned around to see the entire band, including Ralph, sitting on the two beds, watching me intensely. 

"Can I help you?" I muttered, and turned back to picking out my clothes. 

Steven chuckled, while the rest of the guys stared wide eyes at the parts of my body which weren't covered by the towel; my legs, arms, and upper back.

"You act like you've never seen a woman half naked before." I scoffed, and walked back into the bathroom, with the clothes I picked out. I closed the door behind me, and dropped the towel

I changed into the outfit that Joe originally picked out for me, when the band first took me shopping; a flowly white maxi-skirt, and the light silk, paisley shirt, which tied at the bottom, raising the hem of my shirt, showing off my midriff. 
I braided my hair, and quickly put on a little mascara, and a touch of liner, as per my daily routine. 
I brushed my teeth, and then walked out of the bathroom, to find the guys still sitting on the beds. 

I walked over to Stevens bed, and plopped down next to him. He smiled, and threw his arm around me. 
"I see you're feeling better." He grinned. 

"Much." I smiled up at him.
I looked around the room at the rest of the guys, who were still staring in astonishment.
"What? Do I have like, 3 heads or something?"

"Well.... You've got a huge scar on your thigh..." Joey winced
"You're not dead, considering all you snorted, and drank last night." Brad added
"And.. well....." Joe began. "You're hot." He and Tom finished, as Steven shot them both dirty looks.

The blood beneathe my cheeks boiled intensely. 
"What?" I gasped. I never thought of myself to be pretty... EVER. "I..uh... thank you."

"What? You don't believe us?" Joe seemed truly astonished, at my disbelief. 

"No.. I just... I never really considered myself to be pretty..." I paused, and then lowered my voice hoping for no one to hear. "Especially after him."

"Well you're absolutely stunning, and you should know that." Steven grinned, pulling me into him even tighter, in almost a protective sort of way. 

"Well thank you." I smiled up at him, as he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on my lips, which received some playfully mocking 'ooohs' and 'awws' from the band. 

"So what are we doing today?" I smiled around the room. 

"Well, I was thinking of trying to write some lyrics for this new album.. I wanna see what we can come up with." Steven grinned, and I could tell he was excited.

"You guys can go, I kinda want to sight see a little bit." I got up, and looked out the glass doors which lead to a balcony that overlooked Pheonix. 

"Alex...." Joe, and Steven both cut in. 

"Don't worry, I'll take Ralph with me...." I paused and turned to Ralph, "Only if you don't mind babysitting me for the day?" 

"Not at all. I can't remember the last time I was in Pheonix, anyway." He smiled. 

"Then, let's go!" I grabbed Ralph's hand, and flew out the door, waving goodbye to the band. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I continued to marvel at all that was around me, as I towed Ralph down the hot Pheonix streets. 
I'm beyond happy that I wore a light and flowy outfit today, considering the temperature was quickly rising to the 100's. 
Ralph was clad in a pair of black jeans, a muscle-teeshirt, and a suede vest, which showed off his impeccably large biceps. I was glad to have him with me today. I felt safe around him, and not just because he could intimidate anything that walks or breathes. 
He wasn't incredibly tall, probably around 5'10" or 5'11", but he was extremely built and looked the part of 'body-guard' down to a T. 

His long black hair was slicked back, and dark sunglasses covered his even darker eyes. 
Tattoos covered his muscles, and he was actually quite terrifying, physically. 
His personality, however, resembled that of a new born kitten. 
He was the sweetest man I've ever met in my life, apart from my father, of course. 

Ralph always had my best interest in mind, and not just because it was his job. 
He was always looking out for me emotionally, because he knew the emotional toll that my past has on me. 

Speaking of emotional toll, if I don't get out of this hot sun, or get something to cool me off, I'm going to have an emotional break down. 

"Hey, Ralph. I'm dying... why don't we go get some ice cream or something?" I almost begged. 

"Sure thing, Alex." He grinned a large tooth bearing grin. I knew he was thinking the exact same thing. This sun was going to fry us like french. 
As we continued walking along the streets of an almost mexican looking bazaar, Ralph grabbed my hand and pulled me into the shade of an open store.

We stepped inside the building, as fans blew all around us and instantly cooled us off.
We were in the middle of what looked like an antique shop, which had a western flair. 
There were handmade dream catchers, and woven blankets, and little childrens toys cluttering the shelves that were lined along the wall. 

Ralph shuffled across the yellow painted floorboards, and stopped in front of the counter, where an older looking man was slumped over, reading a book. 
As he ordered our ice cream, an old magazine stand caught my eye, and I found a rather strange dust covered, magazine, from almost 18 years ago. 
I picked it up, and blew the dust off of it, creating a large cloud of smoke infront of me. 
I began to cough uncontrollably, but eventually caught my breathe, and peered down at the magazine. 

