Status: Complete
Because You're Mine
Laundry
The apartment Connor and Murphy MacManus shared was run-down and dirty. They did their best to keep it neat, but there was very little that could actually be done. Most of the tenants were drug addicts and prostitutes, but there were a few people scattered throughout the building that were just down on their luck and struggling to get through each day. Their neighbor was one of those down on their luck people. They had never spoken to her before, other than a simple 'hello' or a nod when passing her in the hall. They didn't even know her name, nor did she know theirs. But they could tell she was different from the other tenants, despite being able to hear her nightly arguments with her on-again off-again boyfriend.
Murphy actually felt bad for the girl. He didn't understand how she could put up with both the mental and physical abuse. He'd hear the shouts when he laid in bed at night attempting to go to sleep. And all though he had never seen her boyfriend hit her, he had seen the bruises on her face and on her arms. There had been many times when he wanted to intervene, but his brother had talked him out of it. Connor had wanted to help the girl as well, but with all of the trouble they had been in, it was better to just stay out of it.
Murphy sat by the door and listened to his neighbor's door shut. He listened to her footsteps on the hard wood floor as she walked down the hall, waiting for them to disappear before he bothered to grab the basket of his and Connor's laundry. It wasn't that he was avoiding his neighbor, he just didn't want to see her with another bruise on her face. He had listened to her and her boyfriend fighting the night before, and that usually ended with her getting a black eye. He walked down to the basement/laundry room and seen her standing in front of one of the dryers pulling damp clothes out of it and throwing them into one of the washing machines. "Throwing the clothes in there like that is going to unbalance the machine," he said as he started loading his laundry into one of the machines.
"I don't care!" she said, anger, hatred, and sadness filled her voice.
"I'm sorry....I'm just trying to be helpful."
She stopped and looked up at him. "I don't need help! What I need is to pay attention and not leave clothes on the floor. Then I won't have to rewash everything all because a stupid shirt got left behind."
Murphy glanced at the clothes she was pulling out of the dryer. They were men's clothes. If they had of been her clothes, she probably wouldn't of worried about one shirt getting left behind. "Sorry," he said again. His voice was low enough that she probably didn't hear him. She slammed the dryer door shut when she was finished and started the washer. After pouring the detergent into the washer she slammed the lid of that shut as well and stomped past Murphy and up the stairs without even glancing at him.
Murphy sighed and shook his head. He had noticed the bruise on the side of her face that she had attempted to cover with make up, and it made him mad that she'd be with someone who would beat her. That wasn't love, and Murphy felt like no woman deserved to be treated like that. "What can you do about it?" he muttered to himself before closing the lid to the washer and walking back upstairs to his apartment.
Murphy actually felt bad for the girl. He didn't understand how she could put up with both the mental and physical abuse. He'd hear the shouts when he laid in bed at night attempting to go to sleep. And all though he had never seen her boyfriend hit her, he had seen the bruises on her face and on her arms. There had been many times when he wanted to intervene, but his brother had talked him out of it. Connor had wanted to help the girl as well, but with all of the trouble they had been in, it was better to just stay out of it.
Murphy sat by the door and listened to his neighbor's door shut. He listened to her footsteps on the hard wood floor as she walked down the hall, waiting for them to disappear before he bothered to grab the basket of his and Connor's laundry. It wasn't that he was avoiding his neighbor, he just didn't want to see her with another bruise on her face. He had listened to her and her boyfriend fighting the night before, and that usually ended with her getting a black eye. He walked down to the basement/laundry room and seen her standing in front of one of the dryers pulling damp clothes out of it and throwing them into one of the washing machines. "Throwing the clothes in there like that is going to unbalance the machine," he said as he started loading his laundry into one of the machines.
"I don't care!" she said, anger, hatred, and sadness filled her voice.
"I'm sorry....I'm just trying to be helpful."
She stopped and looked up at him. "I don't need help! What I need is to pay attention and not leave clothes on the floor. Then I won't have to rewash everything all because a stupid shirt got left behind."
Murphy glanced at the clothes she was pulling out of the dryer. They were men's clothes. If they had of been her clothes, she probably wouldn't of worried about one shirt getting left behind. "Sorry," he said again. His voice was low enough that she probably didn't hear him. She slammed the dryer door shut when she was finished and started the washer. After pouring the detergent into the washer she slammed the lid of that shut as well and stomped past Murphy and up the stairs without even glancing at him.
Murphy sighed and shook his head. He had noticed the bruise on the side of her face that she had attempted to cover with make up, and it made him mad that she'd be with someone who would beat her. That wasn't love, and Murphy felt like no woman deserved to be treated like that. "What can you do about it?" he muttered to himself before closing the lid to the washer and walking back upstairs to his apartment.