There will be uses of different languages, and taking a cue from fellow writer Bitch Goddess, I will put what is said in English in Italics after the sentence. Now Go forth!
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The rain continued to fall as the taxi drove her back to her apartment. Her eyes were red and puffy; they hurt like hell. She didn't want to feel anymore. She would rather be numb then go through with burying her sister, or anyone she cared for; and those were few and far between. Entering the apartment, she headed for the cabinet above the fridge; reaching for the whiskey and taking a swallow.
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The morning rain pelted the windows as Cait stirred on the mattress. She sat up to find that the beds had been pushed together; at least two of them. The rest of the room had look like a tornado had blown through, the place in near shambles.
Cait panned the room; trying to piece what had happened the night before. Murphy was spread eagle on her mattress; his head hung of the edge of one side while the rest of his limbs hung off the other side. He was still wearing the same clothes from the night before. The table had been upturned and one chair had been broken. Cait looked down at her outfit, the black cocktail dress had a rip up the right side, showing a bit more skin than she already had been showing.
Beside her with a groan was Connor, tangled in the sheet. The button up shirt was tossed on the broken chair. Cait rubbed her head, trying to hush the throbbing. Connor moved again, another groan. She got up from her spot on the mattress and went to the shower. Cait turned on the water, running her hands underneath; she cupped the water in her hands, rinsing her face. She heard a faint noise in background, realizing that Connor in fact was up. He walked towards her, scratching the back of his head. He looked at the sleeping form of his brother.
"Hey, don't get started. I don't want none of that."
"What d'ye mean?"
"Last night, alright?"
"Aye."
"Come on Conn, let me change and we'll let Murphy sleep; let's go grab a bite to eat."
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"Jaysus, come on Cait, let's go, I can't believe yer not tired."
"Oh Conner, I am a dancing fiend, and when combined with alcohol, I can go all night."
Cait's hair had fallen, the ends starting to curl in every which way. Her barefoot stepped the wrong way, causing her to collide into Vanessa.
"Girl, you said you could hold your liquor."
"I swear I could last time I checked," Cait giggled uncontrollably, rubbing her eyes and clinging to Vanessa's arm. Vanessa stood her friend up, flattening her hair. She looked over at the boys: both had lit their cigarettes.
"You guys mind if I take my own cab and I'll see you around?"
Connor grabbed Cait's arm, "Aye, drive safe?"
Vanessa hailed a cab, nodding. "Always, bye boys, I'll probably see you around with this spitfire here," she laughed, motioning to Cait.
"Bye." Murphy spoke.
Connor looked at his brother with semi astonishment; that word being the only one he had said since stepping off the dance floor with Cait. He had gone through almost the whole pack of smokes on him. Connor knew something was bothering his brother.
The three walk down the block aways, stopping at a convenient store. Murphy entered, purchasing a pack for each of them. Cait had begun to drag her feet, and mildly complained.
"Can't we get a taxi, please Conn? My feet really hurt."
"Hold on love, we'll get ye a taxi hold on..."
Connor turned to his brother.
"Oy Murph, hail one will ye?"
"Why d'ye need me to?"
" Oh I dunno, if I let go o' her, her pretty little face will be on tha' concrete."
Murphy rolled his eyes and threw his arm out towards the street, promptly bringing a yellow cab in front of them. Murphy entered first, scooting over to the far side of the seat. Connor ushered in Cait, handing her off to Murphy. She leaned her head on his shoulder, curling up close; whispering quietly.
"My Murph..."
He turned his head, staring out the window.
Connor told the driver where to go and the cab sped in the direction of South Boston.
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Cait picked at her crappy attempt at her eggs Benedict in front of her; she pushed them across the plate before looking across at Conner. She hadn't noticed that he sported a shiner on his left eye. Cait dropped her fork on the table and crossed her arms on the table.
"I'm sorry Connor."
Connor took a sip of his tea before speaking.
"Cait, how many times 'ave I told ye, quit apologizin', it wasn't yer fault."
"Then why do I feel like crap?"
"It's called a hangover." Conner chuckled.
Cait rested her hand on Connor's, smiling, "What would I do without you?"
Connor laughed as he flagged down their waitress.
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Cait had fallen asleep as the cab ride continued.
