Her Diary

Her Tatters

“Draw me like one of your French girls..." Someone whispered behind Madison. She looked behind only to find her brother's friend, Jonah.

"Only if you let me lay on that door instead of freeze in the water, Rose." 

Jonah cackled, getting the attention of the other customers and employees of Subway. Madison couldn't help but laugh herself. They probably looked like bunch of morons.

"Years later and you're still pretty funny," Jonah said, taking and paying his for his sub. They both sat down on the corner booth face to face.

"Meh," she shrugged. Her back hadn't stopped aching which made it a struggle for her to sit down without cringing.

"You okay, nugget?" Jonah's face held a worried look, seeing how her nose scrunched up, brow knitting together.

"Yes, tatters, I'm fine." Madison smiled when she was fully sat on the cushions.

"Period, huh?" Midway into eating her cookie, she stopped to look at Jonah in the face with a 'really?' look.

"I see you haven't changed. It's been, what, two years?" After finishing high school, Jonah along with Madison's brother Taylor moved to New York for college. Taylor would come home for breaks but somehow, Jonah never really wanted to come by, which is why Madison was surprised to see him here in Washington, sitting in the same booth as her.

"Missed me, sweet?" ‘And he's still egotistical’, she thought.  Madi rolled her eyes at how  college hadn't changed him the least bit.

Madison was giggling as she exclaimed loudly, "Of course, honey! I don't even know how I survived for this long!" Jonah laughed some more, realizing how much he missed this. College had been a pain and this was definitely the best way to relax.

The door dinged as it opened and close when someone walked through. It caught both Madison and Jonah's attention.

There he stood, hands in his pants pocket. His eyes roamed the filled room.

"Crap, crap, crap..." Madison immediately turned her head away from his view, hanging it low, making sure her hair covered anything that could identify her.

Inside, she was hoping it would work, but little did she know her scent was one of a kind; her aura in general was unique. As Mark investigated the room, he spotted the same mint green pants and the same nude sweater she was wearing earlier this morning; the morning he hurt her. And even if he were blind with the scent of pulled pork, meatballs, and other subway subs surrounding him, that strawberry stood that lingered on her stood out. He could pick it out anytime, anywhere.

"Madison."