It couldn't be....
The futuristic version of me, and the man from my dreams were standing side by side, grinning, while holding a baby girl in their arms. 
Another child, a young boy, probably around 8 years old, was standing next to the woman.
They were all wearing the same broach.

My eyes flicked up towards the headlines.
"Hey! If you want to read it, you'll have to pay for it!" The man from behind the counter snapped me out of my concentration, and was staring at me intently, while handing two ice cream cones to Ralph. 

"How much?" I rolled my eyes.

"25 cents." He refused to get off his high horse. 

"Where I'm from, magazines were only 10 cents!" I retored. 

"Honey, magazines haven't been under 25 cents since 1971." He chuckled. 

"Fine." I grumbled, pulling a quarter out of the little bag I had slung over my shoulder. I rolled up the magazine, and put it in my bag, then walked up to the counter, and set the currency down. I turned to Ralph, who was offering me the second cone.
"Thanks." I grinned as I took the vanilla cone from him. 

We walked out of the store, licking the sweet frozen cream, as we continued down the street. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ralph jogged ahead and opened the door of the recording studio for me, as we neared the building. 
"Thank you." I smiled as I stepped into the cool building. 

I walked up to the receptionist at the front desk who was loudly popping her gum.
"Hi, I was wondering which recording studio Aerosmith was in?" I asked politely. 
She peeked over the rims of her black glasses at me, and smirked.

"Sorry, no visitors. Mr. Tylers orders." 

"But I'm with the ban-" 

"No visitors." She snapped her gum again, cutting me off. 
Ralph came up behind me. 

"Ma'am, we're with the band. I'm Steven's body guard, and this is his girlfriend Alexandra." I could hear the annoyance in his voice.
Clearly, the snotty receptionist did too. She looked up at us again, but this time, her eyes were filled with utter shock and embarrassment. 

"Oh my goodness, Ms. Hastings, I'm so sorry. Mr. Tyler mentioned that you might be coming to see them, but.. I... you...." She gave up trying to explain herself, and bowed her head in shame. "I'm so sorry." 

"It's okay. But can I know which studio they're in?" I giggled a little. It was funny to feel so important. 

"Of course, they're in studio 3. Down the hall and to your right." She blushed, as Ralph and I thanked her and headed down the hall. 
I returned the favor to Ralph, and help open the door to the recording studio for him.
He chuckled and shook his head, walking past me.

We walked into the studio, which initially was a small room, with chairs set up infront of a soundboard, that had millions of tiny buttons and knobs on it.
There was a man sitting in one of the chairs, with a large pair of head phones on his head; one of the speakers covering his left ear, while his right ear remained free.
He turned at the sound of Ralph and I coming into the room, and he just rolled his eyes.

"Please do something about them. They're acting like children." He huffed, and turned back around to face a large window, which showed the room behind us;
It was a larger room with instruments strewn across it.
It was there, that I found Steven and Joe fooling around, throwing paper balls at each other, and laughing like lunatics. Brad was sleeping on the small leather couch, that was placed in the far left corner of the room, while Joey and Tom were fucking around with beats, and riffs on their own. 

I looked to the right of the control room Ralph and I were in, and I found a door, which I'm assuming lead to the recording studio, where the boys were. 
I flung the door open, and strode into the room. I stopped about half way, and placed my hands on my hips in a motherly 'I-know-you-did-something-you-shouldn't-have' sorta way, and placed an amused smirk on my face. 
They didn't notice me for a few moments, but when they did, everyone froze in their place, almost like a cartoon, which made me burst out laughing. Steven was hovering over Joe who was lying on the floor, holding a guitar, almost like a gun, and pointing it at Steven. Brad woke up, and was inches from falling off the couch. Tom had a blank expression on his face, while Joey looked like he was caught doing something illegal, and turned bright red. 

"Come on guys, you need to start recording or doing something... you can't keep fooling around all day." I managed to get out inbetween giggles. 

They all scrambled around, and picked up their microphones, and instruments, and began to play their almost finished product of a song, which they called Back In The Saddle Again.
Though I didn't do much for it, aside from inspire Joe to begin writing it and gave him the riff, I was proud of the song, and felt like I had a part in it. 

In a way, I also felt like the song represented me a little...
I was back. I am back in the saddle. Though I'm still saddle sore, and hurt, and in pain about my haunting past, I managed to pick myself up by my boot straps. 
I'm back.