MELODY (Rewritten #1)

Addiction

Nearly two months had passed since the day I'd taken the barista job. The same hectic day I'd been fired from Valente's restaurant and the same day Tina had tried to end her own life.

Tina had returned from the hospital a week after, more detached from the world. Her night trips with Vivian continued as if nothing had happened. All the times that I'd seen her, she'd had a blank look. Spaced out. Like her mind was swimming in a parallel world that had nothing to do with reality.

Avoiding Vivian like the plague was my latest survival plan. She didn't try to annoy me again since the police investigations. But I could feel the prickling waves of dark energy radiating from her whenever we ran into each other. She would shoot me a glare, combined with a sickly sweet smile - sometimes a sleazy 'morning, hon'. I hated when she called me 'hon'. It felt like dirt sticking to my skin.

There was one rare moment, a couple of weeks ago, when Tina had been alone, without her vile cohort. I'd tried talking to her, hoping she would listen to my awkward advice. She'd come back from work in the morning and she'd been curled up on the narrow bed, her flaming, red curls tied into a messy ponytail. She'd looked like a lost child, with her scrawny body and her freckled face.

*

I shuffled to the side of Tina's bed, wringing my fingers. I was bad at giving advice. I was bad at most things, but I needed to try. It broke my heart to see her so spent. So… disconnected.

"Tina, umm, you okay?" I asked, standing awkwardly next to her crumpled bed.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, staring absently into space.

"Well, I know it's not my business, but… please, be careful."

She turned her glassy, green eyes to me, dark circles surrounding them. "Of what?"

"I mean, you know, take care of yourself." I squeezed my hands nervously.

"Why should I? Who cares?" She scoffed.

I blinked. Her indifferent reply shook me for a moment.

"I care, actually," I assured her. "And… I'm sure other people do, just talk to someone. You don't have to talk to me, but please, talk to someone."

"Talk about what?"

"Anything… Everything." I shrugged my tense shoulders. "Let someone help you."

"Too late for that." She chuckled, her tone cynical. "I don't want help anymore."

I was embarrassed and my hands were sweating, but I wanted to express how urgent and important this felt to me. How I sincerely wanted the best for her, even if I couldn't provide any help. I had to try.

"It's never too late, Tina," I shook my head, willing her to understand. "You can do it. You can get help and leave this place, and stay away from the toxic people who take advantage of you and mess up your life. You can do this. You deserve better."

It surprised me how articulate I was, speaking clearly and passionately to her. It felt like I was talking to the both of us. I needed to take courage from my own words, too, but Tina needed to flee this place more than I did. She needed to live. To have a future. To be a healthy, sixteen year old girl. To be as far away from the evil witch as possible.

"I guess you're right," she sighed, staring at the wall again, and hugging her knees under the blanket. "I can't live like this anymore, but don't worry, I'll be fine."

"A-are you sure?" I wasn't sure what she meant, but I felt a cold tightness in my chest.

"Yup. Sure. I'll take care of everything. It'll be over soon." She smiled and, somehow, she sounded more peaceful. She laid her head on the pillow, wrapped the covers around her shoulders, and shut her eyes.