(WARNING: Contains detailed violence, crude language, and drug usage. I do not support any of the actions written.)

I jolt awake with tears already forming in my eyes. Sweat covered my pale skin and my loose shirt sticks to me awkwardly. My heart is pounding as I lay back down on the sheets, my mind going a mile a minute.

That dream is the only one I have that wakes me like this. Stressed, confused, and guilty. Every time I have it, the dream gets more realistic. Like I'm living and repeating the most horrible day of my existence. It's the thing that haunts me at night and as much as I want it to go away, some nights I don't. The only thing keeping me from repressing the dream is the image of her. The final glimpse of her in that moment; so relaxed, so peaceful. I just can't and won't let it go.

I shift to my side and looked over at the nightstand. The red numbers indicated that it was five o'clock in the morning. Not bad compared to my other days, I might at well get ready for work. I sighed and stretched out on the bed before getting up and walking into the bathroom.

As I turn on the shower, I strip down and carefully step in. The hot water hits my skin and I tense up, but slowly relax in the warmth. I reach for the shampoo and scrub myself down. The familiar scent of vanilla fills my nose. I smile slightly at the sweet smell, it's always been my favorite shampoo. It reminds me of my mother, the way she always used the scent around the house. I guess it kind of stuck to me after I moved out. I washed the soap away and twisted the handle of the shower. The pipes groaned before shutting off and I stepped out, fetching the towel on the rack. Wrapping it securely around my body, I padded into the bedroom.

There was no worry that someone could've saw me. I live alone and there was defiantly no chance of any roommate peaking. Ive always been the independent type of person. Sometimes it benefits me and sometimes it doesn't. Depends on the situation I guess, especially if your handicap-able like me. Then it's frustrating on how much you have to rely on others.

I slide the wooden closest doors open and scan the clothes until I find my work uniform. A black, buttoned down shirt with a stiff collar and some dress pants to match. There was a red label stitched in neat cursive saying: Le Bellé. The restaurant's name speaks for it's self. Classy, pricey, and snobby.

I struggle buttoning down the collar shirt. It's not easy getting used to the fact that your missing an arm, right one to be exact. The car accident took away multiple things from me, but my hope is not one of them. It also opened a new world for me, where I have to fight to get what I want, what I need; to never give up. So there is a little hope that is buried, but not discovered. I've yet lived the day to find it. I'm pushing through it though, the past four months since the crash, and it's made me realize how weak of an individual I am.

"Happy thoughts." I encourage aloud to myself.

I'm standing in the small bathroom and looking into the mirror. There is evident sleep deprivation in my dull blue eyes, the dark circles I try to concealed from reality are really showing, and my hair doesn't do any exceptional support to my appearance as well. I'm a blonde to be exact, but not the pretty kind I want to be. It's sort of a sandy mud color unlike the bright, shiny color of expectation blonde's. My cheeks are a bit narrow and my nose is rounded and small. My ears stick out from the hair I still have and my tail is the same ugly color of blonde. I have always wanted to be normal like the humans, but I'm actually considered normal where I live. The only reason I don't think myself as that is because of my species. You don't find other people like me very easily.

So I guess I'm... Rare? No, not the right word. Odd? That's a little better.

I slip on my black winter coat and head outside, not forgetting to lock the door of course. The cold wind nipped at my nose and cheeks as I made my way down the stairs of the little apartment complex. The ground was layered with a light morning frost, which froze some of the brown and yellow leaves in place. A huge oak tree that stands strong in the middle of the yard has only a few more left before it's bare like the rest in this chilly town in Michigan.

Why I chose to live in Michigan is a mystery which I've yet to solve for myself. Maybe it's because the close proximity of my parents for reasons, but I hate the cold and the cloudy weather here. It always seems to be a bit dull and gloomy, but I ignore it and go on about my day like any other person.

As I took in my surroundings, a grey Nissan pulled up into the empty parking space. A couple of leaves trailed behind like they were chasing it, but stopped as soon as the car did. I glanced into the window and was greeted with a familiar face.

"Karmine, ya ready?" Beau's voice was calm and collected as usual. He stepped out of the car and gave me a friendly wave. His black hair was pinned back with a navy blue bandana and his cheeks were a tint of pink on his pale skin. The bold lining of his jaw gave him an attractive appearance while the brown color of his eyes reminds me more of a little boy than a man.

I nod in response and he flashes a charming smile, showing his white pointed teeth before getting into the drivers seat. I make my way around to the passenger side and settled into the warmth of the heated space.

Beau switched the car into gear and drove onto the black pavement. It was tattered with cracks and smooth patches, giving it a worn look. The road seems to fit right in place with the small city. High buildings towered and reached unbelievable heights, like they were competing on who could stretch the highest. My compartment wasn't wedged between them though. The rare withering grass surrounded the complex like a protection shield. I was thankful of the dying weed to be there.

"So..." Beau pulled me away from my thoughts. "Are you ok? You seem quitet today."

I look down and fiddle with the loose button of my coat, "When am I ever talkative?"

"I never said that you were talkative, you're just abnormally quiet," Beau gave a smile, "So spill it."

