You have GOT to be kidding me!
Tonight was unlike any other night. Somehow I had managed to get the ugliest, meanist, and most disgusting men in the entire Diner. The current one was appalling me beyond words. His gnarly mustache and unshaven cheeks were dripping in the beer that I had just handed to him. Oil and grease were smeared and caked on his face and hands; I desperately wanted to ask him to wash up before he touched his food. Unknowing of my disgust, or perhaps not caring, he proceeded to pick up his ribs with his grubby hands and ate feverishly. Choking back vomit, I turned abruptly without asking if he needed anything else. Not like I would have given him anything else.
I danced lightly through the growing turbulent crowd in the Diner and past the groping hands of the patrons. I avoided a near fatal collision with black haired Ruth, another server, before nearly getting impaled by a sharp knife that our head cook was cutting with. Working at Bill's Diner, was full of minutely dangers. There was a beat and a flow to the crowd. Its tune was discrete, but easy to be in sync with. Once I learned the beat, I could maneuver through any congested room. All that it took was the proper application of push, speed, and dodging.
Luck seemed to have left me when George, an occasional unwelcomed customer, grabbed my arm. His beady green eyes demanded my attention along with his rock hard grip. His oily smile set a cold and tight chill in my spine.
"Listen, love," he smirked satisfactorily, "I know you have been working hard all day. Why don't you let me take you out on a night on the town? I'm sure you have nothing else better to do than let me… spoil you," he continued growing more obnoxious by each second. My heart seemed to have stopped as a dull and familiar thud broke out in my mind. His buddy next to him grinned at George, conveying some small message that made me very grave on the inside. No good would come of this.
"I'm sorry. But why would I, after a very long and difficult day of work, want to go out with a man who is about the same age as my father, to an ambiguous place in a town where people go missing every day? Do you think I'm stupid as you or something?" My questions surprised both of us and I felt I had nastily smacked the man in the face. George's face immediately reddened, while his friend's grin slid right off of his face. Oh, you idiot!
I saw George begin to rise, but his quick friend caught his arm. George glanced at him furiously before pausing at his friend's dead stare at me. George slowly sat back down before glancing at me with the same face.
"We are gonna wait for as long as it takes." I took both of them in with wide eyes and sent my thanks heaven-ward that Ruth called out my name, excusing me from their silent and not so silent threats.
The rest of the night was spent quickly and painfully conversing with customers. My head felt like it was bleeding and exploding from the inside but I continued my duties with a pained smile on my face. Bill and the rest of the servers stood out of my joyless way, knowing that something had happened that I would not divulge. I never had, and never would confide in them.
The night ended before I knew it. During that time, I had calmed myself and reasoned. Why would they come back? I'm just a girl. They wouldn't do anything, as they had too much beer to remember it anyway. However, what if…?
I couldn't bear to continue worrying. If they did anything, it wouldn't be tonight at least. Sliding my jacket over my arms and shoulders, I took my purse and exited the establishment. The night was dark and everyone else had already left other than Bill. I set off towards my lonely looking Jeep when a soft crunch alerted me from behind.
Spinning around, I caught a glimpse of a gray hooded George and his friend carrying baseball bats next to the door that I had exited. George's jaw was set and his friend continued to grin idiotically at me exposing his rotten yellow teeth. Without another beat or another thought, I turned and took off towards the loud chattering of the boardwalk with the loud yells of the men following right behind me. My Jeep could not have started quick enough to escape these men.
Darting through alleyways, streets, cars, and growing size of the crowd, I found that despite George's beer-belly and old age, he could still gain on me. Maybe I had overestimated myself or maybe I had underestimated him; either way I still pumped my legs as hard as I could while wheezing in my mouth due to the lack of exercise. Though I dodged well, I noticed their luck of not having many people in their path. I was making a path for them!
While my waitressing abilities served me well, they did not save me from my fate. After running for about four blocks and hearing their close footsteps closing in, a large hand pushed me solidly into a tacky yellow plastic table. The side of the table caught me right in the gut, forcing the air out of me while I tripped with the table head first to the gravel sidewalk.
