Page 35 of Shade
Sothat’swhy he was crying earlier. For her. For his friend.
I can’timaginewhat he must be going through, and then again, Ican.
Remember when you looked around my room and didn’t see any pictures? I have one. It’s by my nightstand. Do you see it? It’s one of an old, mean lady who’s long since lost her mind, but she’s still my only family around. That’s Grandma Selma. She’s in a nursing home and thinks I’m a neighbor’s kid who comes to visit her.
Where’s the rest of my family?
Mom left. Having been declined my grandfather’s life insurance money, Mom up and moved to Vegas the moment my he died. Didn’t matter that she had a seventeen-year-old distraught and troubled daughter here, still, or a mother in a nursing home. She just said, “fuck it, I’m out,” and left town.
Goes to show you the type of upbringing I’ve had, doesn’t it? Raised by a douche bag of a mother, I consider myself lucky I didn’t turn out like her.
You’re wondering about my dad now, aren’t you? Yeah, me too.
Hartley Henderson.
What can I say about him other than the fact that he was merely a sperm donor and I’m a spitting image of him in the face? I’ve actually never even met him. I heard he’s some kind of leader of some biker gang. Don’t know, don’t care.
If it goes to show you how much I care, I didn’t even keep his last name. I legally changed my last name to my middle name. Besides, Scarlet Rose sounds cooler and if he wasn’t man enough to stick around, I sure as shit wasn’t keeping his last name.
Remember when I said I could pass a test on Shade? Well, I can, and because of this, I know he doesn’t have a family either. His mom left when he was a year old and his dad died when he was four. From what I’ve read, his brothers and uncle are his only family, and he’d do anything for them. You can tell he’s a loyal friend and brother.
I bet he was a loyal friend to Rhya, too. So why’d she do it?
Maybe for the same reasons Asher did.
I know what you’re thinking. Girl like me, I’ve never been in love. You think that, don’t you?
Well, if you do, I’d smile at you and say, honey, you couldn’t be more wrong. I’ve had my heart shattered into a million pieces.
Rolling over onto my stomach, I prop myself up on my elbows and stare down at my phone and the photograph of the troubled boy who taught me about love and exactly how to destroy it too.
Remember the name Asher Brandon? I said I’d get back to him. Are you still wondering who he is?
Well. . . there once was a man from Nantucket. I’m just kidding. But there once was a boy from Georgia who somehow found his way to Seattle and me.
I met him when I was fifteen outside a tattoo parlor on Capitol Hill. Being fifteen, I thought, shit, he’s perfect for rebelling. I had no idea Asher was as troubled as he was until it was too late.
Asher? He was eighteen, and I thought he was the coolest, pierced, tattooed motherfucker I’d ever met. He hated everyone. Except me for some reason.
Our unhealthy romance of me hanging out in a tattoo parlor and letting Asher pierce my nipples, belly button and eventually my clit, went on for two years. One night, Fourth of July to be exact, I walked out of the tattoo parlor, knowing damn well if I didn’t I’d end up in a situation like my best friend at the time, Felicia, who was pregnant and addicted to meth at seventeen.
Not only was I not going to bethat girl, but I didn’t care for meth and valued my dental hygiene. I also didn’t feel like auditioning forTeen Mom. I could barely keep myself alive let alone another human being.
Asher and me, it wasn’t healthy. I couldn’t even talk to another guy without him freaking out on me and threatening, and almost succeeding at killing a man for touching me. That wasn’t why I broke up with him though. I dig the possessive fuckers like any other girl who wants to feel wanted but Asher, don’t let the southern Georgia boy fool you. He was a sadistic homicidal disaster. I broke up with him because he didn’t know where possessive ended and disturbed began. He carved my name into his chest with a fucking razor blade. Are your eyes wide? Do you get it now? No? Okay, well, I draw the line at carving in blood.
It was weeks later when I finally had the courage to break it off with him. Keep in mind I was seventeen at the time and nowhere close to mature. So I said something along the lines of, “Don’t call me ever again,” and honestly thought he wouldn’t. Well, he didn’t. That night, the same night I broke up with him, he left my world permanently and just as harshly as I left him.
No explanation.
No closure.
Maybe that was his intention all along. Maybe it was his payback for breaking up with him. I’ll never know, but at some point, I knew I didn’t need to know. I don’t think Asher ever wanted to end his life. He wanted to end the unexplained rage and pain inside of him. The same rage and pain that had pushed me away from him, took his life from him.
I don’t know Rhya or anything about her for that matter, or how or what led up to this, but I imagine maybe she felt the same way Asher had. Maybe she was sick and no one saw it coming.
I do know how Shade feels though. Iknowthat paralyzing pain.
