82
" Nope- it was not! Ava and her girls that day went, and they cut a class at some point in the day and broke into my baby. Then Ava- ‘Rubbed one out!’ that means that she masturbated, and squirted her lady- juices all over the inside of my car. Yes- and I mean it went all over. It was on my seat on the dash, on the floor, and Ava smeared what creaminess that was on her two fingers on the windows, and driver’s side vent. As her clan, sisters pissed all over the carpet on the floor, and took their dumps on the seat, and left their thongs behind. Alison, she wrote a note on her undies saying- ‘Now you have some pairs to wear!’
It was so nasty! Plus- the outside was covered and wrapped with toilet paper as well as littered with Ava and her sisters used feminine products. What is wrong with these girls? What did I do to deserve this one? Likewise, the other kids thought it was the most humorous thing, which they ever witnessed at the end of the school day. When I discovered it- You know, I was utterly sick to my stomach. I think I screamed so loudly it echoed throughout the land, and started to cry and ran while being pushed around bouncing around off their bodies, I cannot remember- I was so upset, and then the kids were all around me kicking, and pushing me from one place to another.
I was just like a hacky sack for them, until I passed out, and dropped to the hard ground. That gave them time for them to spit on me, and dump things like glue in my hair or whatever that shit was. Then what gets me is that she signed her name- Ava on the dashboard with a black permanent sharpie marker, and It reads, ‘Suck on this- Nevaeh- lick, what I gave you all up!’ and she drew a heart, with a line through it also. She wanted me to know because there was not a thing I could do about it. Depressed- to say that her juicy sprays were more yellowish, and a thick sticky white, then clear on my blue and white cloth seats. Yet, Hope had the car towed and cleaned for me inside and out, she could not believe what kids do these days.
Therefore, that was the first time that I drove my car to school and the last. That whole thing cost me a lot. I guess it is back to the bus. That is what everyone wants is it not. This completely sucked; I have a car that I cannot drive anywhere other than at home or have locked up in the barn- with the other rust bucket car. "
― , Nevaeh The Lusting Sapphire Blue Eyes
83
" Lily understood this feeling too; she knew it all too well, it is just one more thing that just keeps things building up and building up, until the end. I never realized at the time how bad the situation would become until I went through it myself. There is no meaning behind it, which is what gets me. Am I the only one or are there more girls in this hellhole like me, which I do not know about, maybe there is? The bullies harass, it is like they smell their victims or maybe they can smell and taste the blood dripping down from the gash, which they have caused from before, and then it is like you are a wounded animal on Serengeti they come in packs.
Until you have nothing- nothing left… they lick up what is left of your body time and time over, afterward you have to get up and go on with the day, knowing that you have a decision to make. What decision would you make? I know what decision I will make! Like most people my age, I do not drink and drug my brain cells away. I am not senseless or slutty, ‘I feel that being romantic is not dead, and it does exist. You just need to be with the right people, which can show you what real expressions of love are!’ So, are you like me by believing that nothing will ever destroy hope or dreams? On the other hand, are you someone like the clan? Are you going to be praised in the eyes of the fire, or the eyes of the clouds? Just like fallen angels, the ones that have fear of not standing up for what is righteous. Why, because it is more fashionable to live a life of turpitude.
If someone has the light of hope, someone is going to want to dampen the affection. Just like me- when you are single for too long people start thinking, that you are either committed to yourself or that you are a little bit crazy or gay etcetera. I know this… I am not crazy or gay or whatever is said; I just have someone that blocks me out constantly while destroying my reputation. Just think about it. All of you have grown up with the roomers, your parents believed those parents, I do not have parents to fight for me, and the rest is history. So, what she and her clan said becomes known, and that is what was implied to my image.
Is it true?
Hell no, start thinking for yourself people. Just because someone says, something about someone else does not mean that it is factual. Oh, I have tried to fix it… However, it is out of my control, little do you all know that the tower is what prevents everything from happening. It is not my choice; she knew that I was going to be the empress; instead, she made me out to be the fool. She knew that I was one of the brightest stars in the land, and she had to bring that to an end, that was the beginning of the end of holding anyone's hands anymore within the land. The friends and romances were in the retrograde I was dubbed unreachable, she made me a forbidden selection.