I would like to tell you that from then on I went commando and scary after that behind-the-back move. I would like to tell you that they ran away scared witless from my dragon like fighting prowess. I would also like to tell you that I inspired the nation everywhere that women were creatures to be reckoned with just like men. I can't lie to you though.
My face was crushed and grinded across the asphalt, immediately causing me to scream. Fire like pain sprouted from my lips, cheeks, eyebrow, and forehead. I tried to lift myself up to my feet, but foot kicked me in my stomach. Wind left me as I flew up and hit the ground again. Blood started to drip down my face and George grabbed my neck before throwing me through the glass doors of some random shop.
The pressure of hitting the door bruised my face, but falling on the broken shards of glass elicited another tortured scream. So this is what it felt like to get battered? I cried out while turning over to further stop the glass from slicing through my skin. My eyes opened to see a foot swinging toward my face. I tried to spin away from it, but it still clipped my nose and cheek sending me flipping over face down.
Blood entered my mouth and I spat out the foul liquid. Hands seized my upper arms and I was hauled off the ground roughly. The world swam in front of my dazed eyes, glancing uncarefully at George's flying fist. White burst in my eyesight, and it went dark for a moment but the pain knocked me awake. My face was butchered and bleeding down my neck, wetting my plain black work shirt.
I was lying on the ground limply gazing up at the de-fogging world in front of me. George and his friend were not beating me to a pulp anymore. Their big forms dwarfed a smaller guy seemingly standing up for me. With George and his friend occupied, I conspicuously propped myself up against the counter. I was too weak and in pain to move anywhere else.
"Why don't you go blow each other? We all know that is what you red-neck hillbilly's do every night for fun, other than cow-tipping," the guy suggested with a wry and cocky voice. He apparently had a death wish. "You know what? I think I know why you are needle-dicks. Your mama's were too drunk while getting knocked up to know just who the hell was screwing them."
George's friend snarled before throwing his fist at the young blonde's face. The blonde caught his hand easily and smirked crookedly at the man's belligerent face. The young blonde quickly shoved the man in the chest before ducking George's baseball bat. George's friend unexpectedly flew outside the shattered glass doors, which was a good eight feet. When he recovered, the blonde stranger was ducking and dodging the swinging bat.
After another unsuccessful swing, the stranger grabbed hold of the bat and swung George around as if he weighed nothing, and crashed him into his friend. They toppled on top of each other, but quickly sprang up to charge at the waiting man.
"Come on! Is this it?!!!" He delightfully laughed as he dodged both of them too easily from their lunge. He jumped over their diving bodies to an impressive height and whirled around to see them looking up at him baffled at his remarkable talent. Many in the indiscernible crowd behind clapped and whistled at this feat. I stared dumbly at the growing cockiness of the laughing stranger, whilst he unknowing stopped paying attention to the angry men behind him by bowing to the pleased crowd. The pair took up their bats and quickly moved to the stranger, while swinging in synchrony at his head.
"Duck!" I managed to choke out. Once again, I was not sure if I was seeing properly. The stranger automatically leaned forward while the bats in unison hit both men respectably in the face, knocking them unconscious. The crowd roared in satisfaction and that's when I noticed that the crowd was full of young punks and teenagers. A young girl with sandy blonde hair and dressed scantily in a tight red dress dashed up to the stranger and bathed him in praises.
"OH Paul! I knew you could do it! You saved that girl's life. You are positively the nicest guy ever," she gushed at the glowing stranger while he slung his arm around her shoulders.
"I did what I had to do to help," he replied lazily before glancing at me. The light must have caught his face at the right moment, because he struck me dumb. His hair was teased to a hellish level, sticking up in all directions just like a rocker. He had a small but long nose and laughing eyes paired with a crooked smile permanently plastered on his face. Without the leather, ripped clothes, and jewelry, he had an angelic and joyous face. Simply put, he was a strapping young man.
"You're not going to leave her there, are you?" A kid from the crowd asked. The stranger paused before looking like he wanted to smack the guy in the face. The girl in his company apparently thought that it was also a good idea.
"She's right! You should take her to the hospital. She looks like she still needs you," she glanced at my gashed and damaged form before staring expectantly up at my rescuer. He paused in a moment of indecision, but sighed heavily before turning to me. The girl and my rescuer walked to me before he crouched down to my eye level.
