Leading Her from the Darkness

CHAPTER 3

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Around 1:00 AM, I decide, after spending hours unpacking and getting our apartment situated, that I need to get some fresh air. I pull on a pair of ripped black skinny jeans, and a black cropped top with thick off-the-shoulder straps, and a plunging v-cut—which does nothing to hide my scars—so I grab a matching jacket to provide a semblance of comfort. Pairing my outfit with some black leather boots, I glance into the mirror. The tattoos on my upper arms make it appear as though my shirt has quarter sleeves.

On my left arm, I have a Ganesh—the god of beginnings and remover of obstacles—with sunflowers surrounding its head. My right arm has a wolf, whose face is half realistic and half of a floral mandala design. The tattoo on the front of my right thigh is a large lotus flower with crystals draping off the bottom like a chandelier.

Apart from those three, there are smaller ones scattered around my body, staining my skin with unpleasant memories. Mostly, all they do is remind me of the impulsive decisions I made while trying to escape from feeling so numb. The same goes for the slew of piercings I've obtained over the years. Ears, nose... other places. Needle therapy, I like to call it. I just wanted to feel something. Even if it was only temporary.

Combing my fingers through my waves, I tear my eyes away from my reflection and turn to leave the apartment by myself. Lily passed out mid-way through, attempting to organize her room. I'm left to my own devices while wandering around this vast city, taking in the sites, architecture, and the NYC nightlife. What else should the girl who never sleeps do in the city that never sleeps?

We live directly above a mom-and-pop grocery store that carries all the basics. Which is fine by me because I cannot cook to save my life. I have grown rather proud of my microwaving skills, if I do say so myself. I refuse to touch the big, angry box of fire that some might call a stove. I won't lie; I've caught a couple... few things on fire back in the day. Lily isn't much better. Although, she can at least put frozen meals in the oven without requiring an extinguisher like I do. So, there's some hope for one of us.

Two blocks down, there are some bars and restaurants lining the roads. Catty-corner from the Irish pub on this side of the street, The Claddagh, seems to be a massive dance club with blacked-out windows. The only reason I came to that conclusion is because of the lights and bass-filled house music seeping through the doorway every time the bouncer grants someone in line access to enter.

As I walk past the club, a group of four men—who are undoubtedly shitfaced—are loudly catcalling after women as they traipse by in their barely-there glittery dresses, and pumps. I duck my head immediately while passing, hoping to blend in and go unseen. But as my luck would have it, I am their next target. Unlike the gorgeous, bougie girls prior to me, who smiled and did their cliché hair flips, soaking up the attention during their 5 seconds of fame; I ignore the tasteless comments and keep on walking.

If only it were that easy.

Apparently, they didn't appreciate getting brushed off, causing them to turn around and start following me down the sidewalk. In their drunken state, they yell things through their slurred speech, such as...

"Hey honey, we just wanna talk!"

"Awe come on! Where are you going?"

"Don't you wanna have a good time?"

"We can show you a good time, baby!"

Panic begins to set in, and I second guess my decision to walk around this city alone at night. I pick up my speed, wrapping my arms across my stomach protectively, hoping they'll take the hint and give up.