I had no choice but to become the hermit in the dwelling of lost and lonely dreams. To look on the bright side, all this has made me a stronger, better, more creative productive person. You cannot stop me now; I will forever shine, and guide others so that they can shine as well. Remember you are the ones listening to slandering voices. My question is why do you listen? Get to know me, and then make your judgments. Yes, it is hard for me to even get things going because the eyes are always watching, and no I am not being paranoid this is part of my true reality. Sure, the opportunity might come knocking down my door, but can you trust them, is it a setup? "
― , Nevaeh The Lusting Sapphire Blue Eyes
84
" Nevaeh- I am feeling that I am moving out of this temperance, in this transition, and passing the will of fortune. Yes, I feel that I am on my way to being a lover without the tower's knowledge. There are many in which I could choose, many chances I could undertake which I may lose or win.
But- I believe I have the right person in mind. Yes, those are very kind, but- yet I trust one more than the other. I do not know if my decision will be right, but it is someone I am going to go with, and I know that is going to be surprising to most when it happens.
Is it a fight or is it the end, are you the right one, or should I go with the other person? That might see me for who I am more than you. The judgment has come; the chariot has arrived; now it is up to you, and the divine master to tell me what I will do next. There has to be a connection inside and join me and you in this journey, on with we ride. That is if you choose not to go the other direction and hide.
Chiaz- I feel that the choice is up in the air, it is just part of the signs that are shown. I am flexible in your transitions; I know that you are the type to tell me how it is going to be. I know you are up for the challenge of the tower. Your communication skills assure that you can take on that load and comprehend any false chats that may come across your path. I know that you will have to spend your time searching for something more before you find what you are looking for was in your sight the whole time. Just like I pinpoint you as the right girl, because when giving you my heart-shaped key with the guitar pick attached. It had a meaning behind it… it signifies that I pick you to be with me and that you hold the key, if you wear it around your neck then I will know that you feel the same about me. Say you want me! "
― , Nevaeh The Lusting Sapphire Blue Eyes
85
" My Seclusion
Just like, I remember the- Fireflies at night, they all carry their- own light in flight. They fly higher and higher until they are out of sight. They are never in fear of the darkness because they carry their light. They constantly have hope, and it shines brightly. The firefly flies by, unlike me there are never shy. I am lying outside on the grounds a few feet from my home, yet I am still feeling all alone, listening to all the sounds of the night as they moan. I look at the full moon, knowing that I will be back in hell soon, seeing all the faces at lunch at noon. Wondering what is going to happen on my vacation in the upcoming summer in the months like in June. I lie on the cold hard ground outside looking up with the stars in the sky, remembering all the days flashing that have gone by, seeing all the faces that never even say hi, remembering the terror from the wandering eyes.
(Right now)
My head is pounding just like the thunder and lightning, the evil faces streaks crossed my face, with every bolt of lightning. This takes me back to when I was a little girl; I hope that the pink suspended feathers sweep them away in the white webs.
So, I can have a sunny day on all these rainy days that seem to never end, I just do not have much to say. I am not safe anywhere… the voices haunt me as they do. However, I just have an overwhelming urge to cry, all night and watch movies by myself. Like, I have done, these last two years of my high school life. Is anything going to change? Why must I live like this? Why do I keep living? Why can I not just pass on? I look out my window, and sometimes it takes me back to when I was young.
Some days I look out the window and the skies are scarlet, and that reminds me that I should be out doing things with people of my age. The summer has come and gone, and the school days have started with no one to see me, or even ask if I was alive. No one cares!
Is the plan going to work? I have no idea at this point, yet I keep trying! "
― , Nevaeh The Lusting Sapphire Blue Eyes
86
" (Lasting touch)
Oh, I still remember the last time we touched, it seemed so long ago, yet it was not that long ago really. When he touched me, my hand tingled as if he made a spark of lightning run up my arm and throughout my nerves. Which rushes to my brain and back down to my toes, and stimulates everything in between throughout me, which just turns me on, and lit me up with a white glow of exhilaration. Even from a distance, all I have to do is think about him or simply imagine, and I know he can feel me, I know we have felt one another without touching also.
As always, he feels like electricity is passing through me.
