Tattoos and Scars | Completed, Unedited

2 | Under The Hard Exterior

TRIGGER WARNING: flashbacks of sexual assault

I place my phone in my bag, and grip it tightly, when I leave the house. The eerie morning fog is now clearing out, but the sky is still cloudy and dark. It seemed to have been raining because the air has that kind of musty scent to it.

I've been across this street so many times. Then why am I scared to cross it alone now? My stomach still hurts like hell, but I'd rather be at work than at home.

Calm down, it's just a crosswalk, I tell myself, as I wait for the sign to say go.

When it's safe to cross, I make my way across as fast as I can. Considering that it hurts to walk. My eyes scan the sidewalk, analyzing any danger there might be. Anyone who might be dangerous.

But everyone seems scary.

The restaurant which I work in is just down this block. If I make it there, then I'll be safe. I hurry towards the building, but no matter how fast I'm walking, it still seems miles away. Everywhere I look, I see someone who might potentially harm me. Every shadow seems to creep up on me... seems to be trying to grab me.

I'm alone, and dangers seem many. I try to hold back tears. I have to be strong.

But how can I be strong, when those four men showed me how weak I really was. I tried to scream, but my mouth wouldn't make a sound. I tried to kick, but my legs had stopped working. It was almost as if I let them take advantage of me.

It was my fault that they got close to me. No one is to blame but me.

I finally reach the building, and my trembling arms reach for the door. "Bailey!" My boss exclaims, and I nearly jump out of my skin. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

I give her a weak smile, as I go grab my 'uniform' which is an apron with the restaurant's name on it.

"I've got your breakfast on the table. Eat up, we're opening in twenty minutes." I give her a shaky nod, and go take a seat at the table. But my appetite seems to have flown out the window. I just sit there, picking at my food with my trembling hands. My legs start bouncing, and I start cracking my knuckles.

I'm usually so composed.

But nothing lasts forever. I used to be brave, and now I'm not. What's left of me is just a nervous wreck, and I can't seem to pick myself up. I don't think I'll ever find myself again, and that makes me want to cry.

But there's nothing. Nothing but fear, and the memories of last night.

Four drunk men, with cigarettes in their mouths. They knock on my door.

And I open it... what a stupid mistake that was.

"Sweetie?" My boss, Mrs. Sherman starts. "Are you sure you're up to work today. I've never seen you so... messy?"

"Oh. No, I can do it," I manage to say.

"Are you okay?" She asks, giving me her concerned look. Am I really that much of a mess?

"Y-yeah," I tell her, keeping the words to a minimum. I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown, and the more she cares about me, the harder I'll cry.

"You can work in the kitchen today, I'll have Gabby take orders," She says, giving me a warm smile. People like her are rare in my life. She might as well be the only one who gives a fuck about me.

"Thank you." I maintain a distance from her as if she would hurt me. I'm never scared, or at least until now. I just want to return to the old Bailey. The one who could face entire storms on her own. Or at least, she thought she could.

But she couldn't, and she was a fool to think she was anything more than the weak girl she is. A girl who can't protect herself. A broken girl, who has no one to blame but herself.

My food hasn't been touched. But I have to eat something, so I take a bite of the pancakes she made for me.

Then I take another bite. Bite by bite, I finish the food, and take the plate back into the kitchen so I can wash it and get ready to cook. My blonde hair is still a mess, and my jaw still aches. My stomach still hurts, and my skin still burns.

My trembling hands reach for the pan in which I'll have to make a pancake on. I get on with mixing up the batter, and getting it ready so that when someone orders it, I'll just have to pour the batter on the pan.

I break an egg, and pour in the flour. Then I mix the batter while I pour in some water.

"First order!" Gabby yells, and my heart almost comes to my mouth. "I'm sorry Bailey. I didn't mean to scare you. Here," She hands me the piece of paper with the order on it. My hands start trembling more, but I take the piece of paper, and give her a weak smile.

A plate of pancakes (blueberries and bananas on the side)

A strawberry milkshake

I start working on the order. I pour the batter onto the pan, and start making the milkshake. It really hurts to walk, but I'm not going to be sent home. I hate it there.

I flip the pancake, and pour the milkshake into a glass. After I'm done with three pancakes, place a few blueberries and banana slices on the side. I head towards the window, with my aching legs, and ring the bell informing them that the order is ready.

Gabby's out taking another order.

"Can you deliver that one? Thanks!"

There's no way I can go out there. "Uh, I can't.... I have to flip pancakes."

"But I'm busy, there are like five more customers. Please?"

"Okay," I reply, because I don't have the energy to argue with her right now. I walk out of the kitchen with my tray in hand. Table 5.

There's a guy sitting in that table, looking at his phone. My breath trembles as I place the tray on his table, and turn around to make my way back to the kitchen as fast as possible.

"Excuse me!" He yells from behind me. I think I stopped breathing for a second. "Can I get a napkin?"

I want to tell him that they're over there, but I don't want to talk. So I just nod, and walk over to the napkin dispenser and grab him a few. With my trembling hands and weak legs, I make my way back to the table, and hand him the napkins.

"Thanks," He says, and I just nod. "Are you cold?" He must have noticed my shaking hands. I quickly shake my head and head back to the kitchen.

The old Bailey wouldn't have been scared to go give a guy his food. She wouldn't have agreed to hide in the kitchen all day.

She wouldn't tremble. She wouldn't jump at every sound she heard.

But I guess under that hard exterior, this was who I really was. And last night really showed it to me.

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my poor baby. (sorry for these one word author notes, i've already written these chapters before).

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