His twinkling blue eyes danced still with mischief, but he himself was resigned to help me instead of hooking up with his babe.
"I can't stand to see this. I'll see you later Paul!" The girl disappeared into the crowd and away from Paul's disbelieving face.
"You don't have to help me," I whispered at him, groaning internally at the ripping it was causing at my lips. Paul glanced back at me before his face broke out into a blinding grin.
"Of course I have to. Look at you! You look like you got skinned alive by the Russian mob or something. Your face is the coolest looking disgusting mess of a thing that I have seen in a long time," he replied brightly. I frowned, but ended up groaning weakly at making my lips bleed more. So that is the first thing that my rescuer say's to me? How funny is it that I survive an attack like this, only to be called that. Great, I'm never going to be able to show my face again without some sort of plastic surgery to correct it.
"Um… thank you?" Paul's grin decidedly became broader.
"You are very welcome Frankenstein. Can I assist you to the hospital, Ms. Trashed Beyond Belief," he asked while still insulting me. I nodded softly, careful as to not move any possible broken bones in my spine or neck. Deftly picking me up bridal style, he cautiously did not touch or move any injured areas and somehow walked without jarring my body.
I was very grateful for him distracting me from the pain. His shirt was indeed curious as it was ripped up stylish in the front, exposing his almost hairless chest and slightly defined body. I stared unabashedly, wondering how he got the courage to pull off such an outfit. The chains swayed and clanked letting me know that we were moving despite that I couldn't feel it.
"See anything you like," he smirked at me in the corner of his eye. If it wasn't for the injuries to my face, I would have flushed. Instead I chose the safer route, I shook my head lightly.
"I'm not into little boys," I shot back before realizing that it slipped out. Horrified, I closed my eyes waiting to land on my bruised back but then I heard a short and gruff laugh. Opening my eyes, Paul was fully dedicating his attention on to me. The scruff on his face was very noticeable, along with the slight makeup lining his eyes.
"You got a mouth girl. Is that why they did this to you?" I nodded again, but Paul was not satisfied. "What did ya do? Call them assholes or somethin'?" I tried to remember what exactly that I had said, but found that I could not recall.
"I don't remember exactly. I just turned one of them down on a date," I whispered to him hoping to make as little movement with my growing swollen mouth. Paul's face pinched, clearly portraying his disgust.
"Those guys are a little old to be hitting on you, don'cha think?" I nodded before letting my eyes drift shut. My little strength was leaving me and sleep sounded very appetizing. Paul wouldn't have any of it.
"Hey Miss-I-Was-Mauled-By-A-Tiger-In-The-Face! You stay awake now. I am missing some good sex so that I can take you to the hospital, you better stay awake. Or I'm dropping you," my eyes snapped open when my body detected the support give way a bit. My grip around him tightened.
"Good sex? You look mediocre, at best," I grumpily snapped while the grin came back to his face. Apparently, sex was one of his favorite subjects.
"What? You're just jealous. I don't blame you though. I am a lot to handle, and to have me carry you must really hurt your inner lusting thoughts," he dramatically claimed. The laugh in his voice, must have brainwashed me because my comfort with him had already past everyone that I had met over the last two years in Santa Carla. Never before had I touched and been this close to another person, and this was only casual conversation between two strangers. He didn't even want to help me at first. He wanted only to make a good impression on another girl. Still, I did not mind that he did not really care for me. His pleasant looks and company kept the pain off my mind.
"I would rather make love to a tree," I responded while trying not to smile with him.
"No, you wouldn't," he knowingly added and I secretly agreed.
"Well, at least that way I wouldn't get any unknown disease that you probably carry," I poked back. Paul stiffened and abruptly stopped walking to glance down at me.
"SHE SAID THAT IT WAS BETWEEN US," Paul whispered disbelievingly at me with a white face. My happiness faded into the seriousness of Paul's eyes. My mouth opened to reply but my voice failed me. What could I say? I sure as hell didn't know!
