Belle's Need Love Too

Chapter 9

     Reluctantly, yet carefuly. I held unto this man's powerful frame as it ushered me down three flights of stairs. Even more out of character for this place, he didn't pester me abou thow much I owed himor how lucky I was to have his aid. His attitude was refreshing. The way I was treated like a human being made me feel like the worst kind of ass for thinking of him in such negative terms.As he paraded down three flights of dark, wide, badly railed flights of stairs, I considered how I displayed the same norms as any common ruffian.

A little self chastization goes a long way, when trying to forget that youre a human pincushion. I mused

 To heal a little of my sorrow, and to pass the time until I made it to the mysterious locale, I asked TDF for a little background information.

" I know it's late for me to pry into who you are seeing as I've encountered you on numerous paralyzing, no pun intended, occasions. But what, might I ask Sir, is your name?" I voiced with a bit of mufle due to the fact that I was upside down and bumping into my own backpack, as the person in question trailed to the final step.

" Aww. Why'd you call me 'Sir'?" he groaned," I'm pretty sure there ain't a far enough for you to call me Sir."

  In my mind, my face twisted up into a scowl while my mouth crowed,"EWW PEDOPHILE!" Seeing as that would be socially inappropriate behavior for anyone of any upbringing -I kept my silly thoughts where they elonged, zipped tight in my head. Hoping I didn't sound too passive agressive, I outwardly laughed it off, hoping to sound cute and clueless; rather than like a well-trained assasin saying "Watch you're cock, Fucker. Besides, my future partially rested in this fob's hands.

  Clearly, I have an issue with most people relations, as well as those of gender and people with light skintones. If one were to look beyond my semblance, to peer into my most deep-seated psyche -they would encounter sheer disturbance at all of the musings and impressions of hate one being managed to harbor. A myriad of these conclusions,have been derived from a scornful reality. One nearly forgotten reality, which at its beggining, wasn't an austere and thick-skinned wasteland. A reality filled with innocence, smiles, laughter, hope, and dreams was snatched from my devestated hands. Now I had become like the Isrealites of the Bible in the book of Ezekial, my esscence had been wrenched so deeply from me, I had suspicion to belief that they had been wrenched from my body, to lie somehwhere in a pile of bones.

Before any more tears were wasted, I coerced myself to dash back to the concrete unsurity that was the real world.

In an effort to put at ease my little head, in the shallow light heartedness that was loved so much by society, I spoke to Boatperson.

"You never answered the question," I pressed, finding that I wasn't the only human vessel of bitter gall these days. Boatman's expression was distant and gloomy, before he quickly corrected it with a sheet of cool and alert composure.

"We're here," John Doe announced as he reached the bottom step, in the dark staircase.

  I looked, in wonder as to where our destination was located, to find a pale, wood-stained door. The same door in which the now terminated, Coach Lancaster, housed his office in the boys college worthy, gymnasium.