Connor turned to his brother, flicking his ear.
"Murph!" he whispered.
"Oy, what tha' fuck was that fer?"
"Shhhh! She's sleepin'."
"What d'ye want Connor?"
"What's eatin' at ye?"
Murphy shrugged, still looking out the window. "I dunno, will ye just leave it?"
Connor rolled his eyes, " Fine."
The cab pulled up in front of McGinty's, the three piling out slowly. Connor roused Cait, sliding his arm around her side. She stirred.
" We home?"
"Almost, ye hafta' walk now."
"Okay." she sighed, rubbing her eyes.
Murphy stood for a moment, finishing a cigarette with haste. Connor and Cait headed towards the loft whilst Murphy headed in the other direction.
" I'll see ye guys later."
" Murphy, come on." Cait sighed.
" Stow it Cait, I'll see ye guys later, Jaysus!"
Murphy headed down the sidewalk, lighting another cigarette.
Connor squeezed her side, heading towards home. " Come on, let 'im be."
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The walk back from the diner was quiet. Connor and Cait walked in step; letting the rain wet their hair and coats. Entering the lift, Connor removed his coat, running his hand through the wet hair.
" I wonder how he's doing." Cait motioned to the door as they both walked closer.
"Well we're 'bout to find out aren't we?" Connor pushed opened the door to the room.
Cait sighed.
The room had been picked up. The table had been righted, the broken chair had been piled with the rest of the trash ready to be put out. The mattresses were put back the way they were. Steam had fogged the windows and the shower curtain had been pulled aside. The fire escape door was open.
Connor moved to head up towards the fire escape, Cait raised a hand to his chest, leaving him in the loft as she headed up towards the fire escape and onto the roof.
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Connor watched TV as Cait laid down on her mattress, smoking a cigarette. It had been about 2 hours since they had gotten home. Cait was half asleep when the door flew open. Murphy's head hung as he stumbled in. Connor stood up, putting his hand out to stop his brother.
" Is fearr leat dul díreach a chodladh; Is féidir leat a dheartháir liom boladh ." Ye best just go ta bed, I can smell ye brother.
Murphy eyed his brother, "Cé a dhéanann an ifreann cheapann tú go bhfuil tú ag Ma?" Who the hell d'ye think ye are Ma?
Connor shook his head, grabbing his brother by the shoulder. Murphy swung, his fist meeting with Connor's face. Connor staggered backwards, reaching a hand up. Murphy continued farther into the room. Connor jumped on his brother, wrapping his legs around his waist, wailing a few rapid fire hits to the side of his head.
Cait sat up, ignoring the room spinning around her and yelled, " KNOCK IT OFF!!! CONNOR! MURPHY! STOP IT!"
The boys ignored her as Murphy elbowed his brother, causing him to pull backwards; both collapsed on the table, in the process breaking one of the chairs. The two rolled back and forth on the ground: punching, yelling, and screaming. Cait felt around for the closest, and heaviest thing she could find. The object happen to be a half full bottle of Jameson whiskey. She reached her arm back and launched it into the fray, slamming into the side of Murphy's head.
" OY!"
The boys separated, rolling off each other. Murphy reached a hand to his head; he wiped a bit of blood on the carpet crawled over to the farthest mattress and crashed. Cait grabbed the one mattress and pushed it into the one she had been laying on. She laid down on one side, Connor taking the other. She turned, scooting a bit closer.
" Connor, what was that?"
He sighed, staring at the ceiling but before staring back at her.
" That love, is Murph's poor coping."
" What do you mean?"
By that time, Connor had crashed, snoring softly.
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The rain had slowed by the time Cait reached the roof. Murphy sat on the edge of the building; dangling his feet with a cigarette wedged between his pointer and middle fingers. He was sporting a bandage above his right ear; Cait realized that was where the bottle of whiskey had hit him.
She moved a step closer, dragging her feet, making her presence known.
"Don't get any ideas McManus."
Murphy smirked slightly, exhaling a plume of smoke.
" What 'tis it Cait?"
" How's your head?" She motioned with her hands, standing next to him.
Murphy stood, ashing the cigarette and turned; shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging.
" I'll live to see another day."
Cait rolled her eyes, " Figures..."
