Inspired by She Will be Loved by Maroon 5.
There's a map on our bodies. They speak of the stories we tell, and the ones we don't. Of hidden truths and half lies. What secrets do skin and bones and eyes hide? Zachary Goode thought on his way home. He walked. Walked everywhere he did. Traffic in New York was dreadful. And it was only a block away from his office to his home. Zachary Goode was young, only 23, but his mother owned the firm and he got a job there fresh from college. He hated the job of sitting and files all day, but it paid well, he would leave, leave, he decided, when he had enough money when he could.
It was raining, and slightly cold, the spring of New York. It was late too. He watched as people walked by in tight clothing, and perfume that made him gag. It was about ten on a Friday night. Zach was gone the day before, so his desk was piled with paperwork, not only that, another employee was gone on vacation this whole week, so he got some of their work with his own. Though, he wasn't thinking of paperwork or the secretary's number in his pocket, but of the stories the body told. He had lunch with his friend, Bex, who majored in psychology, who told him how the mind corresponds with the way the body looks and acts. Which must be why he was thinking about this topic on his way home. He stopped and rested by a building, not that he was tired or anything, he was in great shape, played football in high school and college, he wondered why he gave that up for computers and papers. It was just hard to think and walk, you're bound to either get your wallet stolen or get yelled at for bumping into someone. So he rested against the wall thinking. If he starts losing hair around his thirties would he go bald? If he started sleeping around again like he did in high school will he be a father to many kids of different mothers? Damn Bex. He started walking again and tried to push the what ifs from his mind when he saw her.
She was always there, but he never looked that closely at her. She was always there when he had stayed late at work, usually leaving around ten. Even on Monday nights and such. Since he stayed late at work at lot, he saw her a lot. Though, they weren't friends, nor did they know each other. Just strangers who past quite frequently. Every time he saw her, it was the same scene. An old abandon building behind her, which he thought was once a glorious hotel, you could just tell it used to be pretty by the curving vines and old but full of character bricks. On a sidewalk she will be standing, right at a corner of a crossing, and cars that whipped her hair. Zach thought she was quite pretty, and so was he, green eyed and brown haired, but never talked to her because he knew what she did. She had lovely light brown hair, though, now that he thought about it, could also be blonde. And brown eyes the color of autumn leaves. Her looks were pretty and sweet would be described, but not her clothes. Tight black skirts she wore, with fishnet tights filled with tiny holes and shirts that usually showed some of her belly. Thick mascara, cheap red lipstick just ruined that sweet face, and heels that he bet were impossible to run in. The girl on the corner was a prostitute. And Zach wanted nothing to do with that, but he still wondered what stories her body hid. He walked right by without a second glance, though. She didn't look at him either.
It was the next night, around one in the morning, and Zach was laughing. About what, he didn't know. In one hand he held a bottle of beer and a girl in the other. He was walking the familiar streets of the same way he walked home. He had picked the girl up at the bar, and was drunk out of his mind. The girl on his arm was tall, about his height, and had straight red hair that if she moved too much, looked like fire to him. She kept crashing into him, which he found rather annoying. Nor could he tell if she did it on purpose or was just that drunk.
A crash broke him out of his laughing fit. Up ahead was the same girl on the corner he had passed yesterday and many days before that. She was laying on the ground, her shirt showing more stomach than he should see, and a car speeding away, with a wad of cash being thrown out the window. He paused and wondered if he should help her up. The girl got up, wincing a little, grabbed the cash, and walked away. Too late now, Zach thought.
Monday again. His head still hurt a little from all that he drank Saturday night. But his hangover was about gone. He was walking to work, with a coffee in hand. Then he heard the noise. He was passing her corner, as he would like to call it, when he heard a little groan by the garbage cans which ran along the side of the building. He was curious as what had made the sound, yet, nobody else noticed. He checked his watch, 6:49; he had to be in the office by seven. But decided he could spare a few minutes and walked over to the garbage cans. Lying in a heap of trash was the girl on the corner. A tiny groan escaped her lips. Zach had a flashback of her lying on the ground Saturday night. She seemed pale against the black bags of garbage and he wondered what would happen if he picked her up and brought her home with him. He vanished the thought quickly, he wouldn't make it to work in time, and he wouldn't be there when she woke up. He didn't want to come home to an empty apartment with all his credit cards gone. So he left her by the garbage cars and went to work. But the sight of bruises along her arms and neck made him pause, but only for a second. She's not my problem, he thought, before he carried on his way.