The moment stood still in time stiffly, before the sides of Paul's lips began to twitch and gradually became a unique cross between a pained smile and a frown. His laugh shook me out of my mortification and into a cross of relief and anger. I could not decide whether or not to hit him or laugh as hard as he was. Paul was clearly around to have a good time and nothing else mattered. It did not matter that he was crying with a crazed laughter in front of a curious and disturbed crowd.
When Paul finally recovered, we had already reached the Santa Clara Penn-Brookes Hospital emergency room door.
"So… maybe I should stay with you until the doctors are done?" He asked me politely and I nodded giving my consent. Paul strode through the doors and into another group of curious on-lookers and placed me carefully on a chair. He walked back to the nurse at the front desk and started speaking rapidly to her, while her eyes strayed to my ruined form. Most of the people in the room tried to discretely check me out, but they did not turn the magazine pages that were in their grasp. Their looks were curious and disgusted by me. Somehow I was reduced to a dissected bug.
"You all can stop staring!" Paul's voice startled everyone in the room, while he sent stern gazes at my on-lookers. Grateful at his intervention, I tried to smile at him but it sent my mind reeling from the pain.
"You okay," he asked as I leaned over in my chair. Vomiting was still a bad idea.
"I tried to smile," I replied breathily. The pain started to overcome me again. My face was in an orchestra of pain and it was playing notes that I could not describe other than to say it felt as if I had burnt or crushed what was left of it.
"Rate the pain," a light and airy voice asked above me. I did not recognize who it was, but I guessed it was a nurse.
"Bad to worse," I replied while trying to keep the nausea down. Paul's hand softly touched my shoulder.
"Relax," Paul told me. "You look like road-kill."
"Well you smell funny," I said while sniffing the air. In reality, he smelt like weed, grease, and some other strong odor that I could not identify.
"At least I still have a face," he shot back at me. He had me there.
"Okay, the doctor can see you now. But first I'm going to give you a shot of morphine. Are you allergic to anything," the nurse questioned. I shook my head and felt a pinch in my shoulder forcing me to cringe. Once done, Paul helped me into the wheelchair and together we followed the nurse through the fluorescent lighted hallways. I ignored my surroundings and focused on Paul. The growing high started to clear my head of the pain. Why was Paul still here?
I must have asked him, because his eyes glimpsed back at my own.
"Like I told you before: you look like a science project gone horribly wrong," he answered cheerily. Apparently, Paul enjoyed teasing. The next moments of walking and rolling were making my head feel funny along with my face. Paul frequently had to smack my hands away from touching my face. I was only curious.
We entered a room and continued to fight over me touching my face. I really wanted to feel it!
"Would you stop that," Paul demanded from me. His disgruntled face was a big change from the usual happiness. I paused, but decided that touching my face was more interesting than listening to him. So I shook my head honestly while he sighed back at me. Out of nowhere, the nurse returned with what looked like straps of death in her hands.
"Restrain her please," the black nurse with red poisonous lips of death told Paul. Before I knew it, and with a little bit of a struggle, Paul and the nurse had safely restraint me. The claws of the straps made me very panicky. My harsh breaths and nervous movement signaled to Paul of my distress.
Paul's hands lightly came across my shoulders and he leaned his face so that we stared at each other. "Calm down," he ordered and my heart beat stopped thumping so harshly. My tight chest also disappeared miraculously. Why did I feel safe, even when I was tied up by two strangers?
"This must be her! Hello, I'm Dr. Stephens and I'm here to…" his voice died off and I glanced up at him from Paul's eye-catching eyes, and noticed his mouth wide open. "Oh… Wow." This is my doctor? Paul silently began to giggle.
"I told you so," he managed to say to me before turning away to laugh quietly. The doctor threw his clipboard at the nurse before pushing Paul away to exam my face. He quickly turned to put on his latex gloves and other contraptions that I had no clue of. When he returned, he had tweezers and he moved to touch my face. This was the time where pain forced me to pass out.
I swallowed. Oh… I'm awake now. My eyes opened very slightly and the bright light made me cringe. Suddenly, I felt straps all around my body, trapping me. I had forgotten where and why I was there. My struggle became violent and panicked.