I hesitated to tell him, but he's been my closest friend and I bet he would at least understand, "Well, I've been getting those dreams again. The one's with Silvera."

This made Beau glance at me quickly before returning his sight to the road, "The car crash, huh?"

"Yeah." I sigh, not wanting to drag him into my pity-fest. He knows about the crash and how sensitive I am to the subject, even though it's been roughly five months since then. I just can't let her go.

"Have you told your therapist about them yet?" His facial expression was a mix of worry and sadness. I looked away from him. The feeling of guilt lingered in the small space and my stomach was extremely uncomfortable. Not because I haven't been going to the assigned therapist, but because Beau has to put up with my shit and worry about me. "You haven't been going, have you..."

It's like he read my mind, "I don't need a shrink." I raised my voice ever so slightly to add the tension.

"Karmine, how are you going to get over this phase in your life?" He asks, not raising his at all. "You realize you just go released and they're watching you?"

Before I could answer him, a little voice interrupt me, "Daddy, what's a shrink?"

I whipped my head around, startled for a second before realizing a small boy was there. He resembled mostly from his father, but has his mothers ghostly white eyes and scrunched up nose. His black hair was messily spiked and the look on his face seemed like I scared him with my quick movements.

I gave a smile, "Sorry Lu, you scared me." I say and he returns a shy smile before looking to his father once more.

"A shrink is someone you can talk to and trust. They help people like Karmine." Beau said to his son, though it seems to be aimed at me more than him.

"Isn't it a bit early for him to be up?" I ask Beau, knowing it might be hard for a five year old to be up this early.

"Yeah, but Lucifer decided to chase the babysitter away. He dyed her hair green while she was sleeping and she quit." He huffed, but I couldn't help myself to laugh and feel thankful of the topic change.

"If you think about it, he's pretty intelligent for a five year old." I say, still recovering from the laughter.

Beau only nodded, "I'll give him that."

With that, the rest of the trip was silent besides the radio. It was blaring some type of pop music about love. Love. What a disgraceful thing to make a song out of. They always write about good things, and not the truth, but who am I to blabber on about this? I have never experienced that feeling for another soul and I expect not to. The only love I actually gave was to my parents and my sister. They were the lucky ones that I opened up to and let them in. Of course every child and being loved their parents once before parting away and not giving a shit about them anymore. I was different from the rest, and I still have a healthy relationship with my parents.

"Here we are." Beau interrupts my thoughts.

I look out my window to face the grey building in front of me. My work place wasn't really an eye opener with the dark, shady colors and the mysterious vibe it's releasing. I actually don't mind working here though. It's a good paying job and I'm not going to complain.

I thanked Beau and waved them off. It is nice to have a friend like Beau. When my accident occurred, he was the first volunteer to chaffier me around. Of course I denied his help, but because of the kind of person he is, my decision was invalid. He even offered for me to move in with him, the offer is still there, but I'm doing fine now. The past is behind me. Hell, Beau has a past just as mangled and torn like mine, considering when he dealt with Mary. Thats over now though, and I hope I find peace with my past like he did.

I checked in with the front desk and was assigned to work the counter. Which meant I had bartender duty today. It's not a bad place to be when there's usually nice old people enjoying an outing, but of course there is the night shift. I dread it like every other employee that works at Le Bellé. Just like the dim lighting, the mood quickly changes to an over pricey night club. Wine and other beverages sell quick, and the people aren't very approachable to the staff. It's just another joy I have to deal with.

The bar counter is sleek black with a glass top. Tiny lights point downward, creating a slight glow on the smooth surface. The stools are tall and metal with a leather seating to it, making the classy look seem a bit more modern to a touch.

My fingers lightly slide across the clear surface of the bar as I make my way behind it. I enjoy the wine bar, with it's looks and social status, I think it's the favorable job I prefer here. It's better than wiping the tables or taking out the trash like the lower class I am. No, all I have to really do is serve alcohol to money paying costumers.

The restaurant opens at eight and closes at one in the morning. Luckily it's a Friday and I only work about seven hours, which is pretty laid back considering the amount they pay me. Even with one limb missing, I don't get any special treatment. I actually respect the manager because of that, I don't want to be treated like I'm different. I don't think anyone else would like that.

"Excuse me." A voice pulls me from my wondering. I look up to a young woman. Her hair was long and strait, with a caramel color to it. Her eyes were a strange color of blue and she had tons of mascara on, popping the color out even more. The girl practically looks like a model from the magazines with the black dress that looks a little tight around the waist. "Do you have the brand... Pinetti Notte?"

I nod and turn to the rack of wine. There was at least fifty different types all lined up in diagonal wooden boxes. I searched for the brand she gave me and found four kinds in that name.

"What type of wine?" I asked her. The look on her face seemed confused and unaware. "The color of wine, ma'am."

"Color?" She huffs and starts digging through her purse, clearly frustrated somehow. I stood there awkwardly, wondering if I should ask her what she's doing. The girl had a phone in her hand and dialed a number into it.

