Let Me Be The One To Save You

Performing had left me a sweaty, smelly mess and I knew I should clean myself up a bit, but all I wanted was to see Ciara. Her opinion was one of the very few I actually considered valid. I wanted to know what she thought of our performance. Were we good? Did she have any advice?

I pushed my now greasy hair out of my face and spotted Mikey not too far away. He was chatting up some girls in a very awkward manner and I chuckled at the sight.

“Hey Mikes,” I greeted him and nodded hello at the girls, ignoring their shallow comments about ‘how hot’ I was when I performed. “You seen C?”

My lanky brother shook his head, “Nope, not since before we went on. Have you looked outside?”

I slapped my forehead, I hadn’t even thought of checking outside. The bar had become incredibly warm thanks to the surprisingly large number of people who had sought out the dirty bar solely for the live music. Ciara had probably gone outside for some fresh air.

“I’ll go check now. Thanks Mikey.”

The early March air was cool as it kissed my face. I lit up a cigarette to calm my after-show jitters and went in search of my best friend.

I strolled to the end of the street and didn’t catch a glimpse of her anywhere. Assuming I must have missed her inside, I went to check the bar once more. As I walked by, a low whimper sounded from the dark side-alley. My heart clenched in fear and I dropped my cigarette onto the damp ground. It sizzled and went out, but I gave it no thought as I sprinted down into the seedy alley. My heart was telling me who it was, whilst my brain was arguing, trying to make me think logically. It was her though, my heart was right.

She lay in the fetal position, curled up and rocking back and forth as she sobbed, her shoulders quivering. Something terrible had happened to her tonight. Something that had broken the already terribly fragile girl.

“Ciara, sugar, you okay?” I crouched down beside her and pushed her, now fading, purple hair from off her tear streaked face.

“Gee Gee?” She whispered, looking up at me. Her grey eyes were clouded with pain, reminding me of the sky on a stormy day. She was hurting.

I smiled softly and nodded, “Yeah, it’s Gee.”

She sat up slowly, as if in pain, and threw her arms around my neck, sobbing her heart out and mumbling something incoherent. Knowing that she needed comfort, I sat down on the ground and pulled her onto my lap, cradling her like a baby.

“What happened Ciara?”

“The guy. James. So nice. So handsome. He wasn’t nice though,” She rambled into my shoulder.

She was in shock, making it difficult to get an answer from her. I already thought the worst but hoped she would tell me I was wrong. I kissed her forehead and she flinched away from my touch, odd.

“What happened?”

“He hurt me.”

Those three words made anger boil in my veins. No one was allowed hurt my best friend. I’d kill this James. Make him regret ever messing with Ciara.

“What did he do C?” I asked her gently, running my hands through her slightly damp hair.

“He hurt me,” She mumbled and began playing with the hem of my black t-shirt absentmindedly. She was in a world of her own, unwilling to face reality.

“I know that Sugar,” I sighed, trying to control my impatience. I just wanted to find out what happened so I could kill this James guy. “But what did he do?”

“Hurt me. Against wall. Blood. Pain. Ripped clothes. So, so dirty. . .” She began sobbing again and realisation hit me.

“This is probably hard to answer Ciara,” I spoke kindly as I could so as to ensure I didn’t scare her. “But, did this James guy. . . Did he rape you?”

As if that four letter word snapped her out of her daze, she was suddenly aware of her surroundings and spoke coherently.

“Yes Gee. He raped me and then threw a twenty at me. All I am is a cheap whore!” She spat out the final word and I could tell she was holding back more tears. “Mom was right. I’ll never amount to anything more than being a dirty, little whore!” She seemed to speak more to herself than to me but I replied anyway.

“Ciara, you are the most beautiful, talented girl I have ever had the pleasure to meet.”

She shook her head violently, “I’m ugly and worthless - no wonder I got raped. I fucking deserved it!”

She looked so broken. Her grey eyes were full of self-loathing and she was gnawing on her bottom lip nervously. It killed me to see this wonderful girl so hurt and destroyed. She wasn’t ugly at all and I hated that her own mother had made her believe that she was - it was completely wrong.

“You’re not ugly Sugar, it’s the world that’s ugly,” I told her, hoping that she’d listen to me. “You’re so, so beautiful - especially to me.”

Her eyes moved to me mine and I could see faint hope in the stormy grey. It was very faint and hidden by pain, but it was there.

“Do you really think that?” Her voice was so low I could scarcely hear her. It was as if she questioned it too loudly she thought it would be taken back. She was scared. Scared to broken even more than she already was.

I smiled, “I don’t think it.”

Her face fell and tears began to form in her eyes once again.

“I know you’re beautiful Ciara,” I finished, pecking her cheek. “Now c’mon, let’s get out of here.”

I stood up with her still in my arms. She was so light. So fragile.

“I don’t want to go home Gee Gee,” She whimpered into my shoulder and I could feel my t-shirt dampen with yet more fresh tears.

Instead of asking questions that I knew she wouldn’t answer, I just adjusted my arms around her and began walking.

“It’s okay; you can stay in mine tonight.”

She forced a smile that ended up resembling a grimace and kissed my cheek, “Thank you.”

I smiled softly back, “It’s okay Angel, the least I can do.”

She curled up more in my arms as I carried her out of the alleyway that was now full of harrowing memories that I knew would never fade for either of us. I hoped that when we got to my house Ciara would sleep, but knew that she’d just be tormented by nightmares.