9 | The Darkness

My feet slam against the pavement as I jog down the narrow pathway. The fiery yellow ball dips behind the solid grey buildings as I pass through the small town. The stench of litter lingers in the frosty air as I pass by the darker side of town.

I wanted to leave, but I couldn't bring myself to packing my belongings. Despite this gloomy town seconds away from imploding, I couldn't leave Scarlett. She's like a dark vortex sucking me closer because there's something alluring about a mystery.

A beat up Ute skids down the middle of the road defying the middle line. I pull my hoodie over my head and keep close to the building. I'm almost back to the safety.

I take a breath of relief when I walk into the lobby. Scarlett is seated behind her desk with the horrible wallpapering pealing. Even the wallpaper doesn't want to be here. The worst part? This place is beginning to feel familiar.

There's a loud grunt and then Scarlett bangs her head against the desk. The thump rings through the room and makes me wince. That must hurt.

"Are you having a rough day?" I chuckle.

Scarlett slowly pushes herself up and flops into the back of the swivel chair. She covers her mouth to yawn.

"Something like that," Scar mumbles in reply.

"I'd suggest a night drink but." I point to my face. "That wouldn't be a good idea."

"No, that wouldn't be." She laughs. "Do you want some more peas?"

"That would be good, thank you." I tug on a smile that instantly leaves my lip stinging.

Scarlett rushes in the direction of the kitchen and soon returns with a packet of peas. I gratefully take the cold compress and place it against my swollen face.

"Cheers."

"I um, I should get back to work." She points to the desk behind her.

"It's getting late." I frown. "So good luck!"

Heading for the stairs, I tackle them by two and follow the pathway to my room. I strip out of my clothes and step into the shower.

The water pelts down the streamline of my back. I rest my arm against the tiles and take a deep breath. I should probably do something. Grabbing the soap, I begin washing away the events of today.

After the shower, I flop onto bed dressed in a pair of briefs. The golden lamp sheds an ample amount of light. I stare at the ceiling and sigh with discontent. I wish I had a book.

There's a dainty knock against the door which captures my attention. It must be Scarlett.

I jump up from the bed and zoom towards the door.

"Hi Scarlett," I answer.

Her gaze is cast to the floor as she nervously fidgets with her fingers, "Can I spend the night with you?"

My heart almost leaps out of my chest. Scarlett wants to spend the night with me? I look towards the single bed and frown. I don't think is a good idea.

"What's wrong?" I ask. "Did something happen?"

"I'm just . . . I'm afraid," she admits.

"Of course, but-"

Scarlett dangles a key from her finger, "There's a room down the hall with two beds."

"Okay, let me turn the light off." I turn the light off and lock the door behind me.

I follow her down the hall and into the new room. The small space has two beds pressed against a wood paneled wall with matching green bedding. She climbs into the far right one and I take the opposite.

Scarlett turns the light off and we lay in silence. Now that I'm consumed by the darkness and the thought of Scarlett, I wonder. Did he hit her?

I would never have the courage to ask her this question face to face, so I utilise this moment.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Depends," she replies.

"What happened with your father?"

"Nothing." Scarlett tries to dismiss.

"He doesn't seem like a nothing, in fact, he said you owe him money," I explain.

We lay in silence until Scarlett scoffs in disgust, "Of course he said that."

I roll onto my side and bring the sheet under my chin. The bed isn't comfortable, but I'm intrigued.

"What else did he say?" Scar questions. "That I wanted it? That I deserved it?" Her pain soaked voice stirs an uneasy feeling in my gut.

"I don't know what happened, but you don't deserve it. Nobody does."

"You don't know what happened," she quickly says.

"Let me guess." I laugh. "I'll never know?" That's the thing with mysteries. Sometimes they're just mysteries.

"You wouldn't understand. Things are different this side of town."

"I don't understand because you won't tell me." I groan. I want to understand the inner workings of her mind. I want to know what haunts her thoughts.

"You wouldn't be here if I told you. Last time I checked, I actually need you."

"One day you'll tell me." Because I need you too.

"Maybe." Scarlett stifles a yawn. "What about you, Pierce Davenport, what are your secrets?"

"I don't have dark secrets unless you count the time I stole my mother's wine and snuck out of the house?" I ask.

"Wait, how much did the wine cost?"

"Eighty dollars."

"So bad, Mr. Davenport, so bad." Scarlett laughs.

"I just have an incurable desire to find happiness. It feels like I've been living in the shadows for years," I admit.

"Happiness is . . . Well, it sucks." Scarlett huffs.

"But the best people are broken?" I offer.

"Everybody is fucking broken, they never want to admit it." She sarcastically laughs.

"We hide from our feelings because we're afraid to get hurt," I chirp in.

"I heard bubble wrap helps with the fall, but it doesn't cover your bruises, and neither does the makeup."

Our conversation comes to a haul. The darkness consuming us once more.

"He beat you, didn't he?"

"Yes," Scarlett whispers.

There's a shuffle and then I hear a sniffle. I don't know if I should comfort her, so I linger on the cusp of the bed and wait for a sign.

"Are you okay, Scarlett?"

"I'm fine, goodnight."

"Goodnight then," I whisper.

They say that broken things allow the light to shine through, but when I look at Scarlett, all I see is darkness and her fiery red hair.

Do you have deep dark secrets too? Any thoughts on Scarlett?