Clutching a handkerchief to her chest, Rita Larkin looked out the window for any sign of her niece.
"Roger! It's getting too late! We have to go look for her!"
The recovering alcoholic, sighed.
"Rita, darling, she's probably walking home as we speak"
The worried middle aged woman, turned around and glared at her poor excuse of a husband.
"I swear Roger! If something happens to her because you were too lazy to get up from that damn chair, I will smash every single one of your precious little bottles into a million little pieces!"
Standing up, in order to defend his manhood, Roger Larkin, slammed a hand against the scratched up table.
"You do have my bottles! Rita, you give them to me right now!"
The tall, but plump woman, hugging her shawl closer to her pushed out chest. Looked to the side as she answered.
"You bring me my niece, I give you your bottles"
Grumbling about this and that, Roger Larkin, grabbed his jacket from where it hung and slammed the door behind him. He better find his niece quick, his bottles where on the verge of extinction.
Poor, poor little bird. So fragile and damaged. No one should hurt little bluebirds like that. Yes, she was his bluebird.
The girl was too shocked and weak from fear to fight him, he pulled her along the street. They weren't that far from his dwellings. They met no one on the way, he would have had to kill them. What if they wanted to take his bluebird away?
As soon as he laid her down on his bed, her pretty little blue eyes shut. He had bandaged her abdomen. That awful man had not only cut her but there was an ugly purple bruise on her pale neck.
His little bird, had a wild mess of brown curls that went down to her mid back. She was such a lovely creature. With lovely red lips. Lips that had also been damaged. The bottom one had been split. But how? He would have to ask when she woke.
His window was open, fresh air would help her recover. He was thinking of keeping his little bird here forever but what if she wasn't adequate?
Sure, her physical attributes pleased him but what if she didn't understand what he did. What if she rejected him? How old was she anyways? She couldn't be more then sixteen. That was too young.
His mother would never allow him to bring someone ten years younger than him too meet her.
He would just have to heal her and let her go. Just like the bird she was.
When I woke up, my whole torso stung and I realized that something was wrong and that's when the memories returned.
I had to close my eyes to contain my emotions. Standing, I noticed that I was no longer in my dress, but in a grey dressing gown. It smelled like lilacs and lavender.
The room was wide and spacious. A wide French window, was opposite from me, beside it an enormous brown and ornate wardrobe covered the western wall. A small writing desk was in the other corner, it didn't appear as it had been used. The carpet had a light green color. It felt soft and plush beneath my bare feet.
The man who had…who saved me must have brought me to his home. I only remembered walking through the streets and then approaching a brown door. Everything else was merged together in a blur of cobblestones, a red carpet, and a fire.
What was I supposed to do? I couldn't just stay here my aunt was probably dying with worry.
"You've woken! How wonderful"
I jumped out of my skin and snapped my head towards the direction of the voice.
A man in his mid-twenties stood at the doorway. He had a basin in his hands. He was dressed in a black suit, his white shirt was pressed, void of any wrinkles. His eyes were a sharp emerald color, his raven hair was slicked back.
I pulled the robe I had on closer to my body.
"You must be rather frightened, but that's to be expected" he set the basin down on the writing desk "there's nothing to be afraid of, I assure you"
"What happened? Where am I?" My voice was an octave higher and my fingers shook.
"Don't fear me little bird I just want to help"
Little Bird?
"I saved you from that man, remember? You were hurt so I brought you here"
I nodded "Thank you but I really need to get home my Aunt is probably sick with worry, I have a job and…I…I really need to get home"
"That's understandable but you can't go out like that, little bird. I'll bring you some clothes and then we can have breakfast. Afterwards, will go to your family"
"All right, Thank you"
I wasn't very pleased with my situation. I had to get out of here as quick as possible but I just couldn't waltz around Brooklyn in a bathrobe.
"I'll be right back"
My breathing relaxed when he left the room. He was unnerving, and what was with calling me little bird?
I wringed my hands and looked around the room, while I waited. He had money that much was obvious. Beside me, there was a brown dresser with a larger mirror hanging above it that I hadn't noticed before. It was covered by little gold and porcelain figurines. Most of them were little ballerinas or Victorian ladies.
The door clicked open "Here's some of my wife's clothes. She doesn't need them anymore. I'm sure they will fit you"
He left as quickly as he arrived. Had his wife died? He said she didn't need them anymore. I wasn't very comfortable wearing a dead woman's clothes but if I remembered correctly my dress was ripped and stained with blood.
Walking to the other side of the bed, I picked up the garment. It was an expensive piece, you could tell from the way it felt. Making sure the door was locked, I slipped the bathrobe off and pulled on the costly purple dress.
My torso stung as I moved, reminding me of what had happened.
"Don't move. It will make it worse"
I choked back tears as he took out a knife. I was not going to cry.
He lifted his head from my neck and showed me his knife, with a chuckle he took the tip of it and dug it into my collarbone. I whimpered as he dragged it down my exposed chest.
I shook the memory away and continued buttoning the dress. On the bed I also found some silk stockings, I slipped them over my quivering legs. My shoes were on the floor. They were dirty and out of place with the whole room. Walking through the door, I tied my hair into a pony tail with loose ribbon I found in the dress pocket.
The room smelled like coffee, it was a joint kitchen and living room. The walls were painted red with gold swirls. Just like the bedroom, everything looked lavish and ornate.
He was cooking, the man who saved me. If I wanted to, I could slip out right now and he would be none the wiser but I was starving and he did after all, kill someone for me.
So I stood there and waited for him to turn around.
Eventually he did. We sat and had an awkward breakfast. He asked what had happened to my lip, I told him I bit it to keep myself from crying, he nodded and began to ask more questions. What my name was, my age, things about my family. I told him how my parents had died in a fire, he dropped his spoon when I said that. It clattered against the fancy plate and that was the last sound we made in that room until we finished our food.
I nearly cried with joy when I saw my apartment building. Picking up my pace, I pushed past the crowd. The man followed, I had asked his name but he said just to call him sir and then he changed the subject.
Opening the apartment door, I bumped into the building manager. I hugged him, and he simply patted my back and told me my Aunt was going to die with worry if I didn't run up those stairs.
I don't think I had ever gone up those stairs as fast as I did. Turning the rusty knob, I ran into my home.
Aunt Rita was sniffling into her handkerchief. Her salt and pepper hair was a mess. Her eyes were red and blotchy. She stood when she saw me, Aunt Rita embraced me in her arms and wept and kissed my head. We hugged each other for an eternity, I reassured her I was fine and that nothing happened, she didn't need to know everything.
Her tears fell on my hair.
"Oh Violet, I was so worried! You didn't return and I sent your uncle out and he didn't find you and then the newspaper of the dead man I just got so scared!"
The dead man. Did he really need to die? He deserved it but in that way? I pushed the thought out of my head. I never wanted to think about that moment ever again.