incandescent ²

01. cupid's bow

lauren
tw. mentions of rape and suicide

i lace up my sneakers and put my hair up in a tight ponytail. after making sure my sister is fast asleep, i stealthily make my way out of the room. well, normally i would go through the door, but i'm feeling oddly adventurous, so i clamber out the window. i'm standing on the balcony that's by my room's window, the night breeze blowing through my hair, creating a soothing sound as it whizzes past my ears.

the plan is simple. it's not a plan in itself, more along the lines of an impulse, but i always run at night. i've been doing it since i was twelve: it helps me clear my head.

all i have to do is make a quick run to the drugstore before it's too late to head to the park.

the park is amazing at night. it sort of looks like a wonderland of some sort. a very rundown wonderland, but still a wonderland.

my feet pick up their pace as i stumble my way through the garden's bushes. it's nothing thick, just ornamental flowers. my mom's a florist, but as a hobby. tonight is different from every other night. we're expecting a meteor shower, or maybe a shooting star or a comet, i really can't remember, but it's something starry and celestial, and i love starry and celestial things.

of course, no one is out to see it, because adults couldn't care less about huge rocks falling from the sky, and they wouldn't let their kids out either. even if they did, most kids my age would be more interested in parties than stargazing and hoping a meteor crushes them to death. i guess they could also watch the stars at a bonfire, so their morals aren't all that messed up.

i'm already in downtown avenue, and it's the part of my run that scares me the most. you'd think i'd avoid it after what happened a few years back, but i don't care anymore. i don't care about anything, so why would i put any effort into keeping myself safe?

it's almost eleven p.m., and the drugstore closes at eleven. hopefully i can make it there in time. i just have to push through. i might have a fractured knee that hurts really bad, but i can't not go to the drugstore. i can't sit at home and watch my life pass as the days go by. i have to live before i'm unable to keep living.

i rub my hands together as i make my way through the smelly alleyway. it's horrible in the daytime, and i'm slightly happy i can't see any of the dead rats that litter the street.

"what's a pretty girl like you doing all alone at a time like this?" the voice sends a jolt through me, and i cross my fingers behind my back, hoping for a miracle. hoping i'm just imagining things.

it doesn't work.

i swallow my next words, because i want to stay as quiet as possible, but it's no use. he's seen me, and i can only hope there's one of him and not more, because i barely have the energy to kick a man in the groin.

"tell me, why are you wandering the streets? do you not have a home? are you one of us? you're like me, aren't you? like them." by the light of the moon and stars, i see two girls passed out on the dirty floor. it looks like their hands are tied and my heart rate speeds up.

i don't want to think about what could be hiding in the shadows. i don't want to think at all. i just have to get out of here somehow.

the drugstore isn't too far from here, and i know screaming probably won't help, but it's the best option i have. "help! please!" a hand clamps over my mouth, muffling my screams.

maybe i should have postponed going to the drugstore.

i would bite his hands, but i don't want to catch something. biology may not work that way, but his palm is sweaty and everything smells like a typical alleyway. for once in my life, i wish i was at home. even the first few times this had happened, i almost didn't care. all i did was cry; i couldn't even get a punch in or anything. am i weak? yes. definitely. do i wish I wasn't? yes. every day. can i do something about it and be not weak? no. it's a health thing, and that's why i need to go to the drugstore. by the looks of things, i probably won't make it past this night. if i do, i'll probably end up on a tree with a rope tied around my neck.

in all honesty, though, that is an overused suicide method. i want to go out with a bang, and not an explosive type of bang, even though that's not entirely a bad idea either, but i want my death to be remembered. hopefully featured on the daily newspaper.

if i'm forced to die young, i have to at least have my dying wish granted. but no one knows me, and those who do don't care about me in the slightest, which is why i'd rather be swept away by ocean currents than sit through a family dinner.

with all the effort i can muster, i raise my knee up to his crotch level. it hurts a lot and my leg drops, eliciting a whimper from my lips. i'm very pathetic in this particular moment, and i will probably get raped and drugged and then die and hopefully go to heaven so my entire existence isn't full of suffering and pain i don't deserve.

"what in the world?" i hear a voice say. someone, probably the voice's owner, turns on a very bright flashlight, shining it directly in our eyes - mine and the huge burly idiot that's holding me like i'm a pig he's afraid will run away if he lets go. "what's going on here?" he asks. i can deduce that he's a he, and i don't know whether to feel relieved or even more stressed.

"dude, thomas, let the girl go." he turns the light to the girls on the floor and he shakes his head. "seriously? you want me to get security? or would you prefer the police? because it's only a call away. i just have to say the words-"

to my sheer surprise, the man releases me from his disgusting hold, and i'm instantly grateful to be away from his horrible breath. he backs away, and i peer at the flashlight wielding figure in front of me. he approaches us, a quasi smile on his cupid's bow lips.

he's cute, yes, with his short, messy brown hair and his cupid's bow lips, and his sense of style, which immediately stands out, but for some reason, i shrink back like i'll burn if he gets too close to me, and i'm not just saying that because i think he's guy-hot.

still, he saved me, sort of, and i should be more grateful and less hermit crabby. thank you isn't that hard to say, except right now, my mouth is dry and tastes like chalk, and i don't know why.

he does a guy-nod thing, tipping his head up at me. i can't explain the gesture; it's always made me uncomfortable, especially when i'm being catcalled, but i guess he pulls it off. plus, he saved me.

"say we get out of here?" he asks. i wonder what'll happen to the girls who are passed out, and my shoulders tense up. i can't help but feel empathic, even though i know i need to hurry up and get to the drugstore, but i can't move. i can't talk to him. he's a guy, just like the rest of them. and they hurt me. who's to say he won't, too?

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a/n

i tried to keep the triggering topics off till later chapters but, this happened.
i'm sorry?
but to be honest, i love this so much. this chapter hits me so hard and i can't pinpoint why
anyway, who's excited for other chapters?