This story was originally put under my old FanFiction name, Rosemarie Alanna Ann Belikov. After deciding to came back under this current username, , I thought I would write this story once again, and improve it, seeing as that it was once quite popular.
The United States of America, 1905
The gun is cold. Even though I'm wearing thick fabric, I can feel it against my skin, feel how cold it is. When I drown down the liquid in my crystal glass, the cold feeling vanishes for a fraction of a second as warmth and numbness takes over. I wish it was stronger, the warmth. Sadly, no matter how much I drink, I can't become drunk, not even a fraction, just lightly buzzed. My body tingles, but the thoughts I wish to smother don't stop, the thoughts of using the gun. Using it won't stop the thoughts for long; it won't keep me incapacitated for long. Going through another bottle of dark liquid, I decide to leave the dark and sparely filled bar. Even though I don't need it, I pull my coat up over my shoulders and begin to walk towards my home. I don't get more than ten feet before I hear it, before I hear the soft cry, the gentle sniffle.
For a fraction of a moment, I consider not investigating; I consider just going home and getting the evening over with. Attempting to block out the sounds, I begin my walk once again, but, cannot continue going when the cry becomes a sobbing. "Damn it," I whisper to myself, making my way towards the sound. "My fucking conscious always has to step in and—"My voice cuts off as I see what's before me.
A girl, no older than fifteen years old, dressed in a ratty and darkened dress, sits in a alley corner, directly next to the bar. Walking towards her slowly, attempting to get a better look at her, I step upon a twig and I instantly curse myself for not having been more careful. The girls head snaps up, and she begins to shake, sobs becoming even worse.
"What's your name?" Kneeling down, keeping my voice soft and quiet in order to not frighten her further. When I take a closer look at her features, I notice that her lip is cut open, black surrounding her eye that slowly swells.
She hesitates, eyes staring up at me with tears spilling from them. "Ro-Rosemarie."
"My name's Dimitri. Why are you doing here, Rosemarie?"
"I don' know. He… he just left me here." A twinge of anger runs through my stomach as I think about the terrible world we live in, think about all of the terrible things I've seen. "He just left me here, saying he was sor—"A near violent cough cuts off her words, causing her body to shake. It's then that I notice how cold she is, flesh goosebumped and pale. She can't stay out here much longer; she's already at risk to become sick, I can't let it get any worse.
"Rosemarie, I know that you don't know me, and I know that can be very scary, but, I promise to you that I will never harm you nor will I ever let someone else bring you harm. As long as you are under my care, you will be safe and cared for."
Her tears subside a tad, but fear still rests in her eyes. "O-okay."
"Okay. Now, Rosemarie, I'm going to take you to my home. You can't stay out here much longer, or you'll get sick. We can't let that happen." She nods, taking my hands as I help her up off the ground. A hiss of pain leaves her, her ankle giving out from under her. With impeccable speed, I scoop her into my arms, pressing her close to my chest. "Is this okay?" She nods again, and we make our way to my home.
When we arrive, no longer than ten minutes later, I am instantly greeted by my maid, Amie. Amie is a woman of fifty years, perhaps more, I've never asked. She always stays covered, from head to toe, hair pulled back in a tight graying bun. When she walks into the room, prepared to take my coat, she freezes, eyes growing wide as she stares at the girl in my arms.
"What the hell did you do?"
"We have no time for that."
"Well excuse me, but you have a child in your arms! And look at her, she's covered in grime!"
"I found her by the bar," I announce, softly setting Rosemarie down before the older woman who instantly helps to hold her up. "She said that a man left her there."
She frowns, knowing just as well as me what that could men. "Oh my, dear, let's go get you cleaned up."
I give Amie a nod, thanking her, and then watch as she takes Rosemarie to be bathed. After she's vanished from sight, I leave Amie a note, saying that I would be out for a short time, retuning with something for the girl to wear, knowing what would happen, what would have to happen. Whoever the man was, he left her there for a reason, no matter the reason, and he didn't want her any longer. A flurry of anger runs through me, fearing for what could have happened to the innocent woman back in my home, beaten and bruised. Well, that no longer matters. No longer will she life in fear, no longer will she be unprotected and uncared for. No longer do I think about the gun resting against my thigh, all I can think about is protecting Rosemarie.