The two walked towards the fire escape; Murphy reached out, grabbing Cait by the upper arm. Cait froze, staring at the pair of dark eyes staring back at her.
"What?" Cait sighed.
" What d'ye mean by 'Figures'?" Murphy slowly released her arm, not letting his hand leave her skin until he had to.
Cait rubbed her arm, " Nothing, I was going to apologize, but you're always trying to be all macho."
Murphy smirked, " Aye, well, I try."
As the two entered back into the loft, an unfamiliar voice shouted towards them.
" What the fuck?! Who the fuck!? What did you two fuckin' fucks...?"
Cait yelled back, " Excuse me, but who the fuck are you?!"
Both Connor and Murphy roared with laughter as Cait's rosy cheeks flared.
The tall, lanky man who stood in front of her had wide shoulders. He had shoulder length, unkempt wavy hair that accented his strong jaw line; along with a perpetual 5 o'clock shadow.
"Is this the spitfire you told me about Conn?"
" Aye, this be Caitlyn. Caitlyn, meet a good friend o' ours- Rocco."
" Please to meetcha' Cait," Rocco boomed, shoving his hand out.
Cait laughed, " Oh no, the pleasures all mine."
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The introduction of Rocco into Cait's day to day life was a healthy one. He had the same humor as Cait and both had too much fun poking fun at the boys. She thoroughly enjoyed when Rocco came around to the loft. It had been a few months since that day. The boys finally deemed it alright for Cait to go out and take photos. She been keeping on her game; photographing her boys, in both serious and silly fashion.
It had been a Wednesday night, Rocco came over for their weekly craps game.
The sun had gone down a while ago, and Murphy grew restless; every other noise would have him staring at the door. Connor was on edge as well: Cait was usually home before dark. Something didn't sit well with him.
The door flew open, revealing a sight that made all three boys sick. Cait stood in the doorway, both arms bracing herself, trying to keep herself up. Her light blue shirt was saturated with blood; her face was bruised and cut up bad. Her hair was soaked with sweat and blood. She lifted her head, tears rolling down her face; speaking in barely a whisper.
" Help..." she uttered, before falling forward onto the floor.
The men shot up from their chairs; all charging over to where she had collapsed. Connor moved first, rolling her over and lifting her head into his lap. Both Murphy and Rocco stood frozen, still in shock. Connor lifted his head to both of them.
" Well do somethin'!"
Rocco moved with a purpose, running over to the shower; he switched on the water, soaking a towel. Murphy remained still, staring at Cait's beaten body. Connor lifted her immobile body on the couch, wiping away the blood and accessed her wounds. As he rolled her over slightly, the men inhaled sharply. Cait's back had been torn to shreds.
Rocco ran his hands though his hair and walked across the room; planting himself at his chair, he ran a hand through his hair again, as if to try and fathom what had just happened. Murphy gnawed on his bottom lip, kicking the wall in frustration; he emitted a low growl from deep within his chest. He turned to Connor.
" gceapann tú go bhfuil sé arís iad?" You think it's them again?
Connor sighed, staring back at his brother, and then to Cait.
"Tá mé ag mothú dona faoi seo." I have'a bad feeling about this.
" Connor! Muid cinnte go bhfuil sé leo Iodálaí diabhal!" We both know it's them damn Italians!
" Aye, ach ní mór dúinn fanacht a chur! .. Cáit Déan cinnte go bhfuil an chéad ceart go leor." Aye, but we have to stay put! .. Make sure Cait is alright first.
" Bhuel?! Cén chaoi a bhfuil sí?" Well?! How is she?
Connor had cleaned Cait up to the best of his ability. The blood still stained her shirt, but not her face. And surprisingly, the camera still hung from her neck, partially broken, but not destroyed. Connor cradled her, carrying her over to Murphy's mattress; then rested a hand on his brother's shoulder.
" Tá sí ag dul ar a deartháir ceart go leor. Is fearr a ligean ina codladh." She's going to be alright brother. Best to let 'er sleep.
Rocco grabbed a fresh beer from the fridge, returning to his chair at the table.
Connor pulled up a chair next to the mattress, slouching and sighing, rubbing his face in his hands.
Murphy grabbed his lighter and smokes and jacket; slamming the door as he exited the loft.
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