My Bruised Heart

Coffee always made me happy, especially when I was in a bad mood. The way the coffee grinds smelled, the warmth the place emitted when you entered- it was perfect. It was like a drug and I was addicted. I never really liked coffee until my ex-boyfriend Spencer was in my life, he drank it nearly everyday. Of course he had always offered me coffee and I didn't accept any until we had been dating for a year. On a whim I tried the stuff, disgusting at first but after awhile it got better. I liked the more sugary coffee, the fancy stuff. Spencer and I went to coffee shops weekly and got our cups of joe and went on with our day. It was a routine, a ritual, a habit. After Spencer got sent away I never stopped liking coffee. I willed myself to find the stuff disgusting because it was a deadly reminder of Spencer but I couldn't. Coffee made me relaxed- despite the caffeine, calmed me. Let me back track a little. Spencer was sent away because he nearly beat me to death.
He had started hitting me when he got a new job, he'd come home stressed and would get angry easy. Spencer had always been a fuse ready to blow but he had always held it in, well, until half a year ago. I let it happen for six months almost and finally, his fuse blew for good. He had come home angry already and I hadn't cleaned the apartment at all (a bad choice on my part). Spencer was furious, yelling and swinging around in anger about why the house was a shit hole. I tried to argue that I wanted one day to relax and wind down but he immediately hit me, refusing to see my point of view. And that's how it started that fateful night. He wouldn't stop hitting me, bringing me to the ground in pain while he kicked me senseless. I screamed, cried and pleaded and he didn't stop, not even when the cops arrived. When they had him restrained I was immediately taken to the hospital to find out I had three broken ribs, a fractured radius and a concussion.
When I was released about two weeks after the incident I was sent to my parents house. They both fussed over me, tending to my every need and making sure I was alright. Of course I wasn't alright, I was scarred mentally and physically. I was bruised and battered, some of the scars made were never going away. As I recovered for a month I was so depressed, sad. Nothing could make me happy, not even my photography or coffee. After two months passed I got up from sitting on my ass and decided to find a job. I put in applications for photography positions, sending them out only to receive declines due to my inexperience. Sensing my need to leave my parents home a miracle was sent to me.

The day had gone by slow, proving to be extremely boring as I sat in my parent's living room. Recently I had started taking more pictures and I was going through them to see any faults. Since my near death I hadn't really left my parents home unless I was putting in applications or slowly moving stuff from my old apartment. My bruising was gone for the most part and my arm was out of a sling, but my ribs still stung in pain. The doctor told me that I would always have some discomfort there but it was nothing to worry about. Jolting me from my thoughts, I glanced at the telephone that was constantly ringing. It's rings piercing the silence of the house, annoying me. My parents had went on a small trip on my account after I complained of them never leaving me alone. Sighing I grabbed the phone and clicked the green button to answer it.
"Grey residence." I answered.
"Hello, I am looking for Noelle Grey."
"This is she." I grit my teeth, this better not be one of those organizations that begged for you to donate.
"Hello, Ms. Grey. My name is Andrew Fredrick, one of the Rise Records managers (A/N this is totally made up)." The man stated into the speaker and I frowned. "We have gone through your resume and your demo photos you sent about a month ago." Oh, Rise Records. I did remember sending them something but I forgot about it after a month passed.
"Oh, I see."
"Well, we would like to hire you, Ms. Grey."
"Seriously!? Ahem, really, sir?" I coughed, embarrassed.
"Yes, seriously." He laughed. "We are in need of a band photographer and you seem perfect."
"Perfect!"
"Let me tell you that this is going to be vastly different from your normal photos." Andrew said, making me frown. "The band is Of Mice & Men, have you heard of them?"
"I've heard of a book called that, not a band."
"I see, well this band is what they call a 'metal-core' band. Don't be discouraged yet, Ms. Grey, this is an amazing opportunity. You can travel the US and do something you love, something that will be used in many magazines and such. You will work closely with the band, take pictures and get a front row experience without the nuisance of shoving fans."
"A 'metal-core' band?"
"Yes."
"I'm not sure-"
"Please don't decline this offer, Ms. Grey. You seem to be a young, energetic photographer who wants to take on new challenges, am I right?"
"Well, yes, but-"
"Your pay will be a good sum and your travel expenses and such will be paid for. All your accommodations, food, rooms and such will be included. You will see the world and be able to capture many different scenes, not just band pictures." That got my attention.
"And what would my pay be?"
"Five thousand every two weeks."
"Five... Thous- wow, uhm..."
"Yes, seems low but we really want you to join our company."
"Low? You are out of your mind, Mr. Fredrick! Five thousand every two weeks in nearly ten times more than I make now."
"What do you say, Ms. Grey?"
"I accept your offer." I stated without any regrets, I needed this.

Not only a week later I was mailed a plane ticket to Oregon to meet with Mr. Fredrick and the band at Rise Records. A letter was also attached, explaining what I needed to bring and such. I was advised to bring a lot of clothes and anything I would miss because I'd be on tour with the band for a year. When I told my parents about my new job they were unhappy with me.
"What do you mean you'll be travelling for a year?" My mother exclaimed. "Didn't you even think about the consequences of this job? You'd be nonstop moving, traveling with no roots anywhere. You'd be in foreign places with strange people."
"Mom, I need this. I need to get away." I told her. "I don't want to sit here and wallow in self pity. Spencer is gone and I want to start a new life."
"You'll have no friends! What if these band members hate you? You'll be alone and wish you'd have stayed home with your father and I."
"Dad?" I gave my father a pleading look.
"Noelle, I trust your decisions, but after you nearly... well, I'd rather you stay home." My father admitted.
"I can't believe this! I'm twenty-three years old and you are telling me what to do. Every time I stay home all I can think about it Spencer and I want it to stop. I want the pain to stop and moving on will do this."
"Honey, have you taken up the doctor's suggestion of taking to someone? To help you get some feelings out?" My mother asked, making me angry.
"I do not need a shrink to ask my personal questions." I spat out. "I am leaving in two days and I won't regret it." I stood up and left my parents in the kitchen, hating how they treated me like a child, like I was made of glass. I was a big girl and this was my choice. I wanted to leave Arizona for awhile. The two days passed quickly and were spent packing clothes, books, electronics and all their chargers, make up and hair products and blankets. Three suitcases later and a carry-on I was on my way to Oregon, leaving all my memories behind.