Dependance

Vincent staggered to his home, right hand clutching his bloodied left shoulder where the gash was. There was going to be another scar to add to his collection. If that guy was going to come back, then there was no point staying around anymore - not that there was a reason to stay in the first place… He looked up from the ground to see Lorna standing on the threshold of the front door, wavy hair swaying in the breeze. There was definitely no reason for her to hang around either. She held a worried expression, dark eyebrows slanting in an upside down ‘V’.

“Jesus, what did he do to you?” She asked quietly, shocked at the way he was now hunch-backed and struggling to walk.

Was she…concerned about his welfare? The idea gave Vincent a strange, warm sensation in his ribcage. He remembered that feeling - when his mother had praised him on what a good little boy he was being, and when his father had hugged him and told him he was loved. Instead of coming inside the house, Vincent hobbled around the side of the building. The girl followed. Once she rounded the corner, Lorna saw a lemon yellow truck, and Vincent about to get in it.

“Are you leaving?” She questioned, not liking the idea of having to fend for herself, especially when she was running away from an aggressive alcoholic. Vincent locked gazes with her, regarding the crestfallen tone in her voice and made a motioning gesture with his hand for her to get in. Grinning, the girl took a few steps forward, then faltered, frowning. “Oh, wait a moment! I’ll be right back!”

With that the brown-haired girl sprinted back into the house.

Vincent waited for a few moments. What on Earth was she doing? Bowing his head, he concluded it would be more comfortable on his injuries to wait inside the car. Sitting in the driver’s seat, Vincent let out a long breath of air and closed his eyes, relaxing a little and trying to ignore the immense pain in his back. He could probably be able to drive for approximately three hours, but that was it; he would pass out if he went beyond that. Abruptly the sound of the car door opening made the male jump and pivot his head to the sound. It was Lorna, and she was holding two bags in her hand. She smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry…I was just getting some supplies.” She noted how weary he looked and added: “Do you want me to drive?”

Vincent shook his head ‘no’ and once Lorna got in and shut the car door, he started the vehicle and released the handbrake.

As they begun to drive out of the town Lorna had horrible feeling that her Dad would not give up that easily. How long would this go on for? Until he had deceased and she was in her thirties, no work experience and working in a dead end job, struggling to support herself? Lorna placed her index fingers on her temples, pressing then releasing the pressure over and over whilst keeping her eyes shut. Once she opened them again and she was feeling calmer, Lorna noticed she was on that long stretch of road again. Observing the scenery as it flew past the window, trees of all kinds speeded by - oaks ,elms, ashes and conifers. Where should they go? Lorna did not know her local geography, never mind her national geography; she would not know where she was. Perhaps they could just wonder around aimlessly. But then again, knowing exactly where they were was not really a priority.

Suddenly the car swerved to right. Lorna banged her head on the window and yelped. That was going to leave a bruise. Turning to Vincent, she saw he was asleep. Horrified, the girl leaned over and gripped the black wheel, turning them back on track. There was a strain on her outstretched arms as she was forced to steer from an uncomfortable distance. Mumbling to herself, Lorna scooted over on the seat and tried to nudge Vincent’s foot away from the accelerator with her leg. It took a few moments (and the seventeen year old was cautious to keep checking out the windscreen) but she finally moved it. The truck began to slow to a stop, and Lorna turned it onto the side of the road so they were not in the way of anybody else’s route. Letting out a big sigh, Lorna looked over to Vincent, who looked peaceful in his sleep.

“Crazy bastard should have let me drive…” She muttered to herself. If she tried to move him, it would be in vain, so the only thing to do now was wait for him to wake up - prodding him out of his slumber was out of the question. Lorna knew from experience that waking people sometimes had bad repercussions, and Vincent seemed quite capable of inflicting damage. Peering down at herself, the female was disgusted at how grubby and foul her clothes had turned; her plain green T-shirt was close to black now with dirt and her blue denim shorts were now grey with the amount of dust that cloaked them. In the bags she had brought along with her, she had packed all the food and general necessities in one bag, and a load of clothes in the other -some of them were Vincent’s and some were from another room (an old family member, perhaps?). She felt cheeky for having not asked, and hoped he did not mind when he found out. Clambering into the back seats, Lorna swiftly assured herself that no one was around/looking and began to undress.