"Help," I screamed before my lips cracked and I felt the pain return to my mouth along with my blood. Twisting in my binds, I clawed until a felt a rush of wind and the voice of someone familiar.
"Hey! What are you doing there? Not gonna claw until your fingers bleed I hope," a wry voice stilled me. My eyes reopened but the light forced them shut. The pangs of my bruises and in my face brought up my memories.
"Paul?" I asked softly, hoping that I hadn't imagined everything.
"What," he responded and my fears of going insane were shot down.
"Tell her that she needs to calm down if she's going to have this x-ray," a male voice called out.
"Did you hear that?" I nodded and settled into the stiff board of the bed. After a several minutes, I was set free and Paul and I went to the original room.
"How long was I out," I asked with a frown on my gauze-wrapped face covered with a padded mask. I did not realize that it was on until I sat down. I barely felt it at all!
"You screamed bloody murder when he tried to scrap some of the gravel out of your face. After passing out, the good ol' doc fixed up your face and everything. He wanted to take some x-ray's to make sure your head is still intact," Paul lazily added while propping his feet on the chair next to me. This was the part where I swallowed long and hard.
"I can't pay for all of this," I muttered lifting my hands up to my head, covering the eye holes of my fake face. A gruff and short laugh met my ears.
"What are you talking about paying? You are not paying," Paul replied. I lifted my questioning eyes to meet his, but the guy had lit a cigarette. He was smoking in a hospital!
"Are you stupid," I addressed him directly. Paul paused and glanced at me. "Put that out." Paul took another drag while raising his hands in the air in mock surrender. When he dropped the cigarette to the floor, the doctor entered. He paused lightly to smile at me, but sent a glare to a twitching Paul.
"You are very lucky miss. We found no structural damage to your bones in your face. There is a bit of a concussion, but that is light considering the extensive damage to your face," he paused taking in my lack of a reaction. "I'm sure you already know and understand the magnitude of your… situation. The skin on your face has been mostly ripped and ruptured mostly around the cheeks, lips, eyebrows and on the right side of your forehead.
The skin itself is in layers. Your top layer has been destroyed, including the middle layer that usually replaces the top. Luckily, the very bottom layer is pretty much intact. To correct the destroyed flesh, you are going to have to wear that insulation mask to keep bacteria and air from bothering the new flesh that is growing and repairing. I hate to tell you this, but I did the best I could to keep the area clear and smooth. However… you may need cosmetic surgery after the skin is repaired," the doctor concluded while I sat in a stony silence.
"I can give you powerful pain killers to stop the pain that you will be in the coming months, but the mask must stay on until I can give you the green light. You must return to the hospital to keep the bindings clean every week. You cannot clean your face yourself, do you understand?"
I nodded, but felt coming annoyance at returning to this hospital every week for months. Paul seemed to be starting to fall asleep as his eyes were shut. There was nothing more boring than to listen to a doctor.
"Here's the medication. Take one every 5 hours as needed, and I will see you next week." I wanted to fake smile in thanks, but the mask made me only nod.
"Yay! We're done, so let's go," Paul popped up unexpectedly from his chair and yanked me out the door. I had to rush to keep up with his quick pace. Once outside, I noticed the light sky.
"What's the time," I pondered aloud.
"About 6 in the morning. Do you want a ride," he asked me in front of a dirt bike, which I assumed was his. I knew know nothing of bikes or cars.
"To my car at Bill's Diner, please." The next few minutes were spent me trying to hold on to him while keeping my eyes shut, so as to not get sick at the extremely fast pace that Paul was keeping. I did not ask why he rushed. I was only happy that he had helped me for this long.
Stopping in front of my Jeep, Paul turned to me with a grin on his face.
"Will you be able to make it from here," he questioned me and I nodded while gingerly getting off of his bike.
"Thank you so much for helping. I really-"
"Don't worry about it. If you want to pay me back, tell me your name," he asserted. I did not expect this as a reply.
"Ana," I simply said. This time I received a true smile, one that was not crooked.
"See you 'round Ana!" He gunned it past me and down the street leaving me once again alone.
If you want me to feel appreciated as a writer or you feel like I need some feedback (which I do) then please review. Suggestions on the storyline may influence me. Thanks for reading!