Little Hell

It was exactly 3:42 AM and Blaire sat wide awake at her paint easel hoping something brilliant would sweep across the canvas. Whenever Blaire paints, she paints in front of the large living room window to try to spark inspiration. On this particular morning, a thin layer of snow is rested on top of the city. To most people, it'd be a very ordinary occurrence but to Blaire, the smallest changes in her beautiful city, are the changes that she adored most. She lightly dipped her thin paint brush into the gray paint and began to paint the loveliest landscape.

"Blaire!"

She turned around, quickly. Her boyfriend, Glen, stood behind her, an angry expression on his face. She was more than frightened at this point but on the outside she looked as hard as rock.

"You woke me up again!" he spat angrily, taking a step towards her.

"I've been sitting at this window silently Glen," she defended.

"Well I'm pissed off and here you are!"

"Go back to fucking bed then!"

Blaire got to her feet and crossed her arms. Glen quickly got close to her and grabbed her shoulders, shoving her back lightly.

"How dare you talk to me like that."

"Don't touch me!"

Blaire's words only angered him more. He grabbed her and pushed her against the wall roughly. She winced slightly and prepared herself for his raised hand that then slapped her face and left a harsh sting. She slid down the wall and hugged her knees, feeling small and defeated.

"You're pathetic," he said.

"I hate you! I fucking hate you!"

Glen shook his head and kicked her with as much force as he could before he left the room and went back to bed. Blaire felt tears prick her eyes as she rubbed over the hurting skin that would soon be another bruise to add to her collection. Sadly this was something that happened frequently for Blaire. The tough girl on the outside was a shattered girl on the inside.



About a mile away, Kale laid on his bed with a book flat open on his chest as he looked at the ceiling. Kale was different in such a way that he didn't spend much time away from home. It wasn't because he didn't like people or outside in general. It was because home was the only place quiet enough in the city for him to think. He loved to spend afternoons thinking about his endless possibilities. The only problem was, his endless possibilities were too endless. He could never make up his mind about anything. His original plan was to become an architect and design buildings for cities but now he found himself more of a writer. He also contemplated whether or not he should take up the guitar.

He turned over to his side and stared at the fish tank that was gurgling quietly in the corner of his room. All night he had been considering what his café beauty, Blaire, could possibly be doing at such an hour. He figured she'd be sound asleep in her queen bed that was covered in expensive pillows. It was curiosity that drove him to write. The things he didn't have answers for, he would create answers for in his stories.

He walked over to his desk space and opened the drawer. Inside were hundreds of loose pieces of papers - most of them being stories that he never finished. He rummaged around for a clean sheet then grabbed a pen and began to write and write about Blaire until he found himself too tired to continue and fell asleep on the desk.


Noon finally hit and Blaire had been showered and dressed, ready to go. Glen was already gone for work so from then until 7:00 PM she had the house to herself and her worries could be put to rest. She quickly locked the door, fastened her jacket belt, and then began to head towards the café.

It was colder than yesterday but Blaire took every opportunity she got to go for walks. It was another way to create beautiful paintings. The more you see, the more you create. Just as she was about to walk into the building, Kale bumped into her while he was changing the song on his iPod. She raised her eyebrows and opened the door, ignoring his apology.

"Hey Blaire!" said Jacob happily.

"Hello Jacob."

She took her seat and waited to be served by the kind waiter and Kale quickly caught up to her and took a seat beside.

"Sorry about that," he said again.

"Don't worry about it."

There was an awkward pause before Kale found something else to say.

"So do you come here every day?" he asked curiously.

"If I can, then I do."

"You don't ever get sick of the same old routine?"

Blaire turned to him, her red lipstick hardly showing as she pursed her lips.

"You have really nice eyes," she said finally.

"What?"

"Your eyes. They're really quite something."

He smiled. "Thanks."

Jacob appeared with a cup of tea for the two of them. He gave Kale a look that reminded him of what he said yesterday. Kale tried to ignore it and took a sip of his tea after saying thank you.

"And how are you princess?" Jacob asked Blaire who was now sitting more upright as she leaned to reach her tea.

"I couldn't be better."

"Good to hear," he said before walking away.

If only someone put more thought into her words. I couldn't be better wasn't an expression she used to say that she was in fact, in a good mood. She said it to signify the fact that she believed she would never feel better than what she felt now: like complete and utter shit.

Kale looked down at Blaire's arm that was exposed as she leaned on the countertop and saw a thin bruise that made him look at her funny.

"What's that from?" he asked.

"I'm clumsy."

Lying came as easy as breathing to Blaire. She could do it in her sleep. The sad part was people almost always believed her.

"I'm not the most coordinated either," he said, "see?"

He lifted up his shirt and revealed a bruise that he had given himself on the hip from bumping into the corner of a wall earlier in the day. Blaire smiled.

"What brought you here today?" Blaire wondered aloud.

"You."

"It's funny you say that."

"Why?"

"Because you were the reason that I wasn't going to come."

He looked at his feet, suddenly embarrassed and hurt. Jacob heard from across the room and only grinned to himself for he had basically just proved his point about Blaire. She appeared to be a sweet, simple, well-dressed girl to most guys and Jacob had watched many line up to talk to her and only be disappointed when she shot them down. He had been one of them which is why he knew her act best.

"You look disappointed," Blaire commented.

"I am."

"Why's that?"

"Because now my story needs to be changed."

She looked at him, taken slightly off guard. "Story?"

"Yes."

"You mean to say that you wrote a story about me?"

"I had started one quite early this morning. I titled it Café Beauty."

"That's absolutely ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous is the fact that I am going to have another wasted piece of paper to add to the collection in my desk."

Blaire looked at Kale with a spark of interest. Normally the guy would have left by now. Yet, here Kale was: eyes wide and hopeful, waiting for Blaire's next move. If only he knew what could possibly be in store for him next.