"Get the hell out of my way!" With a leather boot, the front door was kicked open abruptly.
"Babe, come back inside. We can work this out! I'll forgive you if you just come back in."
"Forgive ME?! Fuck off. I don't need your self projection." Boots stomped aggressively on the porch and halfway down the wooden stairs before a pause. "You're pathetic. Don't you dare bother to contact me. I'm done with your slander, accusations, and manipulation. I'm done making excuses for you. Fend for yourself, mother fucker." The stairs creaked as the steps started up again.
"Look at you running away again! What you're best at!" Shouts continued from the doorway.
A scoff came from her as she flung open the passenger side door. A large box of various belongings were dropped in the front seat. Walking around to the other side, she opened up the driver side door and hopped in. Turning the key over, the boat of a car roared to life. She wasted no time in stepping on the gas peddle and zooming away. Looking into the rear view mirror, she saw her now ex still standing in the doorway, staring her down.
For awhile she drove aimlessly. Going home probably wasn't the best idea at the moment, her ex could stop by. Didn't exactly want to deal with anymore of that right now. She had been dealing with his shit for almost a year now. Somehow how he had managed to isolate her and get in her head at the time. Making her feel like she was useless without him. Throwing items and yelling was a constant in their relationship. The occasional bruise or cut marked her body. Something snapped in her head though. She was drained, sick of feeling like she was garbage. Tired of being told how she was feeling. Ready to try and take steps as her own person again. However, she wasn't quite sure how to do that at the moment, but she was sure as hell going to try.
Looking up, she saw a bar to her right. "Fuck it." She thought as she pulled into the parking lot. "I could use a drink for what I've been through. Relaxing and clearing my head could do me some good."
Five glasses of whisky in, she was nursing a sixth. Humming to the music in the bar she chatted with the bartender.
"You know how fucks up this all is? It's really fucked…" The words began to slur a bit. She had been telling the keep about her situation, who in return was being gracious with the serving sizes. "Have you ever let a man screw you over like that?" She sipped at her drink.
"I think we all have, babe. Just the extent of it is different for each one. Look at it this way though, you managed to get out. That's the best thing you could have done." The bartender continued to make drinks for other customers.
"Yeah….yeah...I got out." Grabbing her drink she made her way towards the bathroom, trying not to trip over her own feet or any of the other patrons. After taking a piss she checked herself in the mirror. A flushed face looked back at her. She tugged on the hem of her skirt and adjusted her tank top. She was clad in all black, including the ripped up stockings that clung to her legs. After making sure she didn't look like the drunken wreck she felt she was, she exited the bathroom. A man standing at a table she was about to pass whistled out to her.
"Hey, baby."
She raised a hand at him. "Not interested." She said blatantly and walked on.
Apparently males don't take kindly to being blown off. As she walked by the guy grabbed her by the arm. Her head whipped around and she looked at him wide eyed and in shock. A glimpse of the past year shot through her head.
"Let. Go. Of my arm." She demanded in a stern voice.
"Come on, sweetie. I just want to get to know ya." He winked and tried to flash what was supposedly a heart melting smile.
"Who the hell do you think you are, you sleeze bag?!" She ripped her arm away from his grasp. "Get your crusty cum covered hands off of me and mind your dick, asshole!" The booze was definitely cutting out the buffer between her sense of caution and mouth.
Males also don't like being questioned aggressively, either. His seat flew back as he stood up. "The hell did you say to me?" He was fuming, trying to puff up his chest at her and be intimidating. "Aren't you a snarky bitch?"
The commotion had caused a few people to look their way. There's was a particular man that had a stern face of concern. Her eyes rolled and she started to walk away again. Next thing she knew, the guy who had been looking on at them intently was standing next to her. The aggressor's arm in his hand.
"I think that's enough." He loomed over the guy.
"Fine." He ripped his arm away and scurried back over to his corner of the bar.
Looking up at the guy, he seemed like a towering sky scraper at this angle. "I was taking care of that." She stated. Moving back a bit to get a better look at him, she tripped over a bar stool and landed firmly on her ass. She grimaced, but smiled when she managed not to spill her drink.
"Yeah, I can see that." He tried to suppress a laugh and held out a hand to help the drunken girl up. "I'm Sam Winchester." He tugged her up.
"Trile. Trile Beemer." She stated matter of factly. Standing on her feet like a newborn deer.
"Woah there." He steadied her, getting her to sit down in one of the seats. She took another swig of her drink once she got settled. "Maybe, uh, you should slow down on those." Attempting to take the drink from her hand, Trile reared back.
"No no. You do not take a girl's drink away from her. Especially with the day or year, whichever you prefer, that I've had." She took another long drink from her glass.
"Alright then." Shrugging, he let her continue to nurse her drink.
The two sat and chatted for awhile, she unloaded her disdain for her ex on him. He listened on in concern, trying to console her a couple time. She just blew it off, saying that it really wasn't that bad. The topic changed a few times, she found out Sam was going to school for law, while she told him she was one of those starving artist types just trying to make ends meet.
A pack of cigarettes got pulled out of her tank top, along with a lighter. She struggled to get the end lit, but managed. The nicotine hit her head and the room started to spin. "Oh fuck…" She put her hand on her forehead. "Not good."
"Told you, should slow down on the drinks."
"I think I'm going to be sick." She wobbled towards the entrance door of the bar and snuck around the corner. Emptying her stomach in the nearest bush. Sam had followed her out and was standing behind her. After a few heaves she flopped over on her back in the grass. "I'm pretty sure I'm dying."
"Let's get you home. Do you want me to drive you? Save some money on a cab?" He kneeled next to her. The man still seemed like a giant, even though he was closer to the ground now.
"That'd be….nice." She huffed and rolled over and got on her knees. Sam helped her to her feet once again, and walked her to his car.