Fiend

This was it. I stepped foot through the jagged gate that seemed to protect the world from the criminals behind it. The path to the prison doors was long and the stares from the inmates burned into my skin. A few whistles here, a few curse words shouted at me and Liam there. I felt uneasy being here but I had one goal. It was to see him.

As the guard left us at the visitors section, he called for Jason to come out. A month had passed since Jason was imprisoned. Liam and I couldn’t even recognize him at first. He had bags under his eyes and his once invisible facial hair turned into a five o’clock shadow. His hair was longer and beginning to get in his eyes.

I watched his face from a distance. Once he got closer and noticed that it was us, his expression did a complete 180. It was nice to see him happy for once.

“I’m so glad you guys took time out of your busy schedules to come and see me.” Jason smirked. His voice was like static through the receiver.

Liam took grasp of the phone on our side first, “How was your first month here?”

“Okay. Had rehab twice a week. Still want to never go back but you know, that’s kind of out of the question.” Jason shrugged. His eyes pierced my skin. I felt a chill run up my spine from it.

As the two of them chatted about bail and other events that happened while Jason was behind bars, I began to reminisce on the past two weeks.

I started work at Chi Chi’s again and that was going well for me then. I made enough money weekly as to where I could buy myself some new clothes. When Liam took me back to my house one day when I knew my father was on a business trip, I tried to retrieve my old clothes. I was poor, living in a friend's house and wore the same outfit for two weeks. I was dirty, tired, and emotionally drained. I walked up to the front door and used my keys. After several attempts I realized that my scum of a father, being as spiteful as he was, changed the locks to the house.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw where my clothes were. There was a pile of ashes in a box out front of the house. On top of the pile was a paper folded up. I opened it and read it.

Here's what I think of you. Don't bother opening the door, I changed the locks. You have nothing, you are nothing. Have a nice life.

For some reason, I began to cry. The words didn't hurt me. But the pain, the pain that I had endured the past years of my life began to rush back into my head. I needed to find solace. Somewhere, anywhere. My father had killed me from the inside out.

I hated being vulnerable and seen in that state of loneliness. I sat on the grass that needed to be mowed on my former home's lawn. Liam immediately noticed that something was wrong and tried to comfort me by sitting by my side. He read the letter from my father and screamed at the top of his lungs.

Watching him do that made me feel something inside. Something I hadn't felt in so long. His feelings were passionate. He was truly mad. I looked at him as I saw the muscles of his mouth stretch, his vocal chords give way to a powerful voice, his eyes shut tightly as if trying to see the blackest of nights. Soon, his whole body reacted to the note.

He stood up and threw the note across the lawn. His hands were formed into tight fists, clenched against his sides. His eyes stared down into mine as I didn't know how to respond to him. I was frozen, in awe. Someone truly cared about me?

I guess you could say I was in awe with him. He reacted in such a way that I wish I could have done. He was the image of what I wished I could have been. I wanted to be able to stand my ground, to fight back against the injustice that I was forced to withstand everyday. I didn't want to be weak anymore. I wanted to fight my demons.

In that moment, I stood beside him. I kept my gaze on his. His breathing was jagged as he held eye contact and the next thing I know he pulled me into a silent hug. It was an embrace that showed me both pity and understanding. I didn't know what to do with my hands so I kept them at my sides, as he continued to hold me tightly against his chest. The air was caught in my lungs. I felt this sensation inside of me that was powerful and hypnotic. It was the buzz one would get after they drank a few beers, the feeling of your stomach dropping once the cart passed the tall hill of the roller coaster, and the adrenaline rush from seeing your life flash before your eyes.

This was it. This was the exact emotions I felt six years ago. I was scared and intrigued yet excited and motivated. This was what I had been waiting to feel for so long.

Afterwards, Liam and I drove back to his house. There was a silent agreement between us and that's all there was for those next two week, absolute silence. Liam and I wouldn't talk. But I wanted so badly to hear his voice. I yearned for him to say even a simple "hello" to me.

The car ride to visit Jason was worse. The closer the proximity to the county jail, the more I wanted to grab him by his shoulder blades and shake him. "I just want comfort, some reassurance!" Why couldn't we speak to each other? Why was silence bestowed upon us? I only yearned for the voice of a friend, just so they could tell me everything was okay.

But as I sat and watched Liam talk to Jason, I knew what was happening. Liam had a smile planted on his face. His teeth were perfect and every time his lips parted, a part of my insides buzzed with happiness. His messy black hair was glistening perfectly in the sunlight. His biceps poked through the sleeves of his shirt, like a teasing invitation for a girl to hold onto them for dear life.

Before I knew it, he was looking over at me. His brown eyes gave me a look of concern. I realized it then. I wanted this forever and it was finally right in front of me.

Liam was my solace, my calm before the storm. I touched his bicep, wrapped my arms around it. It was as if I was drowning in the ocean and Liam was my saving grace.

I had found my home.