I Can't Help You Fix Yourself But At Least I Can Say I Tried

You can't imagine the stuff that takes over your mind when you know that you're going to die. And it's stupid shit mostly. How much you had left to do that day, or that the EMT's are going to know you hadn't shaved your legs in a while. Or that the entire police department is going to know how dirty your house is. Or, like me, instead of running, you're wondering if they'll really do it.

Threatening someone is one thing. But it's those who have motive to carry it out that are truly dangerous.

My uncle had motive.

Like the idiot I am, I went home. I went home after Danielle and Ehrin advised me not to. I'd went home after a beating from my Uncle's buyer. I'd went home after my gut instinct told me to run.

"Do you really fucking think he, or anybody else for that matter, is going to want to buy from me anymore? After the shit you pulled!"

No.

"I can't fucking believe how dumb you are!"

Dumb pretty much summed it up.

Right now I was on the kitchen floor. The gritty tile beneath my fingers tips as I pulled my hands back towards my body. I was on my stomach, my cheek pressed harshly against the unforgiving floor. I hadn't even seen my uncle coming, and he'd already had me on the floor. From that point on, it was a blur, and I began drifting in and out of consciousness. And right now, I could taste metal, signifying that the liquid in my mouth was blood.

Oh that's right.

I'd bit my tongue when I hit the floor. And right now, the bruise on my hip was screaming in pain as it pressed against the tile through my belt. And my eyes were blurry and sore every time I tried to open them. This really was a situation of blood, sweat and tears.

My uncle was pacing back and forth in front of me with a gun in his right hand, I'd seen that much. He was also wearing coverals and steel toed boots.

A nice added touch.

He couldn't have been home from work for very long.

It was funny the things I did notice. Or maybe it was stupid. Because I wasn't going to be alive to identify him.

"So Myranda," he crouched down beside me and I flexed my hands by my head. I wasn't even strong enough to use them to help me get up. I felt the cold metal press against my temple and more tears escaped my eyes.

This was it. Mom I...

"I want you to know this is the only choice I have," he continued.

"What are you doing!"

The screeching voice could have only came from one person. My mom. I heard quick footsteps and soon a withered hand was brushing against my cheek.

"Get the fuck away from her."

My uncle stumbled backwards before standing up. He laughed. A menacing laugh, one that could not be done justice with words.

"I could get you both right now," he aimed the gun at both of us, "but that would be a waste of bullets. "He dropped his arm, pointing the gun at the floor. He grabbed his bottle of whiskey off the table and strode past us into the living room.

I know my mom was trying to help, but she was only making things worse. If I didn't move. I didn't hurt.

Sometime later Ehrin was helping me up off the ground. I walked beside him to the best of my abilities, but I'm pretty sure that he was dragging me most of the way. Some neighbors were outside watching, most likely trying to decide what to do. If they called the police, my uncle would know. But if they didn't call the police, someone could get seriously hurt.

"I have all of your stuff Myranda," I caught a glimpse with my good eye of Danielle throwing a large duffel bag into the backseat of Ehrin's car.

I wanted to thank her but the words wouldn't come. Instead I groaned in pain and Ehrin helped me into the backseat before closing the door behind me.

"The hospital?" Ehrin asked.

"People ask questions in hospitals Ehrin," Danielle replied softly.

"We'll tell them her boyfriend beat her up. They can't do anything unless she wants to press charges."

I raised my hand in protest but ended up giving up. I could do with some pain killers right now.

"Fine," Danielle muttered before glancing back at me.

The hospital was nightmare. The doctors kept insisting that I was one of the lucky ones.

Luck, had nothing to do with it. If he'd really wanted to kill me, he would have.

And like any battered woman situation, the cops were called. They kept pressing for information from me, but when I woudln't give it to them, they went to Ehrin and Danielle. They didn't say much either.

"We can't help you if you don't want to press charges ma'am, you know that. Let us help you."

"No," I whispered weakly as I sat on the edge of the hospital bed while the doctor placed a butterfly stitch over my cheek bone. "I'm not going to further piss him off."