Even when he is just sitting next to me in class, or walking by me; I feel what it would feel like to have him inside of me, to pass through me as he would go in and out of my body. Yet I want the real thing! I need him; I want to feel, even more, this is good, but I want everything, I need all of him! Yes, I am still in love with that boy! It is as if I am spiritual, emotionally, and morally aware of him, and linked somehow. It is what he does for pleasure, all his sensations go through me, as mine goes through him, all we need to do is think or feel ourselves.
We both can feel each other, and that is so sensual to me, and surely to him as well. I wonder if anyone knows that? Yes, even though we do not touch in front of anyone, I can feel his lovely soul in mine. I think this gift is something, I was granted that day, I died also, and was given life ones more by Lily’s touch. Just as her touch brought me back to life, she is with me also, in many sensations, which I cannot explain, other than saying they are heavenly. "
― , Nevaeh The Lusting Sapphire Blue Eyes
87
" Lily Anderson before she fell to her death three stories down was raped by the sisters, they forced her into acts that most cannot even imagine, or maybe you just do not want to. All the same, I saw everything anyway, and I truly know what it feels, like to be in that state of affairs. If she did not want to engage in all of those activities, they would beat the crap out of her.
Lily would always show up with fresh bruises, but she always made up excuses. Conversely, I always knew who did it, but she did not say much about it. She wore them well, and she did not like to tell, mainly because she had- fear. The fear is the alternate drive to stopping anyone from doing anything. Oh yes, fear can break a person, fear can drive a person to drastic solutions or conclusions. Fear can drive some nonsense, and fear can make you brilliant. The fear does it all. Yes, fear is a death sentence, one way or another.
Either you fear living, or you fear dying. Fear comes down to a simple choice actually; do I want to live, or when and where do I want to die? Who or what is going to be the cause, and will anybody care afterward, this, or do they now? That is the fear we have when the eyes are upon us, and the spirit lives to talk to us.
Lily, had no choice, she either had to do what the sisters wanted… or be beaten with an inch of life, either way, she always ended up with markings on her body. I believe that if things would have pressed on like that, for her she would have lost her mind, yet some say she did? Like I said- time within the hellhole is a slow time, where anybody finds anything to keep their mind busy. Some draw! Some have sex! Some have sports and clubs! Someone like me has nothing to them, and yet I have it all. I know I can do anything, because I have so many god-gifted talents, and just because I am not like you, does not mean I cannot do the unimaginable.
(Alliances)
So, the question is why do we make groupings? Why do we classify people according to how they will look, speak, or the way they act? Why do we put people in classes regarding what other people think, why do we? These are some of the activities, which some do to keep their mind sharp, and the others have to pay the price. What is your thing? There are some, which cut class for recreational reasons. "
― , Nevaeh The Lusting Sapphire Blue Eyes
90
" I previously spoke to Mrs. Newton of such… She's trading your shifts. She spoke to inform you she wishes you a: 'Happy Birthday.''
‘I- yet can't come over,’ I resolved, clambering for an excuse. ‘I, well, I mustn't watch Romeo and Juliet yet for English.’
Olivia squealed, ‘You have Romeo and Juliet memorized.’
‘Although Mr. Smith proclaimed, we obliged to notice it performed to thoroughly acknowledge it that's how Shakespeare intended it to be presented.’
Marcel rolled his eyes.
‘You've already seen the movie,’ Olivia accused.
‘Although not the nineteen-sixties version. Mr. Smith said it was the best.’
Subsequently, Olivia lost the self-satisfied smile and glared at me.
‘This can be obvious, or this can be troublesome, Bell, but one way or the others’
Marcel interrupted her threat. ‘Relax, Olivia. If Karly wants to watch a movie, then she can. It's her birthday.’
‘So there,’ I added.
‘I'll bring her over around seven,’ he continued. ‘That will give you more time to set up.’
Olivia's howling sounded again. ‘Sounds immeasurable good. See you tonight, Bell! It'll be fun, you'll see.’ She grinned- the wide smile revealed all her perfect, glistening teeth-then pecked me on the cheek and danced off moving her first class before I could respond.
‘Marcel, please-’ I started to beg, but he clasped one crisp finger to my lips.
‘Let's review it later. We're going to be late for school.’
