Violinist. There he was again, sitting on the street bench with that battered violin paying no attention to the crowd surrounding him. Something about it seemed sad, I stood at the edges of the crowd and watched. Everyday he was out here, even in the rain. I watched till the crowd thinned before sitting down next to the violinist, lighting up a cigarette. With a frown he snatched it from me.
"Ladies shouldn't smoke," he murmured voice husky from lack of use. I smirked, kicking at the blood splattered baseball bat at my feet, lighting up another.
"I'm no lady Mr. Violinist." He laughed at my words, bring the smoke to his lips. We sat like that for a while, him staring at me and I gazing at the apartment I was living in with my father. We stayed like that till the sun kissed the ground and the sky was a blazing red tinted with orange and pink.
"You should be heading home soon, least you don't have far to go," he murmured, moving to pack up, I glanced at him eyes narrowing. He laughed again, running his fingers through my hair.
"Hard to miss with hair this colour," he explained, letting the blue strands slip through his fingers.
I shrugged not moving at all, muttering, "I don't want to go back, that place isn't a home." He said nothing nodding in understanding, sitting back down besides me. His chocolate brown eyes fixed on the bruise staining my cheek bone. His stare unnerved me I moved a hand up to cover it, shifting so it was hidden from view. I hadn't received it in a fight. Once again the silence fell, it was comforting. A bottle smashed against the pavement a few feet from where I sat, I flinched, not from the noise but from the feeling of my fathers glare. "Get your ass up here you stupid bitch, you should have been home hours ago," he shouted, another bottle in hand ready to be thrown should I resist. I stood retrieving my bat and waved to the violinist.
"Bye," I whispered, sprinting to the apartment building.
He was drinking again, that much was obvious by the amount of bottles littering the hallway. I slammed the door shut behind me, cringing in the silence that followed. I keep a strong grip on the baseball bat as I ventured towards the lounge room, unsure of what he was going to do. The bat was pulled from my grip once I entered the door way, he grabbed my hair dragging me to the centre of the room.
"You stupid bitch, I fucking told you to come right home after school. Do not disobey me again," he shouted, slamming the beer bottle into my collar bone. I hissed in pain, biting my lip to hold back the tears. He growled throwing me into the wall, kicking my ribs as I fell.
"And stay away from that filthy beggar," he warned, tossing the empty bottle out the window. I waited till he left the room for another beer before picking myself up. I groaned as I stood, he'd probably fractured one of my ribs again. I sighed, snatching up the baseball bat on the way to the bath room, praying I would survive the night.
There he was still sitting on the edge of the garden ledge despite the number of bottle my father had tossed out the window in warning last night. The glass littered the ground looking like deadly raindrops. When I glanced at the man he waved, I looked away hurriedly risking a glance up at the apartment. He wasn't staring out the window like yesterday. Feeling adventurous I crossed the courtyard and stood before the violinist but didn't sit down.
"He want out a few minutes ago, my guess is to buy more ammo in the war against me," he said, I managed a small smile and sat down.
"I'm not to speak to you anymore," I muttered, hands folded in my lap, eyes anchored to the ground, looking my like the lady he claimed me to be. The crowd departed once they realised he had finished playing for the day. He was still smiling despite my words.
"Would you like to leave this place?" He asked, surprising me. I looked up at him to see of he was serious, I was losing all hope about ever leaving this place. Slowly I nodded not trusting myself to speak for fear of crying.
"I'll be waiting right here all night, if you wish to leave with me. Now go, I don't want to see you get hurt anymore," he pulled my up gently and shoved me towards the apartment complex. I almost tripped against the paving but once I found my footing I started to run, feeling new hope.
He was shouting about the violinist again, with more beer bottles flying out the window. I ducked into the kitchen grabbing a beer from the fridge before he hollered for a refill. Quietly I pulled the packet of sleeping pills from my pocket, snapping the capsule in half and emptying the contents into the beer. Hopefully it wouldn't taste any different. He snatched the beer from me without a word, downing it as fast as he did the others.
"You didn't talk to that fucking filthy beggar today, did you?" He asked, I shook my head muttering a shaky, "no sir." He nodded once before waving me out of the room, most likely annoyed by the sight of me. I quickly ran from the room to mine, once there I forced the window open as far as it would go. Tied to my bed post was a rope, that I knew ended about a foot from the ground, and tied to the other end my suitcase. Slowly I lowered it down, muscles straining from the weight of it. Once it hit the ground I followed. I didn't feel at all sorry for abandoning my father, nor did I feel any guilt knowing he would drink himself to death without me. The bastard deserved everything he got. I leaned round the corner of the building, waving to capture the attention of the orange head. He smiled upon sighting me and walked over calmly, as if he were finally ready to leave. Grabbing my suitcase and my hand he started to run, I smiled actually laughing as we ran, it was like the cops were chasing us. We stopped besides a car panting, he unlocked it shoving my suitcase in the back before opening the door for me.
"Where would you like to go?" He asked.
"Anywhere but here Mr. Violinist."