Zach saw her again on his way home. He had stayed late again. She was there like she always was, but a different scene also. Instead of standing with her back straight and eyes watchful, she was sitting on the sidewalk. A joint between her lips. Zach leaned against a nearby building and watched for a moment. She was pale, Zach just noted, which only made the dark bruises stand out more, or yellow, sometimes just black. He wondered if he should be more concerned about the ones that dot her neck. Her eyes weren't watchful, but hazy and full of daze. The way she smoked the joint, so sure, would that mean one day she shall die of an overdose of drugs? If when winter comes this year, colder and snowier than the last, will she freeze? He could help, work was over. She would be fun to fuck. Zach stood in the shadows of the building, thinking, when the man came.
Thick blonde hair covered by a greasy cap. Tough and rough is exactly what he was. Tall and a scar jutting out from the straight line that stopped running across his forehead. He had emerged from the hotel, and just by looking at his stance, Zach could tell he was pissed. Any other people that were along the street hurried on their way. Not wanting to get caught up in the ruckus. Only Zach stayed, hidden among the shadows of the building he leaned against.
"The money bitch." He stuffed out his big, beefy hand.
"Bastard didn't pay me."
"Right," he drawled slowly, Zach thought he detected a slight southern accent, "probably just a free ride to your boyfriends huh?" He clenched his fingers into fists, "I want my money back."
"You'll get it back. Just not right now. Assholes wife came back, and didn't get paid. Escaped through a window," she snapped bitterly.
"Bullshit Cammie." The sight in front of Zach sent horrors up his body. The man shoved her up against a wall. "Guess I'll get my money back in another way." And shoved his hand up her shirt.
Zach wanted to look away, but found out that he couldn't. He also wanted to move, to leave, but his feet stuck to the ground like someone poured concrete over his feet without his knowledge. The only thing he could do was close his eyes. And he kept them closed as her cries and whimpers filled the air. Was he the only one who heard her? Surly there must be someone other than him to save her.
He heard the man groan, and take fast quick breaths. He also heard a sob. And tiny whispers of pleads.
"Please stop. Please stop. Please stop." Being repeated like spell. A spell that did not work.
With one last final groan, Zach heard a zipper being pulled up, and it echoed in his head.
"Just as good as they all say you are. Next time, remember to have my money. I won't go as easy on you as this time." Zach heard footsteps echoing off the silent street. He opened his eyes.
The girl lay in a crumpled heap. Her shirt was ripped, which she held together with a hand pressed to her chest, while the other hand pulled her skirt up. His feet weren't fastened to the ground anymore. Zach walked out of the shadows like he had just appeared instead of being there all along. He took deep breaths as he passed her, afraid she knew he was there and didn't help. But the girl held no notice of him. Instead, focused on her ripped clothes and broken joint that lay on the ground. She picked it up, and tried to take some, but her hands were shaking and it crumbled just like her. She fell apart right behind Zach, but he kept walking.
A man appeared ahead of Zach going the opposite direction, then saw and started running to the crumpled girl. Even as he ran by, quick like his mother was on fire and the girl had the hose, Zach still noticed the bright blue eyes, and the kindness they held. Zach glanced behind him for a second. And wished he didn't. The sight hurt, the girl was wrapped in the blue eyed man's embrace. But still, Zach kept walking. She deserves love, but Zach wasn't the one who should give it to her. He would break her, he knew, just like that blond headed man did. She can be saved, but it will not be he's saving. She will be loved, but he won't be the one loving her. She will be loved, just not by him.
Author's Note: How many of you guys read Ally Carter's website? I loved the post (influences one) because its true! Its all connected, all these little details coming together to make this, its kind of amazing. Anyways, this story wasn't really inspired by the song, but by the lyrics in the summary. So, yeah, review because I lost sleep to finish this, school and stuff, so review? Favorite? Review, again? Okay, I'll stop, but yeah, live, dream, read, so bye.
P.S. Okay, I have decided to get a Beta now, so this is my first time, so . . . Anyone want to Beta for me?