No one bothered to stare at us as we took our representative seats in the back of the classroom (we should almost every class together now-it was amazing the favors Marcel could get the female administrators to do for him.) "
― , Nevaeh Hard to Let Go
91
" Mindfulness is nevermore a good thing, as any other accident-prone fumbler would accept. No one wants a floodlight when they're likely to stumble on their face.
Moreover, I would extremely pointedly be asked- well, ordered really-that no one gave me any presents this year. It seemed like Mr. Anderson and Ayanna weren't the only ones who had decided to overlook that.
I would have never had much wealth, furthermore, that had never more disturbed me. Ayanna had raised me on a kindergarten teacher's wage.
Mr. Anderson wasn't getting rich at his job, either; he was the police chief here in the tiny town of Pittsburgh.
My only personal revenue came from the four days a week I worked at the local Goodwill store. In a borough this small, I was blessed to have a career, after all the viruses in the world today having everything shut down.
Every cent I gained went into my diminutive university endowment at SNHU online.
(College transpired like nothing more than a Plan B. I was still dreaming for Plan A; however, Marcel was just so unreasonable about leaving me, mortal.)
Marcel ought to have a lot of funds I didn't even want to think about how much. Cash was involved alongside oblivion to Marcel or the rest of the Barns, like Karly saying she never had anything yet walked away with it all.
It was just something that swelled when you had extensive time on your hands and a sister who had an uncanny ability to predict trends in the stock market. "
― , Nevaeh Hard to Let Go
92
" An unfamiliar kind of break survived at that table. The three of us, Marcel, Olivia, including myself hunkered down on the steep southerly end of the table. Now that is ‘superb’ and scarier (in Emmah's case, unquestionably.)
The Natalie siblings had finished. We were gazing at them; they're so odd, Olivia and Marcel arranged not to seem quite so intimidating, and we did not sit here alone.
My other compatriots, Lance, and Mikaela (who were in the uncomfortable post-breakup association phase,) Mollie and Sam (whose involvement had endured the summertime...)
Tim, Kaylah, Skylar, and Sophie (though that last one didn't count in the friend category.)
Completely assembled at the same table, on the other side of an interchangeable line.
That line softened on sunshiny days when Marcel and Olivia continuously skipped school times before there was Karly, and then the discussion would swell out effortlessly to incorporate me.
Marcel and Olivia didn't find this minor elimination fragmentary or dangerous the way I would hold.
They scarcely noticed this at all.
Characters always felt remarkably hostile at leisure with the Barn’s, around anxious for some purpose they couldn't justify to themselves.
I implied a unique exemption to that precept. Seldom confused Marcel whence very satisfied I was withstanding adjacent to him.
He deemed he was dangerous to my health-a feeling I rejected vehemently whenever he uttered that.
The midday moved briskly.
School completed, and Marcel walked me to my truck as he customarily prepared. Disregarding this time, he held the pilgrim entrance open for me. Olivia must have obtained it using his automobile home so that he could restrain me from making a charge for this.
I wrapped my arms and performed no move to get out of the downpour. ‘It's my birthday, don't I get to drive?’
‘I'm faking it's not your birthday, just as you yearned.’
‘If it's not my birthday, then I don't have to proceed to your home later… "
― , Nevaeh Hard to Let Go
93
" I was barely ever bad-tempered with Marcel, and my tone made him press his lips together to keep from smiling.
When I parked in front of Mr. Anderson’s house, he stretched over to take my face in his hands.
He handled me very thoroughly, touching just the tips of his fingers softly against my temples, my cheekbones, my jawline. Like I was exceptionally breakable.
Which was specifically the case-compared with him, at most limited.
‘You should be in a good mood, today of all days,’ he muttered.
His unseasoned breath crossed my face.
‘Moreover, if I don't want to be in a good mood?’ I asked, my breathing irregular.
His golden eyes smoldered. ‘Too bad.’
My head was already spinning by the time he leaned closer and pressed his icy lips against mine. As he intended, no doubt, I forgot all about my worries and concentrated on remembering how to inhale and exhale.
His mouth lingered on mine, cold and smooth and gentle until I wrapped my arms around his neck and threw myself into the kiss with a little too much enthusiasm. I could feel his lips curve upward as he let go of my face and reached back to unlock my grip on him.
Marcel had drawn many careful lines for our physical relationship, with the intent being to keep me alive. Though I respected the need for maintaining a safe distance between my skin and his razor-sharp, venom-coated teeth, I tended to forget about trivial things like that when he was kissing me.
