Run, Fight, Repeat

9 | Astrid

Astrid

- A couple days pass, Friday. -

It's been a few days since dinner. It's been strained. Everyone is on the edge trying the best trying to make me feel loved. Except Charles. He seems just as he was when we first met, cheerful and curious. He always asks me questions about school, the places I traveled. He even asks to see my tattoos, I show him both my thigh and arm, but not my hand cuffs. Charles would trace the lines, he thinks they are cool, not a "disappointment" or "a waste of money" like my father described them when he saw them yesterday.

Mother tried to defend him saying, "He just had a long day at the station". It seems he always has a long day. He has no idea how long my days were my entire life. Everyday felt like years! My life was close to hell! Between being just a woman, to being an object used for fighting, I was so tired, so sick of it! Did I ever get a break? No! It was my everyday life. Where I was trapped.

God, I need to leave this place. I need to find a place to stay, or maybe live. But that won't be for a couple weeks. So to get away right now, I need to find a bar. I get dressed into a deep V-neck t-shirt and pair it with extra ripped black jeans paired with a pair of combat boots. I will eventually put on a leather jacket, but just to spite my father I wear my tattoo proud as I walk down the stairs.

"Where are you going at this hour?" He asks me looking up from his book.

"Out." I answer, opening the front door. I hear him call back for me but I keep walking and then I drive down the road.

As I drive down the road, my windows are down and the cold air cools my cheeks. I can't wait to just be away from the house for a few hours. Before I know it, I'm pulling into the bar and parking my car and walking into the bar. The smell of alcohol and sweat fill my nose, it's both replalling and enticing.

I find an open stool at the end of the bar and take a seat, waiting for a bartender to approach me. "Astrid?" A familiar voice says from behind the bar.

I turn to see who spoke. Then I spot her. "Nicole?" I asked, looking at my only childhood friend.

"Wow, you're back! Been a while." She smiles.

"Yea, it has. How have you been?" I ask.

"I've been good. You?" She says.

"Well-" I can't tell her the truth. "I left to live a life." I say which isn't technically a lie. "So, what have you been up to?" I ask.

"Well, Elliot and I got married, and raised a family with our twin girls." She says with a prod smile.

"Oh really? That's awesome!" I exclaim.

"Yea, life with him is just as good as it was Freshman year." She says.

"Good, that's good." I reply.

I'm happy for her, really, I am. She deserves so much. She always was there for me when I needed her. My father only let me outside the house if it was for an academic reason. So we even made up a fake club just so we could hang out after school together. She orchestrated the entire thing. Nicole is like an angel sent from heaven. I could live a million lives and never deserve that girl.

"So, what'll it be?" She asks.

"Bourbon." I answer.

"Coming up" She says turn around to make up my drink.

After a few minutes, she puts my drink in front of me and we get talking about what I've missed. It's not much. Everyone turned out how I thought they would. The junkies turned out smart, Jocks just went to college to go, and the nerds bullied themselves until they were happy.

Life here in the Darron Town is peaceful. If my family life was the same way, I could have stayed. Played with friends, and lived a normal childhood life. But, that didn;t happen. And my life was far from normal and peaceful. Nothing I can do about it now. So I have to get over it.

"So, when did you and Eillot get together?" I ask.

"Well, we were twenty when we got married, had the girls at twenty-two." She states. "So, where have you been?" She asks me.

I take a sip of my drink. "Just about everywhere." I explain.

"Nice. Where have you been staying?" She asks me as she hands another person a drink.

"I've been at my parents house. Oh! Did you know I have a brother?" I say.

"Yea. I babysat him once or twice when he was a little kid. I would have guessed you knew about the pregnancy before you left." She says wiping a spot off on the bar top.

"Nope. I wasn't told." I try and stifle a laugh.

"Oh nice." She says sarcastically.

"But he was raised the right way." I state.

"At least one of you was." We laugh.