She stands at the edge of the cliff looking down, and her dark, blue eyes sparkle as she looks over the ocean. She never could forget this one spot, could never push it out of her mind. She dreamt of it too often, and now, as if by magic, she was standing there looking over the ocean lit up by the light of the full moon. This kind of Friday night doesn't come around often. The wind rustles her raven black hair, and an evil smile forms on her beautiful face. She knew what to do. Now the question was, how was she going to do it? She looks up at the sky. It's clear, not a cloud in sight with every single star visible. Her dark hair made her skin even more pale, and her full lips even more red. Anya sat down carefully so as not to fall over, and her eyes never left the ocean. The night was warm for early April, but for her, it was always cold. She couldn't remember the last time she felt warm...or loved. Lost deep in thought, she hadn't realized that most of the night had slipped away. The sun would be up soon, and she had to get back. She didn't want anyone to notice that she was gone.
She slept until noon and still didn't want to move. The sun was shiny, high, and bright - all the things she wasn't feeling. Anya remembered being on the cliff, but she didn't remember how or when she got home. Everything was just blank after that. She sat up, lit up a Marlboro menthol, and turned on her radio. She went over to her closet and chose a black leather tank top and black leather pants. She was twenty-one years old, and everyone who knew her or saw her was scared, turned on, or both. They had many reasons to be scared. The last guy who hit on her would never be hitting on another innocent girl for the rest of his life. How could he if he has no tongue? He thought he could rape her and kill her - she read his thoughts. Another drunk asshole's mistake. Walking into the bathroom, she turns on the water and gets into the shower. The water runs in red streams from her dripping hair and onto her body. She stifles a scream knowing it won't help her situation because she'd just be drawing attention to it. This wasn't the first time she woke up not remembering a thing and then had to wash blood out of her hair. She also knew this wasn't going to be the last. She wished she could remember what happened the night before, but her wishes never come true. She got out of the shower knowing that what she did last night would come to her on its own - as it usually did.
She pulls on her clothes and knows she looks incredible. Her clothes show off every curve in her body, and she knows she has a great one. She lights another cigarette and heads downstairs where her mom and "the king" are. She always hated her stepfather. Her parents knew how special their daughter was and her stepfather didn't even care. If he knew at all, at least then he would respect her.....maybe he would stop hitting on her. If he didn't respect her, fine. She could live with that, but he didn't respect her mother either, and that made her angry.
"Hey, Anya. Give me the rest of that cigarette."
"Go buy your own pack, Josh."
She walks by and he slaps her ass. She gets angry, but lets it go, as she always does. She knew if she let her anger out, she'd kill him, and she didn't want her mother to see that.
"Anya, would you like something to eat?"
She walks over to her mother and hugs her.
"No, thanks Mom. I'm going out."
"But you just woke up!"
She knew she wanted her to stay, but she needed to calm down. Josh pissed her off to no limit.
"I know, Mom, but I..." She couldn't finish, didn't want to. Instead, she sat down at the table.
An hour later, she was out driving aimlessly in her cherry red mustang. She loved her car. There was nothing else in her life to love. Men only wanted to fuck her, and she was sick of everyone and everything. For some reason, her mind drifted back to Josh. She will never forgive him for what he tried to do to her three years ago.
She got home late that night and was in bed for about five minutes when her door opened. Her stepfather was in his boxers, and he was hard. She couldn't help but notice because he didn't even try to hide it. She found the sight disgusting. She recognized the look in his eyes; she'd seen it a dozen times before, but she couldn't scream. He just kept coming closer, and when he touched her, that was it. She grabbed his arm and broke it. Neither one of them said anything to her mother. She never wanted to think about it again.
Her foot went further down on the accelerator as she got more pissed off. She had to be driving for a few hours by now, and she didn't even know where she was heading. After driving for a few more minutes, she passed a sign:
Welcome to New York
. She had driven all the way to New York from Virginia! This was crazy! Had she been thinking about things for that long? How fast had she been driving? She had to get back home. Her mother would begin to worry..... .
The car pulled in by a night club, and from the looks of it, the place was alive! She walked inside without a problem, and as the loud music hit her, it made her feel as if she was alive again. She loved alternative music, and Marilyn Manson's "Sweet Dreams" was what everyone was jumping to. She surveyed the crowd. No one interesting, a few potential friends, many potential victims. As she stood there, few people bothered to notice her, but no one tried to touch her. Her aura gave them all the advice to stay away. The song ended, and the techno music began its reign over the club. She walked over to the bar and ordered a screwdriver. She hated them but wanted something stronger than her usual, Alize. She got her drink and finally noticed the guy sitting next to her. His eyes were the same shade as hers, but his hair was brown and short. She had seen him before, but she couldn't figure out from where. Usually, she had no problem placing people.
"Hey, Anya. Long time no see."
"Hey."
He knew her name; how could he have known her name?! She wished she remembered where she knew him from.
"Don't remember me, do you?" His face was beautiful, so was his smile.
"No, sorry, but I don't. I wish I did, though. I remember your face, but not your name."
"Anya, you always had such a wonderful memory. Don't tell me it's failing you now." He stared into her eyes; neither one could look away.
"I hope it's not..."
"I have something that might spark your memory."
"Oh, really? What is it?" She loved to flirt, and with him, it was almost natural.
"Close your eyes."
She did because for some reason, she trusted him. She could feel him coming closer. She could smell him even though there were so many other people around them. She loved the way he smelled. Slowly, he kissed her. It was a soft but deep kiss, and she could feel it throughout her entire body. Then, it ended as suddenly as it began.
"Mmmm, Jack, why'd you stop?" As soon as she said it, she was shocked. How could she have forgotten him? Was because he left her...without any sign, notice, or anything? He just disappeared one morning...
"I don't know. So, how have you been?"
"Why do you care?" She asked, the bitterness entering her voice.
"Because I've been worried. I know you haven't been yourself. You're starting to slip, love."