‘Be good, please,’ he breathed against my cheek. He pressed his lips gently to mine one more time and then pulled away, folding my arms across my stomach.
My pulse was thudding in my ears. I put one hand over my heart. It drummed hyperactivity under my palm.
‘Do you think I'll ever get better at this?’ I wondered, mostly to myself. ‘That my heart might someday stop trying to jump out of my chest whenever you touch me?’
‘I hope not,’ he said, a bit smug.
I rolled my eyes. ‘Let's go watch the Capulets and Montagues hack each other up, all right?’
‘Your wish, my command.’
Marcel sprawled on the couch while I started the movie, fast-forwarding through the opening credits. "
― , Nevaeh Hard to Let Go
94
" No, I'll mostly be watching you, anyway.’ His fingers traced patterns across the skin of my arm, raising goosebumps. ‘Will you cry?’
‘Probably,’ I admitted, ‘if I'm paying attention.’
‘I won't distract you then.’ But I felt his lips on my hair, and it was very distracting.
The movie eventually captured my interest, thanks in large part to Marcel whispering Romeo's lines in my ear-his irresistible, velvet voice made the actor's voice sound week and coarse by comparison. And I did cry, to his amusement, when Juliet woke and found her new husband dead.
‘I'll admit, I do sort of envy him here, ‘Marcel said, drying the tears with a lock of my hair.
‘She's very pretty.’
He made a disgusted sound. ‘I don't envy him the girl-just the ease of the suicide,’ he clarified in a teasing tone. ‘You humans have it so easy! All you have to do is throw down one tiny vial of plant extracts…’ ‘What?’ I gasped.
‘It's something I had to think about once, and I knew from Chiaz's experience that it wouldn't be simple. I'm not even sure how many ways Chiaz tried to kill himself in the beginning… after he realized what he'd become…’ His voice, which had grown serious, turned light again. ‘And he's still in excellent health.’
I twisted around so that I could read his face. ‘What are you talking about?’
I demanded. ‘What do you mean, this something you had to think about once?’
‘Last spring, when you were… nearly killed…’ He paused to take a deep breath, snuggling to return to his teasing tone. ‘Of course, I was trying to focus on finding you alive, but part of my mind was making contingency plans. As I said, it's not as easy for me as it is for a human.’
For one second, the memory of my last trip to Phoenix washed over my head and made me feel dizzy. I could see it all so clearly-the the blinding sun, the heat waves coming off the concrete as I ran with desperate haste to find the sadistic angel who wanted to torture me to death. James, waiting in the mirrored room with my mother as his hostage-or so I'd thought. I hadn't known it was all a ruse. Just as James hadn't known that Marcel was racing to save me; Marcel made it in time, but it had been a close one. Unthinkingly, my fingers traced the crescent-shaped scar on my hand that was always just a few degrees cooler than the rest of my skin.
I shook my head as if I could shake away the bad memories and tried to grasp what Marcel meant. My stomach plunged uncomfortably. ‘Contingency plans?’ I repeated.
‘Well, I wasn't going to live without you.’ He rolled his eyes as if that fact were childishly obvious. ‘But I wasn't sure how to do it- I knew Emmah and Joh would never help… so I was thinking maybe I would go to Italy and do something to provoke the Ministry.’
I didn't want to believe he was serious, but his golden eyes were brooding, focused on something far away in the distance as he contemplated ways to end his own life. Abruptly, I was furious.
‘What is Vulture?’ I demanded.
‘The Ministry is a family,’ he explained, his eyes still remote. ‘A very old, very powerful family of our kind. They are the closest thing our world has to a royal family, I suppose. Chiaz lived with them briefly in his early years, in Italy, before he settled in America-do you remember the story?’
‘Of course, I remember. "
― , Nevaeh Hard to Let Go
95
" Wishes
Mindfulness is nevermore a good thing, as any other accident-prone fumbler would accept. No one wants a floodlight when they're likely to stumble on their face.
Moreover, I would extremely pointedly be asked- well, ordered really-that no one gave me any presents this year. It seemed like Mr. Anderson and Ayanna weren't the only ones who had decided to overlook that.
