Dependance

Lorna’s eyelids begged to be shut, sleep etching around her eyeballs in a mischievous manner. The blinking lights of a town ahead called to her, and letting out a several second yawn, the girl drove on in search of a place to stay. Her limbs were just calling out for a reasonably comfortable bed to sleep upon. Her backside was numb from staying in the same position for quite a while.

The street lights flashed on the side windows as the car cruised down the street, annoying Lorna’s aggravated orbs even more. A grocery store, an electronics shop, a tattoo parlour, heck even a sex toy shop but not one hotel or even motel!

Pissed off to no end, Lorna pulled into a secluded car park. It felt odd not having her father nagging at her; the silence that attacked her ears over the past few days was shocking. If felt so abnormal, Lorna was not sure if it was good that she was on her own now. But then again, she wasn’t on her own really, there was Vincent. Though he wasn’t very assertive, that was for sure.

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“Hey, um, man, got five dollars?” Came a raspy voice. Vincent opened his eyes, waited for his focus to come and looked out from under the shelter of his hood where he hid. There was a shabby looking man (more than likely homeless) who had his filthy hands pressed to the glass. The male kept quiet, knowing he was unseen from under the hood and pretended to be asleep. He did not want anyone to see his face.

“C’mon man! Wake up!” He shouted, the whiskers of his beard stretching outwards as he did so.

“Hey! Get some God damn manners and don’t wake people - especially for five fucking dollars!” Shouted Lorna, from somewhere to the left of Vincent’s head, obviously not pleased with being awoken.

“Have a bit of sympathy! I’m starving and don’t have anything.” He pleaded, bowing a little as a sign of his lowliness. Lorna scoffed.

“Yeah, but you seemed to have had enough for that bottle of whiskey in your pocket!” She retorted. The guy lifted his right arm slightly to look under his sweaty armpit to his coat pocket, where indeed, a bottle of whiskey wrapped in a brown paper bag was poking out. Grinning in an embarrassed manner, he shuffled away to leave them in peace.

Vincent suddenly felt fingers reach under his hood, almost unnoticeably fluttering against the skin of his forehead -at which he felt his throat contracted to try and make a noise-, and his shelter was torn from him.

Lorna smiled at him (showing her somewhat uneven teeth), and although it was a bright enough smile, the sleepiness in her eyes dulled it.

“Wake-y wake-y.” She said simply in a monotone voice. Looking around nervously as he sat up on his seat, Vincent pulled his hood back up. “Why do you do that? I mean, the whole hiding thing…” Vincent did not answer, but shrugged, hoping to discourage her from the conversation she was steering into. He knew very well why he did it - he had dug himself an insecure, socio-phobic hole and there was no rope ladder for escape.

“You shouldn’t care what other people think, you know.” Vincent remained silent thinking over her words. But people would outcast him if he was different, would they not? He would not fit in. He was not handsome, heck he was not even average looking. Just a freak.

“…Well, I’m going to go get something to eat, I saw a diner last night. You coming?” Lorna asked, now out of the car and leaning in through the window. Vincent shook his head. She sighed. “You want me to bring you back something then?” The man nodded, the way his head did so slowly indicating he was shy about asking. “Anything in particular?” He shook his head again, some of his dark hair spilled from his hood. He sat their solemnly as his only link to the outside world went to fetch breakfast; or lunch if your thinking about the time.

Lorna stood outside the diner, looking down at the bag of bagels and soft drinks, apprehensively. Did he even like this type of stuff? She shook her head and cringed. She was thinking negatively, by assuming he ate different food to everyone else. That was another thing to work on, training her mind to accept others instead of just acting. Looking left then right and making sure there was not any cars coming, the girl crossed - noting a few odd stares from passers by at her unkempt and spiked brown hair and unwashed face. Seeing the alley that lead to the car park, Lorna turned off the street and walked up it, avoiding the fermenting dumpsters. Lorna hoped she did not smell as bad as these bins. As the pathway was just about to break out into the daylight of the car park, a hand rapidly snaked around her neck.

Lorna gasped. She was wrenched from her route and pressed against a wall. It was the scruffy man from before. He did not say anything, only scowl at her as she tried to keep herself as far away from him as possible by pressing into the brick wall behind her. Her matted hair and scalp were scratching at the bricks. A knife was suddenly revealed from his pocket. Lorna screamed. He grinned.

“Seeing as you weren’t willing earlier to give me some change, I’ll guess I’ll just help myself.”

Vincent was staring at the dashboard, equivocating his predicament. How would he cope now? Bo was the one that did odd jobs in other towns to earn their money, and the one to always take care of everything. And somehow he did not think that Lorna could start doing the ‘odd jobs around’ as Bo had.

Abruptly a scream from just over the other side of the car park brought him back to reality and he swivelled his head to search for the source of the sound. His eye landed on the corner of an alley way. A black clad leg was poking out of an alley way. It kicked at the ground in a desperate manner, trying to support itself.. That was Lorna’s leg, and she was obviously being attacked.

A sudden surge ran through his body, flickering from his head and raging down to his toes, but most of all writhing in his ribcage; anger. How dare anyone even consider attacking her! Opening the door of the truck, Vincent paced quickly over to the alley, his head buzzing with the rage he was feeling. Rounding the corner, a horrifying sight met his eye.

Lorna was pressed against a wall, a blade pressed under her jaw line, close to her left ear. It had cut, and crimson liquid flowed down into the black shirt she was wearing. The guy holding her was the same homeless from before. Remembering that Lorna had been angry at him for waking her only served to culminate fury. The man had not noticed him, but Lorna had, and her tear filled eyes were pleading to him.

Vincent lunged forward then slammed the old guy out of the way, stupidly causing the blade to slash across more of Lorna’s neck. Realized his mistake, the male quickly turned to the girl and checked over the wound to make sure it wasn’t fatal: she would live. The breath of relief that Vincent let out was interrupted by a speedy tackle from the hobo - he had clearly assaulted other people beforehand. Shifting his weight violently, Vincent managed to roll and pin the shabby man to the ground. He reached his arm back then delivered a punch to the guys nose, a sickening crack that indicated a broke nose was followed by a flow of a nosebleed.

A hand gently pulled at his shoulder, and Vincent was forced to look up to Lorna’s weary face. Her hair was plastered to her puffed up cheeks, breathing more heavily than normal.

“Come on, let’s go.” She said quietly. Obeying obediently, Vincent stepped up from the ground and began to walk towards the car again, Lorna in tow.

The girl was, for lack of a better word, confused. Was Vincent not meant to be shy? And all of a sudden he was strong and well capable of defending himself and even her. A rush of something warm went through her at the latter thought.

A sudden raspy roar sounded from behind them and they turned. The unkempt man was sprinting for them, the blade shining with grease of his victims in the light as he moved in for the kill. Reacting quickly, Vincent grabbed the guys wrist as he came forward, took the blade with his other, and rapidly turned, jabbing the metal into his ribcage. A shocked face met their eyes, and blood spilled over his teeth and onto the concrete. The homeless fell to the floor in a ‘thump’. His eyes turned from the dirty brown they were before to a dulled muck.

Lorna suddenly gasped, realizing just what had happened; she crumpled to the floor and covered her mouth with her hands. Tears sprang to Lorna’s eyes like a violent geyser. Vincent had killed him.