Holding On
Years Later
I changed my name to Melinda Anderson and moved out of Gotham after finding out people were looking for me…During my time after he left; I started working and going to school. I graduated at 19 and started college right after. I worked 2 fulltime jobs to get the money for college. I barley ate; I never really had much of an apatite so I was basically a twig, but I had curves. Many of the guys from High School and College always say they want to be my boyfriend and bang me. They’re stupid, and I always refuse because I don’t have time, I don’t want to be a rag doll ever again, and they could never be him.
I always think about him and sometimes dream of his beautiful face, before and after the incident. I always thought he was the most beautiful man in the world even with the ugly scars. He’d cover his face up around me; he didn’t want me to look at him. He even screamed at me if when I tried to kiss him…It just pulled his stitches and made the pain worsen whenever he did, so I stopped, and left him alone…Then one day he left without any notice…Just a stupid Joker playing card…I keep it on my nightstand and stare at it for a good 15 minutes before going to sleep. It’s the only thing I have of him, no picture, no drawings I drew of him and me—nothing. He took them all.
I only have this card and my memories…It’s what keeps me Holding On… If I lost this; I’d fall.
I rode my bike toward Danny’s pub in NYC in my uniform and locked my bike up and walked in. Many of my costumers howled like wolfs as I walked in and went over towards the bar. Stacy was just done making a woman a strawberry daiquiri. She waves then walks to the back with me and checks out as I check in.
“How’s it going?” asks Stacy in her southern accent, “Did ya sleep well?”
Stacy is an old bartender; she was in her late 40’s and was a bartender since she was my age. 24. Well, I think younger than I? She trained me when I was legal to handle drinks, she always told me to check peoples I.D. and make sure they take it out of their wallet. One time I had a guy having a hissy fit about giving me his I.D. and threatened to kill me, I had one of the big guy’s that worked here throw him out…It was scary but I got used to it when many drunks came in and gave me a hard time, they’re all the same and they don’t do anything.
Also I had one guy show me his I.D. that was in his wallet, and I made him take it out; all it was, was a piece of paper that he photoshoped. And afterwards the guy threatened to kill me…I just brushed it off.
“I had better” I shrugged and walked back to the bar and started making the costumers drinks.
Stacy sat down at one of the stools and asks for a miller light, I popped the bottle cap open and handed it to her before she could say Miller Light.
“Ok Miss Speedy!” she mocks sipping on her beer.
I laughed as I moved up and down the bar, making so many recipe drinks that I memorized from a book Stacy gave me. Out of the 3 girls Stacy had to train, I was the favorite because the 2 other girls had no idea what they’re doing. And although I know the recipes; I don’t drink.
A few hours of working behind the bar, happy hour started and I was very busy. Stacy was still here hanging out with friends and dancing, having a good time.
“Hey Melinda.” Says Old Man John, sitting down on the stool.
“Hey John! The usual?” I asked smiling,
“Yes ma’am.” He nods,
Old Man John is a 65-year-old veteran that is diagnose with lung cancer. Though he doesn’t have more that 10 years left, he’s one of the awesome old people ever!
I handed him his usual bud light and relaxed a bit when everyone had a drink, “So how’s Joann?” I asked,
“Ugh! She’s driving me bonkers! I’m about ready to croak and I know she’s going to come after me!” he jokes, he loves his wife dearly.
“She’s not that bad.”
“You don’t know her like I do!” he stares at me wide eyed, as we both laughed.
A guy walked in and sat at the bar waiting to order. I walked up to him asked what he wanted.
“A beer.” He says and a heavy groggily voice.
“You know what kind?” I asked,
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Alrighty then.” I huffed adjusting my arms and grabbing the nearest beer and giving it to him.
I heard people talking about something from Gotham, my heart jumped but I tried to ignore what they were saying but, of course, I couldn’t help but eavesdrop.
“The Joker escaped Arkham, again. I don’t know how he does it, but I’m glad me and my family moved.” Says a man with a baseball cap.
“Who?” asks the guy he was with.
“A crazy psycho clown!”
A clown? Really?
I thought to myself.