I would have never had much wealth, furthermore, that had never more disturbed me. Ayanna had raised me on a kindergarten teacher's wage.
Mr. Anderson wasn't getting rich at his job, either; he was the police chief here in the tiny town of Pittsburgh.
My only personal revenue came from the four days a week I worked at the local Goodwill store. In a borough this small, I was blessed to have a career, after all the viruses in the world today having everything shut down.
Every cent I gained went into my diminutive university endowment at SNHU online.
(College transpired like nothing more than a Plan B. I was still dreaming for Plan A; however, Marcel was just so unreasonable about leaving me, mortal.)
Marcel ought to have a lot of funds I didn't even want to think about how much. Cash was involved alongside oblivion to Marcel or the rest of the Barns, like Karly saying she never had anything yet walked away with it all.
It was just something that swelled when you had extensive time on your hands and a sister who had an uncanny ability to predict trends in the stock market.
Marcel didn't seem to explain why I objected to him spending bills on me, why it made me miserable if he brought me to an overpriced establishment in Los Angeles, why he wasn't allowed to buy me a car that could reach speeds over fifty miles an hour, approximately how? I wouldn't let him pay my university tuition (he was ridiculously enthusiastic about Plan B.)
Marcel believed I was being gratuitously difficult.
Although, how could I let him give me things when I had nothing to retaliate amidst?
He, for some amazing incomprehensible understanding, wanted to be with me. Anything he gave me on top of that just propelled us more out of balance.
As the day went on, neither Marcel nor Olivia brought my birthday up again, and I began to relax a little.
Then we sat at our usual table for lunch.
An unfamiliar kind of break survived at that table. The three of us, Marcel, Olivia, including myself hunkered down on the steep southerly end of the table. Now that is ‘superb’ and scarier (in Emmah's case, unquestionably.)
The Natalie siblings had finished. We were gazing at them; they're so odd, Olivia and Marcel arranged not to seem quite so intimidating, and we did not sit here alone.
My other compatriots, Lance, and Mikaela (who were in the uncomfortable post-breakup association phase,) Mollie and Sam (whose involvement had endured the summertime...)
Tim, Kaylah, Skylar, and Sophie (though that last one didn't count in the friend category.)
Completely assembled at the same table, on the other side of an interchangeable line.
That line softened on sunshiny days when Marcel and Olivia continuously skipped school times before there was Karly, and then the discussion would swell out effortlessly to incorporate me. "
― , Nevaeh Hard to Let Go
96
" Marcel and Olivia didn't find this minor elimination fragmentary or dangerous the way I would hold.
They scarcely noticed this at all.
Characters always felt remarkably hostile at leisure with the Barn’s, around anxious for some purpose they couldn't justify to themselves.
I implied a unique exemption to that precept. Seldom confused Marcel whence very satisfied I was withstanding adjacent to him.
He deemed he was dangerous to my health-a feeling I rejected vehemently whenever he uttered that.
The midday moved briskly.
School completed, and Marcel walked me to my truck as he customarily prepared. Disregarding this time, he held the pilgrim entrance open for me. Olivia must have obtained it using his automobile home so that he could restrain me from making a charge for this.
I wrapped my arms and performed no move to get out of the downpour. ‘It's my birthday, don't I get to drive?’
‘I'm faking it's not your birthday, just as you yearned.’
‘If it's not my birthday, then I don't have to proceed to your home later…’
‘All right,’ He closed the passenger door and shuffled past me to open the driver's side. ‘Happy birthday.’
‘Sh-h,’ I shushed him halfheartedly. I climbed through the opened door, begging he'd exercised the other suggestion.
Marcel played with the radio while I drove, shaking his head in dissatisfaction.
‘Your radio has awful treatments.’
I scowled; I didn't like it when he picked on my truck. The truck was transcendent and it had nature.
‘You want a pleasant stereo? Drive your vehicle.’ I was so annoyed about Olivia's plans, on top of my already discouraged feeling, that the words came out sharper than I'd anticipated them.
I was barely ever bad-tempered with Marcel, and my tone made him press his lips together to keep from smiling.
When I parked in front of Mr. Anderson’s house, he stretched over to take my face in his hands.
