The boundless energy thing that I'd kept going for years wasn't quite working anymore, it felt like life was slowly catching up despite the fact that I was still running, helping, doing, fixing, building at what seemed like maximum capacity. Maybe I was just feeling a bit down because I hadn't done anything really new and creative in a while. I had reached a point where there just weren't enough hours of the day to spend on the things I wanted to, in addition to the ones I needed to; there were just too many things that had to be handled. And perhaps the day had finally come where there was just no more space on my bow for any new strings.
I suppose talking to William about my life might have helped create this new "the walls are closing in" feeling, or perhaps it was the frustration of not being allowed to finish, to not be able to tell someone about the rest of my life. It felt like I needed to air my memories and thoughts, like some sort of spoken memoir thing. Dear William had asked one of the clinic's assistants to call me and cancel my appointments a couple of days after our last meeting. I wasn't surprised, but I had to admit that I was disappointed, he had after all promised.
William's girls and the way they had been treated troubled me more than I thought it ever would. They seemed to have become important cogs in my somewhat self-centered engine of happiness. After what he'd told me, I just knew I had to do something about the school and Ms Roberts, to stop the angry and worried thought processes that had been started inside of me, because they were quite frankly consuming to much processing capacity.
I wondered if I should have somehow informed William about my investigations concerning Ms Roberts, and what I was planning to do about the problem, but I shook that thought off, what was left of my pride told me not to bother trying to get him to talk to me, and my wish not to hurt him told me to back off completely.
William... I missed him already. He hadn't been online in more than two weeks, and I hadn't seen him in person since he told me to go away almost a week ago. The pain of separation was mixed with feelings of being rejected, even if that sounded a bit too much like a line from a silly romantic story. I really didn't like the weakness and vulnerability I felt when I thought about never seeing him again. And for god's sake, there really wasn't anything particularly special about him.
No, there really wasn't anything special about him at all... except the fact that I loved him. Nothing special except the fact that he was the only exception to more than one of my life's many self-generated rules. I loved him, despite the fact that he would never be able to accept and love me; there were just too many things that stood between us. Really righteous people never mixed well with unrepentant sinners, and he was as good as a person could possibly be, and yeah me, I was just me.
I was shaken and stirred, like a half-assed cocktail concoction, something that tasted like shit but had your panties off in about half-an-hour; if you ever wore panties, that is. The way I was feeling was getting a bit too serious, I couldn't quite laugh it off with a bad joke anymore. And added to all those strange and new feelings was an almost all-consuming tiredness, probably because I had started getting memory flashes, and the bad dreams had begun to stalk me through the nights again.
After yet another night tossing and turning, not in a good way, my phone woke me up and I answered with a grumpy "What?"
"Hey, don't bite my head off!" a laughing voice answered.
"Sean," I answered whilst stretching "you know I'd never do anything to any of your body parts. Thick-headed police officers don't do it for fragile princesses with tiny mouths, you know..."
"I'm not even going to ask what head you're really talking about..." Sean answered with an exasperated laughter.
"Mmmm... better not..." I answered "so, what's up? And just so you know, that's a subject change..."
"Yeah... moving on..." Sean answered, still laughing before quickly turning serious "I think we might have a problem at the gym, but I need your help to figure it out. We've got a few new volunteers to help with the self-defense classes, because of more and more women wanting our help. But there are too many drop-outs... and my gut feeling is telling me that there's something wrong."
"Right," I answered "any beginner's class I can try my best to fit into?"
"Way ahead of you," Sean answered "there's a big info and intro class today, in two hours. I'll be there, and Anthony and Mike. And I've asked our three new volunteers to be there too."
"Okay," I answered "I'll be there. Look for the shy girl in the corner."
"Yep, I've seen you do it before, remember?" Sean grumbled "It really creeps me out, makes me wonder who you really are."
"I'm Alpha and Omega baby; as in - I'm only in it for the Ahhhhhhs and Ohhhhhhs." I answered with a short laugh.
"You're a sick person, scary Mary, you truly are." Sean answered before hanging up.
"In more ways than you'll ever know." I whispered in answer to the silent phone.
* * * * *
Free of charge self-defense classes for women had been a wish, or more like a dream, that I'd had for years, but it wasn't until I had met Mary four years ago that I managed to turn the dream into reality. She had helped me find a gym that supported the idea and helped sponsor the classes, and she'd somehow found the first group of women.
I had found volunteers in the police force, people I knew I could trust, men and women with personal stories that were similar to mine. There was a surprising amount of police officers who had known violence and abuse from a young age. Or perhaps it wasn't all that strange? We all had good reasons for standing up for "the little guy", we all knew that every little act of human kindness mattered.
The classes had become almost too popular these last few months, and I had been forced to look for more help outside my circle of trusted friends. I hoped I wouldn't have to regret doing so. I hoped Mary wouldn't find any problems with any of the three young men - all police officers - who seemed to have their hearts in the right place. Sometimes people just weren't what they seemed to be, but based on what I knew about Mary, she wouldn't let herself be fooled by innocent smiles and police academy t-shirts.
I looked at the rather large group of women who had gathered for information about our classes and a quick introduction with some simple ways to protect yourself against an attacker. I scanned all of the women and saw the angry, the sad and the frightened. But I couldn't see Mary anywhere? "Look for the shy girl in the corner" she had said. In one of the corners there were two angry-looking women and in the other corner was a girl, years younger than Mary, her hair a dark brown color, done up in braids, her eyes turned down towards the floor, with glasses that kept sliding down her nose. She wore a pink long-sleeved t-shirt and black jazz pants that licked her body, showing off curves that would have normally had me gasping for breath, but that now only made me worry for her, because her shy, insecure movements, with nervous hands pulling at the arms of her t-shirt, teeth biting her lower lip and glances thrown at the women around her made me want to place myself in front of her and protect her against every single person in that room.