Every month or so; I hear someone on vacation gossiping about Gotham and all the chaos that’s been happening. It’s my past. I’ve been hurt numerous times and in many ways, I’m never going back.
Goodbye Anna.
...
I got home that night, to find someone in my apartment watching Friday the 13th on my TV in the dark. I turned the light on to see my best friend, Ally, sitting there eating popcorn. And when I turned on the light she screamed making all the popcorn get all over the couch and floor.
“Jesus, Mel! You scared the shit outta me!” she holds her chest as she tried to catch her breath.
“Really now?” I raised an eyebrow,
“Uh, yeah! I thought you were a burglar!”
“I live here, Al.” I said rolling my eyes and walking over to the couch and cleaned up the kernel.
“Woops.” She gets up and brushes herself.
I shook my head and put threw the popcorn away. I went in my room and changed to my pj’s and walked back into my small living room to find Ally with a large grin on her face.
I sat next to her and raise my eyebrow once again.
“What?” I ordered.
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“My cousin! Bruce, invited me to come visit him in Gotham!” she jumps in her seat,
“Oh cool, have fun!” I waved then turned to the TV to put it on the news.
“I want you to come with me,” she says,
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh c’mon, Mel! I asked Bruce already and he said it was okay.”
“I’m too busy to go.”
“You need to live a little.” She crosses her arms. “Besides, Bruce is very hot!” she winks,
“That’s lovely, but I’m still not interested.”
“Please!” she screeches,
“Stop that! Your acting like a 3 year old!” I yelled covering my ears.
“Why don’t you want to go? Are you hiding something? If you are, I will find out.”
I sighed, I didn’t want to tell her about my past. Hell, I didn’t even want to think about it. I knew she wouldn’t back down on this—she always wins.
“If I go, you’re never ever aloud to beg me to do something I want to do again!”
She squeals and gives me a large hug before going on and on about how much fun it was going to be. She was such a blonde.
When it was getting closer to 11, she went home. I locked up all the doors and windows and went to my bedroom. There, I sat down on my bed and sighed. I looked over at the playing card he left behind and picked it up. It was worn out card of a little blonde haired boy in a red, yellow, and green jester outfit, dancing. I notice every time I look at it that it looks like him. I smiled and put it down before I started feeling sad again, then laid down and went to sleep.
I always think about him and sometimes dream of his beautiful face, before and after the incident. I always thought he was the most beautiful man in the world even with the ugly scars. He’d cover his face up around me; he didn’t want me to look at him. He even screamed at me if when I tried to kiss him…It just pulled his stitches and made the pain worsen whenever he did, so I stopped, and left him alone…Then one day he left without any notice…Just a stupid Joker playing card…I keep it on my nightstand and stare at it for a good 15 minutes before going to sleep. It’s the only thing I have of him, no picture, no drawings I drew of him and me—nothing. He took them all.
I only have this card and my memories…It’s what keeps me Holding On… If I lost this; I’d fall.
I rode my bike toward Danny’s pub in NYC in my uniform and locked my bike up and walked in. Many of my costumers howled like wolfs as I walked in and went over towards the bar. Stacy was just done making a woman a strawberry daiquiri. She waves then walks to the back with me and checks out as I check in.
“How’s it going?” asks Stacy in her southern accent, “Did ya sleep well?”
Stacy is an old bartender; she was in her late 40’s and was a bartender since she was my age. 24. Well, I think younger than I? She trained me when I was legal to handle drinks, she always told me to check peoples I.D. and make sure they take it out of their wallet. One time I had a guy having a hissy fit about giving me his I.D. and threatened to kill me, I had one of the big guy’s that worked here throw him out…It was scary but I got used to it when many drunks came in and gave me a hard time, they’re all the same and they don’t do anything.
Also I had one guy show me his I.D. that was in his wallet, and I made him take it out; all it was, was a piece of paper that he photoshoped. And afterwards the guy threatened to kill me…I just brushed it off.
“I had better” I shrugged and walked back to the bar and started making the costumers drinks.
Stacy sat down at one of the stools and asks for a miller light, I popped the bottle cap open and handed it to her before she could say Miller Light.
