What If

2. Fishing With No Pole

My hair continued to whip around my face as I kept my eyes straight ahead. My eyes watered and my vision became blurry. Even for the summer, the wind had a chill to it tonight. Most likely because I was standing over water. Being this high up made the winder stronger. I could barely keep my balance even though the cement was wide enough that my feet fit perfectly.

As fast as my tears were falling, the wind was quicker at drying them. Whatever. It didn't matter. This high up, I couldn't keep them out. I couldn't keep...the voices out.

"You're disgusting." 

"Why are you such a disappointment? ""I wish you would just be normal." "Why can't you be like your brothers?""Your father was right about you." "Just go to your room. I don't want to see your face."

"Hide those fucking scars, Lydia. It's gross..."

I didn't bother shaking my head like I usually did when I tried to get the thoughts to disappear. I didn't cover my ears. Nope. I just stood there. I let them remind me of why I was standing here. At this place, this very moment, I let the voices bombard me.

"You're so pathetic." 

"Why don't you just go cut yourself some more? Maybe this time you'll hit a vein." Did you already make yourself throw up today, fatty?

A sob caught in my throat. How did I get here? Fuck that, I knew how I got here. It all started that night. The one night that changed my life forever. It changed me into someone not fit for this world. As the images of the night in question started to invade my mind, I closed my eyes again, and tried to forget...

The sound of screeching tires and the smell of burned rubber startled me so much, I nearly lost my balance. I wobbled and tried to regain my footing. I looked to the source of the sound, praying to God it wasn't a fucking cop. I did not want to spend the next three days in a padded cell being doped up on unnecessary medication. Been there, done that.

The bright lights of the car blinded me, and I raised my hand to shield my eyes. After several moments, a man got out and started walking over to me.

"Stay back," I called out. My heart started pounding even harder against my chest.

He didn't slow down, though. He continued to approach me and it made me anxious. Nervous. When he started closing the distance between us, I could make out his features a little. He was tall, just over six feet. That was about all I could see from here. He stopped next to me in front of the cement wall I was standing on, and looked out at the water with his hands in his pockets.

"Nice night out."

"What?" I snapped.

He looked at me quizzically. "Where's your pole?"

"My pole?" Was this guy mental?

He shrugged. "Seems odd to be out here, fishing with no pole."

"I'm not out here fishing!" I shot back as I tried to keep my whipping hair out of my face.

"Ah. Sightseeing, then?"

Harsh exhale from me. "Okay, strange random guy, I'm not sightseeing and I'm not fishing. I'm a little busy, actually. So, if you don't mind—"

"Because," he interjected, "if you aren't fishing and you aren't sightseeing, then it doesn't leave much to the imagination of what you're doing out here." When he gave me a knowing look, I turned away from him and didn't say a word.