Whiskey Lullaby

Chapter 2

"Rosemarie, you've got a visitor," Trishta, my caretaker said as she enters my room. I raise my eyebrow at her in question. I never have a visitor.

"Who is it?"

"I don't know. Some boy with long hair."

"Boy with long hair," I mumble to myself in shock. Why would he be here? I get up off of the bed and walk out the door to the commons room where the man that helped me back here last Friday stands. I walk over to him with a hard face.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him.

"Well, you see, I was shocked when I found out you live in an orphanage, but I wanted to see you again. I never got your name."

"That's because I didn't give it," I say shortly. He scoffs.

"Come on, don't be so sour. My name is Brian, you?"

"Christina Aguilera."

"Hmm," he chuckles,"funny, what's your real name?"

"Will you leave me alone if I tell you my name?"

"Probably not," he admits, "but it's worth the shot."

"Fine," I sigh."Rose, my name is Rose."

"Very nice to meet you,Rose."

"Hmm," I acknowledge.

Over the next few months he visits every weekend on Saturday and we become close. We might have even become friends. I learned that he loves music, and he writes his own songs. He says he wants me to meet his friends who are helping him along the way to live his dream of creating music. I told him about my past and my love for writing. Mostly fanfiction stories, but sometimes i write my own action and romance stories. I haven't let him read any yet.

One day, Brian comes to the orphanage with a thick black notebook with lots of scratches in it with art designs all over it like he'd scratched it in with a sharp pencil or knife. He sits with me on my small bed and opens it to the fifth page.

"What's this?" I ask as he hands it to me and I take it.

"My song book. That's a song I've been working on. It's not finished yet."

I purse my lips together and start to read it.

"CAKE AND SODOMY"
'I am the god of fuck, i am the god of fuck
virgins sold in quantity, herded by heredity
red-neck-burn-out-mid-west-mind, "who said date rape isn't kind?"
porno-nation, evaluation
what's this, "time for segregation"
libido, libido fascination, too much oral defication
white trash get down on your knees, time for cake and sodomy
time for cake and sodomy
(I am the god of fuck, i am the god of fuck)
vcr's and vasoline, tv-fucked by plastic queens
cash in hand and dick on screen, who said god was ever clean?
bible-belt 'round anglo-waste, putting sinners in their place
yeah, right, great if you're so good explain the shit stains on your face
white trash get down on your knees, time for cake and sodomy
time for cake and sodomy'

I smile up at Brian.

"This is really good. I'd listen to it."

"Thanks," we sit in silence for a little bit, me going through his song book. Most of his songs were re-writes of others peoples works, and side notes of getting permission for his band to preform them.

"Listen," Brian says, breaking the silence. "I know we haven't known each other for very long, but...I want to get you out of here. I think that, you've at least known me long enough to trust me...well, I guess what I'm trying to ask is....would you like to move out of here, and come...live with me?"

I give him a weird look and he throws his hands up in surrender. "As friends! I'm asking as a friend!" I look down at my lap as I hand him back his book. He want's me to move in with him? "I can sign you out, I'll take care of everything."

"I...don't know. That's really...huge."

"I know it is. But please, consider?"

"Can you give me tonight to think about it?"

"Of course. Take as much time as you need," Brian says as he stands up. We look up at the clock and it says 6:00 P.M. "I should probably go. Band practice in the morning."

"Yeah, good night."

"Night," he says and walks out. That night I lay in my bed with the tattered blue blanket pulled up to my chin.

I've got a decision to make. I've only met him a month ago, but, I don't wanna say no. He can get me out of here..