“Ok Miss Speedy!” she mocks sipping on her beer.
I laughed as I moved up and down the bar, making so many recipe drinks that I memorized from a book Stacy gave me. Out of the 3 girls Stacy had to train, I was the favorite because the 2 other girls had no idea what they’re doing. And although I know the recipes; I don’t drink.
A few hours of working behind the bar, happy hour started and I was very busy. Stacy was still here hanging out with friends and dancing, having a good time.
“Hey Melinda.” Says Old Man John, sitting down on the stool.
“Hey John! The usual?” I asked smiling,
“Yes ma’am.” He nods,
Old Man John is a 65-year-old veteran that is diagnose with lung cancer. Though he doesn’t have more that 10 years left, he’s one of the awesome old people ever!
I handed him his usual bud light and relaxed a bit when everyone had a drink, “So how’s Joann?” I asked,
“Ugh! She’s driving me bonkers! I’m about ready to croak and I know she’s going to come after me!” he jokes, he loves his wife dearly.
“She’s not that bad.”
“You don’t know her like I do!” he stares at me wide eyed, as we both laughed.
A guy walked in and sat at the bar waiting to order. I walked up to him asked what he wanted.
“A beer.” He says and a heavy groggily voice.
“You know what kind?” I asked,
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Alrighty then.” I huffed adjusting my arms and grabbing the nearest beer and giving it to him.
I heard people talking about something from Gotham, my heart jumped but I tried to ignore what they were saying but, of course, I couldn’t help but eavesdrop.
“The Joker escaped Arkham, again. I don’t know how he does it, but I’m glad me and my family moved.” Says a man with a baseball cap.
“Who?” asks the guy he was with.
“A crazy psycho clown!”
A clown? Really?
I thought to myself.
Every month or so; I hear someone on vacation gossiping about Gotham and all the chaos that’s been happening. It’s my past. I’ve been hurt numerous times and in many ways, I’m never going back.
Goodbye Anna.
...
I got home that night, to find someone in my apartment watching Friday the 13th on my TV in the dark. I turned the light on to see my best friend, Ally, sitting there eating popcorn. And when I turned on the light she screamed making all the popcorn get all over the couch and floor.
“Jesus, Mel! You scared the shit outta me!” she holds her chest as she tried to catch her breath.
“Really now?” I raised an eyebrow,
“Uh, yeah! I thought you were a burglar!”
“I live here, Al.” I said rolling my eyes and walking over to the couch and cleaned up the kernel.
“Woops.” She gets up and brushes herself.
I shook my head and put threw the popcorn away. I went in my room and changed to my pj’s and walked back into my small living room to find Ally with a large grin on her face.
I sat next to her and raise my eyebrow once again.
“What?” I ordered.
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“My cousin! Bruce, invited me to come visit him in Gotham!” she jumps in her seat,
“Oh cool, have fun!” I waved then turned to the TV to put it on the news.
“I want you to come with me,” she says,
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh c’mon, Mel! I asked Bruce already and he said it was okay.”
“I’m too busy to go.”
“You need to live a little.” She crosses her arms. “Besides, Bruce is very hot!” she winks,
“That’s lovely, but I’m still not interested.”
“Please!” she screeches,
“Stop that! Your acting like a 3 year old!” I yelled covering my ears.
“Why don’t you want to go? Are you hiding something? If you are, I will find out.”
I sighed, I didn’t want to tell her about my past. Hell, I didn’t even want to think about it. I knew she wouldn’t back down on this—she always wins.
“If I go, you’re never ever aloud to beg me to do something I want to do again!”
She squeals and gives me a large hug before going on and on about how much fun it was going to be. She was such a blonde.
When it was getting closer to 11, she went home. I locked up all the doors and windows and went to my bedroom. There, I sat down on my bed and sighed. I looked over at the playing card he left behind and picked it up. It was worn out card of a little blonde haired boy in a red, yellow, and green jester outfit, dancing. I notice every time I look at it that it looks like him. I smiled and put it down before I started feeling sad again, then laid down and went to sleep.
