A love story
Chapters with * next to the number may contain sensitive content.
WARNING: contains strong language, violence, sexuality, emotional trauma, drug use, and other content suited for mature audiences. Don't read if you're a pansy.
Copyrigh...
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The building was loud with music, the vibrations of the waves spasming up my spine; pulsing, alive. I ducked under two larger men heaving a sizable couch over their heads, tossing it to the curb. My pain was dulled, still present. Sharp stabs were only triggered by harsh movements in the wrong direction. I was careful enough to only have to deal with the ache.
I climbed the steps with my hand gripping the railing, which I feared would tear from the crumbling wall at any moment and drop to my feet. I held onto the rail as if that would held me hold onto reality. Things were falling apart so fast, and my brain had a way of multiplying my anxiety that derived from chaos. I tried to focus on my boots stepping up one stair at a time instead of my sore body, my sore mind. It didn't help much.
As I rounded one of the stairwell's corners, an elderly woman came into my view. She hobbled up the stairs at such a painfully slow rate that I couldn't help but comment on the baggage that she grasped in both hands. "Hey, let me help you," I insisted, jogging to catch up with her.
She turned to me, her eyes frightened. She seemed like she knew me. "Oh, no, please, just go around me," she turned me down, trying to press herself against the wall to allow me space. I shook my head.
"Really, it's fine." I snaked my fingers around the plastic bag's handles, her hands slowly, but eventually, releasing.
"That's very kind of you," she murmured as I took the other one from her left hand.
We ascended the steps at a rate that was comfortable for her old, worn feet. This wasn't the best option for her, but it was definitely safer than using that rusty old elevator.
Once we reached her floor I noticed it was the same one as Coyote's. She was her neighbor. I gingerly set the bags down at the woman's doorstep, offering a very forced, minuscule smile.
Before she closed the door behind her, she turned to me. "Be kind to her," she said and then disappeared behind the doorframe.
I sighed heavily, flashbacks of two nights ago invading my mind. She was probably the voice I heard on the opposite side of Coyote's door.
"That's Jude?"
How did she know me? Did Coyote talk about me? Probably to complain about how much stress I caused her. I exhaled loudly, grabbing and twisting the doorknob. To my surprise, Victoria left it unlocked and I slipped inside without a sound.
All the lights were off, which suggested she wasn't home. But, drifting through the air like a velvety breeze came a noise so soft, so gentle, that it seemed to heal me.
