Redemption
So you like to drink?
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Allie grimaced at her appearance into the dingy bathroom mirror. Her greasy, smoke filled blonde hair clung to her sweaty skin. Her green eyes were dark and empty, surrounded by faint purple circles. She hadn't really slept in days. The hanging fluorescent lights above her flickered. They gave the room a blue-ish hue, not helping her appearance any. She washed her hands and returned to the bar. When she was good and drunk, she stumbled out the back door, falling to her ass in the alley.
"Oops," she giggled to herself, attempting to stand herself back up. A man approached her, grabbing her by the wrist. She stared at his large fingers closed around her wrist, a confused look in her eyes. He said a menacing sentence in Swedish and roughly pulled her closer. She cried out in pain, a childlike bewilderment written on her face as be drug her behind him.
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Allie's POV
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"Why did you save me?" I questioned the tall blonde man standing over me.
"Well I couldn't just let him do god knows what to you, could I?"
"Most people could," I shrugged.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing getting shitfaced in a foreign bar anyway?" He seemed almost annoyed with me.
I scoffed, "Pretty? That's a new one. I came here because I had nowhere better to be..."
"Care to explain?" He wondered impatiently.
"I have nothing, so I might as well have nothing in Sweden, right?" I retorted.
"Where are you staying?" He asked, a glint of sadness in his blue eyes.
"Wherever I end up," I said, standing up.
"Where are you going?" I ignored his question and ran a hand through my hair.
"Thanks for saving me. I should probably get going though."
"Stay for a little while, I don't mind," he assured me. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy. A guy who actually had his shit together, unlike myself.
"No one wants a homeless alcoholic hanging around in their house on a Sunday," I smirked, placing my hand on the doorknob.
"So you like to drink?"
"Not proud of it... But can't seem to quit," the sun was peeking through the blinds, brightening the room.
"My mom struggled with alcoholism, but she eventually got herself back on the right track," his blue eyes watched me close, almost begging me to stay.
"I'm happy for her," I said with a sad smile.
"She could help you. I'm sure she would love to, actually."
"I'm past help, Alex," he shook his head and grabbed a pen from the table.
"Look, here's my number and address. If you need anything at all. Money, food, a ride, a place to stay... Or if you change your mind about getting help, just come by or give me a call." He scribbled something on the back of an envelope and handed it to me.
I nodded and turned the doorknob.
Allie grimaced at her appearance into the dingy bathroom mirror. Her greasy, smoke filled blonde hair clung to her sweaty skin. Her green eyes were dark and empty, surrounded by faint purple circles. She hadn't really slept in days. The hanging fluorescent lights above her flickered. They gave the room a blue-ish hue, not helping her appearance any. She washed her hands and returned to the bar. When she was good and drunk, she stumbled out the back door, falling to her ass in the alley.
"Oops," she giggled to herself, attempting to stand herself back up. A man approached her, grabbing her by the wrist. She stared at his large fingers closed around her wrist, a confused look in her eyes. He said a menacing sentence in Swedish and roughly pulled her closer. She cried out in pain, a childlike bewilderment written on her face as be drug her behind him.
---
Allie's POV
---
"Why did you save me?" I questioned the tall blonde man standing over me.
"Well I couldn't just let him do god knows what to you, could I?"
"Most people could," I shrugged.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing getting shitfaced in a foreign bar anyway?" He seemed almost annoyed with me.
I scoffed, "Pretty? That's a new one. I came here because I had nowhere better to be..."
"Care to explain?" He wondered impatiently.
"I have nothing, so I might as well have nothing in Sweden, right?" I retorted.
"Where are you staying?" He asked, a glint of sadness in his blue eyes.
"Wherever I end up," I said, standing up.
"Where are you going?" I ignored his question and ran a hand through my hair.
"Thanks for saving me. I should probably get going though."
"Stay for a little while, I don't mind," he assured me. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy. A guy who actually had his shit together, unlike myself.
"No one wants a homeless alcoholic hanging around in their house on a Sunday," I smirked, placing my hand on the doorknob.
"So you like to drink?"
"Not proud of it... But can't seem to quit," the sun was peeking through the blinds, brightening the room.
"My mom struggled with alcoholism, but she eventually got herself back on the right track," his blue eyes watched me close, almost begging me to stay.
"I'm happy for her," I said with a sad smile.
"She could help you. I'm sure she would love to, actually."
"I'm past help, Alex," he shook his head and grabbed a pen from the table.
"Look, here's my number and address. If you need anything at all. Money, food, a ride, a place to stay... Or if you change your mind about getting help, just come by or give me a call." He scribbled something on the back of an envelope and handed it to me.
I nodded and turned the doorknob.