He handled me very thoroughly, touching just the tips of his fingers softly against my temples, my cheekbones, my jawline. Like I was exceptionally breakable. "
― , Nevaeh Hard to Let Go
97
" You must never, never, never think of anything like that again!’ I spoke. ‘No matter what might ever happen to me, you are not allowed to hurt yourself!’
‘I'll never put you in danger again, so it's a moot point.’
‘Put me in danger! I thought we'd established that all the bad luck is my fault?’ I was getting angrier. ‘How dare you even think like that?’ The idea of Marcel ceasing to exist, even if I were dead, was impossibly painful.
‘What would you do, if the situation were reversed?’ He asked.
‘That's not the same thing.’
He didn't seem to understand the difference. He chuckled.
‘What if something did happen to you?’ I blanched at the thought. ‘Would you want me to go off myself?’
A trace of pain touched his perfect features.
‘I guess I see your point… a little,’ he admitted. ‘But what would I do without you?’
‘Whatever you were doing before I came along and complicated your existence.’
He sighed. ‘You make that sound so easy.’
‘It should be. I'm not that interesting.’
He was about to argue, but then he let it go. ‘Moot point,’ he reminded me. Abruptly, he pulled himself up into a more formal posture, shifting me to the side so that we were no longer touching.
‘Mr. Anderson?’ I guessed. "
― , Nevaeh Hard to Let Go
98
" Part: 1 July
This one more of how where I remember these days.
Photos online, and cam videos all that are my memories- of me to others.
Part: 2 August
Compare… them then and now- naked slut girl or 1940s modesty.
I remember having the old photo album spread out on the bedroom floor.
Oh! Wow! Look at this one… do you like how she was remembered better than me?
(Photo)
Part: 3
It's- September
More of the same- I have become a cam-whore!!! Nothing more…
Part: 4
OCTOBER
…And yah- a, ah- pics that would make you blush, and hard, you boys would love to see me, now, wouldn’t you?
Part: 5
NOVEMBER
Making cummie videos is my life.
Part: 6
DECEMBER
Coming 7 hours out of the day is taking time away from other things.
Part: 7
WAKING UP
…After fraping till- I passed out all hot gross and sweaty, I did not remember falling asleep- with mom and dad- sis and the world seeing me as my door to my trashed bedroom- all jammed open- and’s- and’s- AND’S- did not care at this point. (SAY IT WITH exhausted SLURRING.)
JANUARY yet how- ga-gives- a ________.
Ef…
E- un- mm- ah- in-n…
Whatever…
I am making 50 G’s in a night… so that makes it okay.
(A photo of me lying in bed with all this money!)
Part: 8
TIME PASSES
Craziness… look at my life here… all board…
‘I am home,’ I mumbled, confused- not even more.
‘What did I do?’ I felt my face wrinkle. It was so unfair.
My behavior… here is wow…
After that first week… of doing this…
How do I look… which neither of us ever mentioned what we do?
I hadn't missed a day of school or work.
My grades were perfect.
Yet this show is all going to shit- no?
This is what I did here… showing everything that makes me a girl!
Now I am passing down- to her- yah me- is it wrong? I must live with it.
#- A cam video and all these photos of her online now are worth 1,000 words! #-0-okay then what does this one says then?
My little sis- and she is frapping harder than I do- in this- damn, she is my Minnie me! She started younger than me even- yet that is all girls, her age.
Here is one with her dressed wow seem weird to see her with something on anymore-
(Swipe- and the phone in your hand would make a click sound…)
Oh, this one-
She loves these beautiful white lace kid’s girls’ shorts- so girlie- girly- from Wal-Mart, yet she was banned from wearing them in school without anything under them, yet I look around and all other girls do it.
Yet, on Facebook- and Instagram 1, you get one persona and on Google images a whole other- just like Snapchat you have her as your girlfriend for the night yet have- yet she is your striptease only- and the other Instagram- that grammar should never- ever see- yet this is how to get popular- and stay popular.
Besides then there is the community of internet nudists- on MFC. And the profile- she now has too, a legacy to be remembered by, no? Yet, when you have no education to speak of and working for some d*ck head is just out of the question, over they think you’re not worthy of their time- were you're not making anything, and at this point in Pa she too young to work, yet is old enough to have unprotected sex… Um- and then I wonder- yet she needs the money- for school coming up because your mommy and daddy don’t have it, and all for fun, boys, and a girl's night of fun- and partying- and being crazy. Money is everything… and why girls do what they must do… "
― , Nevaeh Hard to Let Go
99
" Bottomless
I took a deep breath. Olivia would be back. I suddenly felt so much better.
