Two Broken People

The Reality Bug Bites

                  

                                                                                          Tori's POV

                                 

   After I sat back down I went back to the restroom to look and see if my phone was in there. Of course it wasn't. He took it. I was beyond frustrated. 'Great. A junkie has my phone!', I thought as I almost slammed the bathroom door. I needed to calm down. I took my seat again and joined in the mindless chatter that only my cousins, my mom, and sister where in on amongst themselves. No one could talk to me because of the three things I happened to not possess. A home of my own. A husband. A career. They didn't ask about my interests, hobbies or anything else. Not that I could give them any real answer. Ever since the breakup, and really, my grandmother's death, I've been a loner. I've grown uninterested in the things (hobbies) I used to do, and I was talented. I could sing ever since I was three. I got into dancing in my sophomore and junior year of high school when my family lived in Texas. I could write stories, draw, paint, and sew. I was involved in drama class, school plays, and musicals all throughout high school and middle school. I never stopped doing something. That is....until everything turned dark. 

  There was no light coming from the end of the tunnel. I had thought I hit rock bottom. I kept up this act for a while now and not everyone was convinced. My family knew I had a problem when I stopped doing the things that I loved. I knew they cared about me, even if they were kind of bad at showing it. They gave me my space, which I was more than happy about, but life got lonelier and lonelier as time ticked on. I didn't want to give up on life, but my quest for a love life got me down. I changed my hair color before coming on this trip to New York because my cousin needed the money. I honestly didn't care if it looked bad, because I was just done with trying. I used to care very much about what my hair color looked like, but as this depression in my heart grew I cared less and less about my appearance and more and more about when I could be alone because I hated faking a smile, or pretending to be ok around my family. But when you have a family that you love, you try to please them. I was a people pleaser, but also a loner. I cared about my family, and if my cousin was bored and needed money, I would be her ginny pig. 

  The man. The one with the black hoodie and penetrating green eyes. Elliot Alderson. He flooded into my thoughts. He was a little scary, to be honest. The way he stared at me, kissed me. Something told me he was a little more than messed up in the head, but there was something underlying about his persona. He seemed......lonely. Just like me. Most people are lonely, but then again most people have someone to go home to. And I have my family. Who did he have? What drove him to do drugs? How could he get help? Did he want help? His kiss left a bad taste in my mouth, but I would never forget it. It was a dirty slice of heaven. Was it my impulsive desire to be touched by a man that drove me to kiss back a stranger of all people in the bathroom of a restaurant? Or was it my completely devastating loneliness that caused me to act out impulsively by letting him kiss me? He was a good kisser, but he tasted like smoke. 'Bad habits die hard.', I thought. Someone nudged my shoulder. "Tori. I know you don't wanna be here with everyone else but could you please stop zoning out. People are starting to stare.", my little sister whispered in my ear.  

  I loved my little sister, but she was so bossy. And I was the older sister by four years. I sighed, and looked up from my plate, and forcefully smiled. I had to continue this act all the way through dinner, and the ride to the hotel. Then I could actually breathe. Elliot Alderson. Elliot Alderson. Elliot Alderson. Elliot Alderson. I repeated the name in my head all the way through dinner while fake laughing, fake smiling, and eating my food. It was exhausting. I have never been great at multitasking. Elliot Alderson. Elliot Alderson. Elliot Alderson. Elliot Alderson. Elliot Alderson. Elliot Alderson. I don't remember names. I remember faces. I repeat names when I hear them for the first time. It helps me remember them. I wonder if he'll remember me. Probably not, since he was doing drugs. I can't believe I helped him. I erased all evidence. I didn't call anyone to help him. I just let him walk away. I felt horrible about that. I wonder if he made it home. I wonder if he's passed out by now. The thoughts bugged me as we pulled up to the hotel. I sighed as I got in the elevator. 'He's got my phone.', I thought fuming with frustration. But I was also feeling something else.....worried. About him. I didn't even know where he lived.