"Hey it's me. No, you didn't tell me the what, color?" She looks at me and I confirm it, "Yeah color. What? Are you serious right now? Well if you weren't so mopey, you could've got it yourself. So don't you complain to me." The girl hung up and dropped the phone into her purse. "Pink."

I raised an eyebrow at her and retrieved the wine. Pink wine is the most expensive and extravagant. If she doesn't know about wine, the person on the other line of that phone was probably an expert.

She paid for it and gave a small smile, "Sorry about that, my brother has particular taste right now."

"It seems he does, but I don't think I've ever seen a guy enjoy pink wine." I say, smiling slightly at the thought.

She threw her head back with laughter, "I swear he's gay. But then again, he's a pretty big lady's man."

I chuckle and lean on the counter. What kind of guy drinks pink wine? I mean, if he was gay, then I would've understand. I don't think I'll question it to her. If he likes that type of wine, then let him have it.

"Well, tell your brother it was an... interesting choice." I said.

"I will. Oh, my name is Zoey by the way." She chimed, reaching her hand over the counter.

I shook it, "Karmine."

"Lovely name." She smiles.

I sigh and shake my head. She's lying, I can tell by the way her eyes arch up slightly out of pity. I've always hated the name my parents gave me. I don't have an exact reason behind it, but I just think it's not the right name that fits me. I never grew into it, so what makes them think I will? Karmine Pierson will never be who I really am. So technically the me I want to be, won't ever show. That's life for you.

"Well, I better get back to him. Nice to meet you." She waved and walked off with the wine in hand.

I stand up and watch her leave the restaurant. She was just picking up for somebody, her brother. It seems a little odd to me, but then again I don't know them. I got to learn to respect others business more, it's a bad habit of curiosity I have.

The shift goes by quickly after the encounter. I serve a few people here and there, even start some conversations with the elderly. They're nice, but I always feel that there is a reason for the niceness. Pity maybe, for the poor girl who's got one arm. I can stand them though, it's the people that don't even bother on approaching me is the problem. I'm too different for them apparently. Too... Weird.

I check the time and sigh in relief: it's break time. I slide my coat on and head out the back of the restaurant. There were a few dumpsters and a gate that surrounds them. A few scraps of plastic danced in circles by the gate. The cold was a bit forgiving and only blew for a few moments before disappearing, but it still made my cheeks burn. I was debating to go back in there and steal some wine. It'll at least spice up my break time instead of standing here out in the cold. Then again, I don't really want to lose my job, it's a good one I'm willing to keep.

I was almost scared half to death when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I yanked at the touch and turned around. Her dimples were showing and her brown eyes were lit up with entertainment.

"I scared the shit out of you, didn't I!" She laughed. Her curly brown hair blew sideways as her voice filled the empty alley.

I rolled my eyes and relaxed against the brick wall. This is Victoria Corren, a former co-worker and under the influence friend. She practically drags me everywhere I don't want to be, but I don't complain most of the time. We usually have a few drinks and catch up on gossip. What confuses me is that she is the exact opposite of me, I have no idea of how I even became friends with this girl. She's the type that parties and isn't really socially retarded like me for example. But we get along, most of the time, and I enjoy her company.

"Hey, I didn't mean to." She huffs and pulls out a cigarette, putting it between her lips.

"Would you mind not lighting a cancer stick while I'm around?" I asked, but it came out more like a command than a question. An uneasy feeling twisted in my stomach at the sight of it.

She rolls her eyes and takes it out, stuffing it back into her pocket. "It was just a cigarette, Karmine."

"I guess, but not to me." I said, remembering my mother's problem with them.

I didn't want to keep talking about this, so I changed the subject to something she's fairly fond of. "So how was that new club?"

"Oh!" This got her excited, "It was amazing, you should've went with me. There were some pretty hot guys there and lets just say I didn't leave alone." She smirks and winks at me.

I chuckle lightly, "You've got to stop predatoring on guys, Victoria."

"What? At least I'm enjoying myself, you always act like there's a stick jammed up in your ass." She scoffs.

"I don't," I hesitate, trying to think of the last time I've went out and actually had fun. No luck. "Ok, I guess it's been a while."

She nods and a sly smirk replaces the frown, "Well, how 'bout we get you back into the game this weekend?"

I look down and shrug, "I don't know about all that. I mean, it's been a long time."

"C'mon, it'll be a girls night out like old times." She was practically begging me to join. I mean, I would go if I didn't have better things to do. My self conscious is laughing at me now, that bitch.

I sigh in defeat, "Fine, I'll go."

She squealed and wrapped her arms around me, "I'll text you the address. This is going to be awesome!"

Torture is probably the correct word to use in this situation, my consciousness said. She's a bit angry at this choice, but I actually don't know what I'm feeling about going to a party. I'm defiantly not the type of person to, yet I'm twenty-three. Most people my age are hanging out with their friends and figuring out a stable career. Then here I am, the girl that's still around getting drunk and waking up in strange places. Yup, that's me. I'm curious to see how well this plays out.

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There's a picture of Beau [Bow] on this page for you guys :-) Basically just a concept of what he looks like.