Age 20 – 1 Month Before All H*ll Breaks Loose
Evie’s been gone all night. For the third night in
a row.
She doesn’t think I know.
Somehow, for some reason, that frustrates me more than heractuallybeing gone.
How can she not realize how much I love her?
I’m aware of every breath she takes, my heart determined to keep her lungs filling with air and her blood pumping for as long as possible – because life would be so dark without my Evie.
I don’t like the dark.
The dark is where the bad men made us live, forcing my mother to leave me alone time after time. She always came back covered in tears and blood.
The dark is where I, at seven years old, tried to attack one of the men who came to collect my mother and instead got backhandedso hard I blacked out.
The dark is where I was ripped out of my mother’s arms, my limbs tied together as tears streamed down my face, and my throat became raw with my pleas.
The dark is where I heard the gunshot echoing from the old warehouse as they carried my screaming form away from the only love and safety I had ever known.
Then, the dark is where they left me, only comforted by the shadows from the tall walls of Saint Mary’s as the bad men drove away and left me wailing on the orphanage doorstep.
Evie found me the next morning, screaming and crying as the Mothers tried to comfort me and warm me up from being in the cold for so long. She was only five years old, and yet, I knew she was my new safety.
It’s been almost thirteen years since I showed up at Mary’s and that hasn’t changed. Evie is still my safety and now, she’s my love – even if she doesn’t know it.
We’ve been asked countless times how long we’ve been together, or why we weren’t together when we told them we were just friends. Evie has gotten to the point where she laughs the questions off most of the time, letting an awkward silence fill the void until the person who asked realizes they messed up. It’s not so easy for me.
I want us together. I want her to know just how far I’ve fallen for her. I want her to know that her beauty nearly brings me to my knees every time I see her, and how my breath catches in my throat anytime she walks into a room. I want her to know how her singing is better than any angel and how each drawing she gives me puts a little bit of my soul back where it should be.
I’m scared, though. Terrified. Evie has the power to break my heart so thoroughly that I would never be able to find the pieces again. I wouldn’t want to.
I’ve realized, though, that I can’t continue to live in fear. In just one more month, Evie and I will take off in my newly acquired car and drive across the state to start school. Together. Just as it always has been. Just as it always will be.
It’s hard enough to live in the same orphanage as her, but when we’re in the same home, our bedrooms side by side where I could see her anytime I wanted? It’s going to be worse than the rope burns I had thirteen years ago – the ones that caused permanent scars around my wrists.
So, when we get to our new apartment, I’m going to tell her.
I’ve thought about telling her before we left, but I don’t want to scare her off and make her rethink the decision to leave with me. We need to get out of Saint Mary’s, together, and then I’ll tell her. Her freedom means too much to her, and deep down, she knows that even if she breaks my heart, I would willingly give her all the pieces wrapped in a crimson bow for her troubles.
I look across the street from Saint Mary’s and see my new-to-me 2010 cherry red Mustang sitting under the streetlight. Evie’s name shines in the moonlight from the sticker she added on the corner of the passenger window.
When I asked her what kind of car I should buy, she only gave me two requirements: it had to go fast and she had to have her name on it. The first, because she swears she’s going to take it out on a joyride, and the second, because she said no other woman is going to sit in her seat and mess it up without knowing there would be consequences. Except the word she used for woman was a lot more profane.
She’s…
A loud revving noise makes me turn my head to see a brand-new black Maserati speeding down the road – with Evie sitting in the open window.
I’m going to kill this entitled, selfish, cocky, low-life mother –
The car stops right in front of the back entrance of Saint Mary’s, the music turned down low enough as to not alert the Mothers that anyone is out back lingering. The loud engine may give away our cover, though.
Atlas turns the key in the ignition, the engine humming to a stop as Evie jumps from the window and practically skips over to me.
“Did you see that, Kor? It was amazing! I swear I’ve never felt so free!” Evie squeezes her arms around my waist before backing up to grab Atlas’s hand as he comes to a stop in front of me. “You should’ve come with us tonight! Atlas took me to this street racing thing and guess what? We won!”