I had plenty to do to keep myself busy while I waited. A shower was first on the agenda. I sniffed my shoulders as I undressed, but I couldn't smell anything but the brine and seaweed scent of the ocean. I wondered what Olivia had meant about me smelling bad.
When I was cleaned up, I went back to the kitchen. I couldn't see any signs that Mr. Anderson’s child was eaten recently, and he would be hungry when he got back. I hummed tunelessly to myself as I moved around the kitchen.
While Thursday's casserole rotated in the microwave, I made up the couch with sheets and an old pillow. Olivia wouldn't need it, but Mr. Anderson would need to see it. I was careful not to watch the clock. There was no reason to start myself panicking; Olivia had promised.
I hurried through my dinner, not tasting it-just feeling the ache as it slid down my raw throat. Mostly I was thirsty; I must have drunk a half-gallon of water by the time I was finished. All the salt in my system had dehydrated me.
I went to go try to watch TV while I waited.
Olivia was already there, sitting on her improvised bed. Her eyes were liquid butterscotch. She smiled and patted the pillow. ‘Thanks.’
‘You're early,’ I said, elated.
I sat down next to her and leaned my head on her shoulder. She put her cold arms around me and sighed.
‘Bell. What are we going to do with you?’
‘I don't know,’ I admitted. ‘I have been trying my hardest.’
‘I believe you.’ It was silent.
‘Does-does he…’ I took a deep breath. It was harder to say his name out loud, even though I was able to think about it now. ‘Does Marcel know you're here?’ I couldn't help asking. It was my pain. I'd deal with it when she was gone, I promised myself, and felt sick at the thought.
‘No…’
There was only one way that could be true. ‘He's not with Chiaz and
Esme?’
‘He checks in every few months.’
‘Oh.’ He must still be out enjoying his distractions. I focused my curiosity on a safer topic. ‘You said you flew here… Where did you come from?’
‘I was in Denali. Visiting Tanya's family.’
‘Is he here? Did he come with you?’
She shook her head. ‘He didn't approve of my interfering. We promised…’ she trailed off, and then her tone changed. ‘And you think Mr. Anderson won't mind my being here?’ she asked, sounding worried. "
― , Nevaeh Hard to Let Go
100
" She seems dazed like she hasn't grasped it yet. Sam's staying with her…’ The volume of his voice faded in and out. ‘Those poor kids. Leah's just a year older than you, and Seth is only fourteen…’ He shook his head.
He kept his arms tight around me as he started toward the door again.
‘Um, Dad?’ I figured I'd better warn him. ‘You'll never guess who's here.’
He looked at me blankly. His head swiveled around, and he spied the Mercedes across the street, the porch light reflecting off the glossy black paint.
Before he could react, Olivia was in the doorway.
‘Hi, Mr. Anderson,’ she said in a subdued voice. ‘I'm sorry I came at such an inconvenient time.’
‘Olivia?’ Peered at the slight figure in front of him as if he doubted what his eyes were telling him. ‘Olivia is that you?’
‘It's me,’ she confirmed. ‘I was in the neighborhood.’
‘Is Chiaz…?’
‘No, I'm alone.’
Both Olivia and I knew he wasn't asking about Chiaz. His arm tightened around my shoulder.
‘She can stay here, can't she?’ I pleaded. ‘I already asked her.’
‘Of course,’ Mr. Anderson said mechanically. ‘We'd love to have you, Olivia.’
‘Thank you, Mr. Anderson. I know it's horrid timing.’
‘No, it's fine. I'm going to be busy doing what I can for Harry's family; it will be nice for Karly to have some company.’
‘There's dinner for you on the table, Dad,’ I told him.
‘Thanks, Bell.’ He gave me one more squeeze before he shuffled toward the kitchen.
Olivia went back to the couch, and I followed her. This time, she was the one to pull me against her shoulder.
‘You look tired.’
‘Yeah,’ I agreed and shrugged. ‘Near-death experiences do that to me…
So, what does Chiaz think of you being here? "
― , Nevaeh Hard to Let Go