Reaching into one of the brown bags, the girl pulled out a black, long-sleeved formal shirt and a pair of black jeans. She pushed her arms through the sleeves and buttoned up the shirt, that was definitely big on her. Then she dragged the jeans up her legs and zipped up the fly. She wondered how Vincent would react to her wearing these clothes. She did feel guilty but she hoped that Vincent would understand her female instinct for hygiene. Lorna stood up to see how they fitted…only to have them fall down to her ankles. Muttering in annoyance, she retrieved a plain brown belt from the bag. Once finished, Lorna climbed back into the passengers seat.

For the next ten minutes, Lorna clicked her nails together, which were uneven and chewed, repeatedly and watched as a whole two cars went past. Even out of the town it seemed deserted.

“Ugh.”

“Ah, your awake I see.” Lorna said humorously. Vincent’s hand went to rub his back as he turned to Lorna with a sleepy quizzical expression.

“You fell asleep at the wheel,” she informed in a chuckle, “you really should have let me drive.” The male turned back to the wheel and his hand went to twist the keys. “Oh no you don’t. Hop it, mister, I’m driving.” Vincent stayed put, and twisted the keys, revving up the engine. Suddenly he felt a poke in his ribs and jolted. He looked to Lorna who was sat there, grinning, and her index finger protruding out of her fist in a threatening manner.

“It might interest you to know that you nearly killed us a while ago, so in the interest of safety I suggest you rest in the passenger’s seat.” The man remained silent for a while then got out of the truck and plodded round the other side. Lorna climbed into the drivers seat and smiled at Vincent as he settled in the passengers side. “Um, I hope you don‘t mind but I borrowed some clothes…Mine were dirty.”

He nodded his head (making the girl feel relieved) and yanked the hood of his trench coat over his head so no one could see his face through the glass; he proceeded by laying back in the chair and closing his eyes. Lorna released the handbrake and pressed her shoe to the accelerator.

About five minutes later, Lorna heard his breathing patterns become regular and a tightening feeling in her bladder. As she drove her mind flung her back to the incident just a while ago. Her dad had come with two daggers and had quite easily -without guilt or hesitation- flung one at the wall above her head and got ready with the next one. Did he intend to harm her, or just scare the shit out of her so she would come home? And then came the most confusing question of all:

Did he want to kill her?

The tightening in her abdomen worsened.

“Uh, wonderful. Time for a pit stop me thinks.” She spoke to herself, pulling over onto the side of the slate road and onto a forest path.

Emerging from the trees and vegetation a couple of minutes later, Lorna was mumbling to herself about ‘how she had lost a few pounds in fluid.’ It was now late evening, and the stars began to twinkle through the veil of night and the canopy of the woods.Over the rustling trees and chirping of crickets, Lorna heard a twig snap. Loudly. The female turned in a deliberately laggard manner to scan the environment behind her. All she regarded was the green and brown of the trees and earth; and the shadows that pranced behind them.He could not be here, could he?Doing a one-hundred-and-eighty degree turn. Lorna picked up the pace and rushed back to the truck.

Once inside the shelter of the vehicle, the brown eyed girl locked the doors and waited for a few moments to tame her pounding heartbeat. After obtaining regulatory breathing patterns, Lorna looked down to Vincent. His face was completely darkened by his hood. Only the top of his nose was visible.

Lorna reached out with her slender fingers and hooked them under the hood. Her skin brushed against his greasy hair and she bit her lip, not wanting to wake him. Forcing back the material, Lorna scrutinized his features.

As always, the first thing to notice was the scars that marred his otherwise handsome face - it reminded Lorna of the villain out of Batman. What was he called again? Oh yes, Two Face. He had some sort of split personality disorder, and was, as quoted, ‘always of two minds about everything.’ Like Vincent. Changing from demur and childlike to powerful and manly. It was a nice contrast.

Lorna’s orbs shifted from one side of his face to the next, noting how his eyelashes rested innocently on his cheek, mischievously hiding away his eye, which the girl had yet to know the colour of.

The way his cheekbone gently sloped down into a strong and prominent chin.

His lips that had a tendency to remain opened a little, and in his sleep, they pouted out in a cute manner.

The proneness that his ebony hair had for waving, almost unnoticeably, every now and then on down it’s length.

Shaking her head hard, Lorna started the car and drove off.

‘This is bad. Very bad.’

Lorna frowned deeply, making lines appear on her forehead.