Day 59

Chicago

I awoke with a start and something was not right.

Something cold was pressing against my temple, it felt like cold steel. I opened my eyes to find a wild-eyed and half-naked Mindy staring down at me; she held a pistol to my head.

"What the fuck are you doing in my fucking room, asshole?" She growled, dangerously.

"You were shot, so I carried you up here," I explained, calmly.

"Are you fucking deaf or just an idiot?" Mindy growled, more dangerously. "Did you not hear me, the other fucking night? I don't need your fucking help, cunt!"

Now Mindy had gone too fucking far! I pushed the gun away from my head and I stared up at her.

"Get that gun away from my fucking head, girl! You want to fucking shoot me, then go ahead if you've got the guts, otherwise fucking shut up and listen!" I snarled, viciously, at Mindy, who took a step back and she looked like I had just slapped her.

She did not say anything, but she did lower the gun.

"Mindy, you are a fifteen-year-old girl, but you're fucking behaving like a fucking twelve-year-old! It is time to grow the fuck up! I am fucking sorry that I caused you to leave New York! I am fucking sorry that I had a hand in your Daddy dying! I'm fucking sorry for caring about a fucking little bitch, like you!" I yelled at her.

Mindy dropped the gun to the floor and she backed away from me; she was shaking. I stood up and took a step towards her but Mindy flinched away from me.

"But I am not fucking sorry for coming back here, last night to give you another chance to come to your fucking senses!" I roared, almost directly into her face. "I am fucking overjoyed that I was here last night, because a stupid little girl got herself fucking shot! Didn't you, Mindy?"

I turned around and grabbed something from my pack.

"You, Mindy are making mistake after fucking mistake. Mistakes this girl would never have fucking made!" I yelled and I threw the top of Mindy's Hit Girl costume at her.

She flinched again; just as if I had just thrown a knife at her.

"I'm also overjoyed that I was able to clean up your wound and make sure that you were safe! However, . . . I don't know you anymore. You are not the Hit Girl or even the Mindy Macready that I once knew and loved, yes loved. I'm sorry for getting in your fucking way; you can go back to being a heartless, psychotic, bitch!" I continued, without any emotion in my voice.

I turned, picked up my pack and I started to pull back the blinds.

I was out of there.

It was over.

"Dave – please – don't go . . . I . . ." I tried, before I broke down and I started to sob as I sank to my knees.

I couldn't stop shaking; every word that Dave had uttered had hit me like a knife, I had felt every word and I fucking deserved every word.

My chest hurt; I was starting to feel light-headed and I felt something running down my right side. I touched my side with my left hand and as I pulled it away and looked at it, I saw that my hand had come away red. Dave grabbed hold of me and laid he me down on the bed, none too gently.

"You, stupid bitch, you've opened the damn wound back up!" Dave snarled as he ripped the bandage off.

I screamed, as he wiped the wound, very roughly, with antiseptic, then he covered the wound with gauze and wrapped the bandage back around me. I still held my Hit Girl costume in my left hand and I brought it up to my face, so I could look at it. Dave was right; Hit Girl would not have made all of those fucking mistakes and, yes, it was time for me to fucking grow up; I was going to be sixteen in two weeks, for God's sake. Yes, I had fucked up the previous night and managed to get myself shot. If Dave had not been there for me . . . then I would have bled out and I would probably be very dead right now.

I owed Dave, again; he had saved my life and he was about to do it again. I fucking hated being a teenager, it sucked big time. I had never seen Dave get so mad before and he scared me; I could hardly believe that I was scared of him, but I was fucking scared of him right at that moment.

"Well, Mindy! What the fuck is it going to be?" I snarled, nastily, looking down at her.

I was really wound up now; I was raging. Mindy was trying to force her way down through the bed, away from me. What was that in her eyes? Fear? What the fuck?

I thought that I might have finally got through to the real Mindy Macready, not Hit Girl or that fucking freak from the other night. Before me was the real, fifteen-year-old girl underneath; the girl who had climbed through my window on the night of the 'date-ditch'.

My rage started to die as I sat down on the bed, grabbed her hand and held it tightly.

"Look, Mindy. I didn't come all this way to hurt you or to yell at you. I just wanted you back, I need you and I've really missed you," I explained, quietly.

Mindy stopped crying and she sat up, grimacing with pain.

"I'm really sorry, Dave. I've been a complete bitch to you and I don't know how I can ever make it up to you. I know that I've made some whopping mistakes since I left New York and thanks, thanks for saving my life, again. I'm really, really glad you've been in my life, Dave. I could never have got by my Daddy dying or my other problems, since, without your help. Please forgive me. Please forgive me for everything I said to you the other night – I was being childish and stupid," Mindy said, looking very ashamed.

I hugged her, tightly. She dropped the Hit Girl costume, wrapped her left arm around me, and she held on tight. I could feel her jerk as she started to sob again, into my shoulder.

I had my Mindy back, now.

I had found her, finally.

I thought that there would still be an uphill struggle, but I would be there with her, all the way.

Author's Note: Okay! I have been persuaded to continue this story. Let's see where it goes...

Updated: September 2017