Defeated, the cops double checked our final statements then they were on their way.

"I'm going to write you a perscription for some pain killers," the doctor picked up his clipboard, "and I want you going somewhere safe." His grey eyes finally locked with my own. His eyes said it all. As an older doctor, I could tell he'd seen more than his fair share of this type of situation.

"Alright," I promised him and took the piece of paper he handed me.

"Do you have anywhere to stay?"

"Yeah," I nodded to the best of my abilites as he helped me to my feet.

"You take care."

I slowly made my way out into the hall where Ehrin and Dani were waiting.

"You can stay at my place," Ehrin offered. Danielle nodded in agreement. I knew she'd let me stay with her if I wanted. But she knew that I wouldn't be able to stand all the men she brought home on a regular basis.

"Thanks."

We left the hospital and stopped for my medication, which I was grateful for. I took two immediately and already they were starting to help.

"Just call me if you need anything," Dani told me when we dropped her off at her house. Though her intentions were genuine, I knew that most of the time she wouldn't even be able to help herself.

"Right?" she waved her cell phone at me clearly waiting for an answer.

My cell.

"Right," I replied. She said goodbye to Ehrin while I reached for my purse. I couldn't wait to get Synyster Fucking Gates on the phone.

***

"So I did good huh?"

Michelle was fishing for compliments. And, like the gentleman I am, gave them to her.

"Yeah it was really good," I smiled. She picked up the dishes and placed them in the sink.

She'd made me supper, even though she wasn't keen on cooking. But I was grateful. This was the first time I hadn't ate fast food in months.

"Do you want more wine?" she asked.

I glanced at my glass. It was empty, because it'd went well with supper.

She laughed softly and put the wine bottle down. "I should of known better," she turned and opened up the fridge, giving me a great view as she grabbed for a bottle of beer that she usually kept stocked for me.

"That's part of what I want," I muttered as I stood up, approaching her from behind. Pressing my crotch against her butt as I wrapped one arm around her waist, and took the beer from her with my other hand.

She stilled in my arms, turning her head to look at me over her shoulder. "What else do you want?" she asked seductively.

I turned her around in my arms and set the beer on the counter before picking her up and carrying her into the living room. Her fingers pressed into the muscles of my back while her lips whispered along my jaw to my ear and down my neck. That was the bonus of knowing someone so well. They knew exactly what got you off.

I sat down on the couch with her on my lap. Her lips continued wandering over every uncovered piece of skin available to her. I groaned within my throat, then growled lightly as my cell alerted me of an incoming call.

"Ignore it," she whimpered before sealing her lips to my own, her warm tongue slipping into my mouth and caressing my own. I gripped her hips roughly as I kissed her back.

A few moments later she was pulling away and sliding down to her knees. Her eyes were glazed over with passion as she began working my belts loose.

My cell went off again.

"Maybe it's an emergency," I muttered. But I couldn't think straight. Her hand had found it's way into my pants.

"Maybe they'll call someone else," she replied with a wink and flexed her hand around me causing me to groan in pleasure.

It went off again. This time I was starting to get irritated.

"My god," she muttered and pulled her hand from my pants. "Answer the fuckin thing."

I didn't recognize the number, but I answerd it anyway.

"Yeah?" I asked grouchily.

"Syn?"

"Yeah," I couldn't quite place the voice.

"I just wanted to thank you for everything you helped me out with," the voice snarled back. "But I realised, the effect wouldn't be the same over the phone."

It was Myranda. An irritated Myranda.

"Where are you?" I asked her.

She gave me the name of a diner on the outskirts of LA. She also gave me a time limit.

"Are you serious?" I stood up and began doing up my pants again, hating the thought that I was going to have to climb behind the wheel with a hard on.

"Yeah," she replied quickly. "I'm not going to waste any more of my time on you."

"That's a little rough don't you think?" I asked. After all, all I'd done was help her.

"You want to see rough?" she spoke quietly. "Be here in half an hour."