Self-Seeker

27

Too incapacitated to make her own way home, Genesis ended up having to call Hann to convey her home, which she felt incredibly guilty for. What was worse was that he insisted on aiding her up to her apartment and assisting her in getting patched up. She couldn't be more grateful for his loyalty than in that Moment.

It wasn't the first occasion Hann had seen her in such a dismantled state. He had been the doorman at the hotel she had stayed at back in England when they first met. Those were the times that she used to leave for the evening as Miss Casanova and return in the black of night as Harmonie. Hann used to let her in through the back entrance of the building, where she wouldn't be caught in her disguise.

When he found out Genesis was moving to America, he vowed that he would come with her to 'keep an eye on her', and that's exactly what he had done ever since. If there was one person she could without a doubt call family in her life, it was Hann. In return, she paid him enough money to keep his family healthy and happy, as well as reimbursing his daughters college tuition fees. Genesis could play the nice guy when she believed it was deserved.

Once Hann tended to her injuries and left, Genesis went into her bathroom and took the capsule right at the back of the medicine cabinet out. She gulped as she read the label, Prozac.

The first time Genesis was the cause of someone else's bloodshed, she was consumed by guilt and fell into deep depression. She had just escaped her father and had nobody to turn to - alone and helpless in a world she struggled to comprehend. She had regular anxiety attacks, her hands would shake and her body would be overcome by a cold sweat. Often, she would awaken screaming at the dead of night.

At the first few doctors she visited, Genesis had originally been prescribed various different antidepressants. However, as someone familiar with the forced injections of heroin and other vile substances whilst under the constraints of her father, becoming dependant on the drug was anticipated.

Her addiction to it caused her to act irrationally, having random outbursts of rage at anyone she came into contact with; there were many instances where Genesis would pick fights with complete strangers for a reason beyond her understanding. Therefore, instead of going to the professionals again she turned to people who could offer her real help in the less-than-legal market.

They provided Genesis with Prozac and it began to take effect after a few weeks. The anxiety episodes became less frequent. Soon she began to feel as if she had a purpose for living again. She realized that she didn't put all that effort into executing a plan to escape her father for nothing.

Shortly after, Harmonie was born - but that job came with a price. There were several life or death situations where Genesis had no choice but to commit murder, which naturally triggered the anxiety attacks. She didn't know the reason behind it, but she simply couldn't handle the concept of killing someone. Perhaps that was a sign of the last shred of innocence remaining inside of her. The drug helped her through that, though. It wasn't mandatory for her to take it regularly like her sleeping pills, only when she had an attack - which hadn't happened in a long time until present day.

Genesis limped back into her room, wincing with each step. She had a dislocated right shoulder, bound in a sling from her advanced first aid kit that she stored for situations just like this. Two broken ribs were wrapped on the left side of her abdomen and several bruises and cuts all over her face and body.

It reminded her of the downsides of being Harmonie, but also of how she spent a majority of her adolescent life. Beaten, bruised and bloody. She couldn't stand to look at herself, it only reiterated some of the worst nights of her life.

Genesis picked up the phone that she had thrown onto her bed, she had taken it from the man she had murdered in the alley. Hopefully, she'd be able to find out who was behind this. It seemed they had been instructed to make it look like a mugging, seeing as the taxi driver who was one of them drove off with her purse, which had her mobile phone in it. If she tracked it she would at least be able to acquire a location of where he might be reporting to his superior.