I’d truly never been so pissed off in my entire life. The fleeing had come just in time to catch the clouds releasing their heavy loads right on top of my head. I was soon drenched and shivering, my arms tightly wrapped around myself as I tried to retain what little warmth I could. Miserable, soaking wet, and mad enough that I could have punched somebody- you could say I was having a bad day.

At least it wasn’t far to the bus stop. I could take a little bit of pleasure in that, and even more when I was safely under the tin roof that covered the tiny bench that was installed for people waiting for the bus. In recent times, my little bus stop had become deserted. It was mostly because my glare scared people away, as the only transportation I had was the bus, and I hated when people got close. So I was alone when I sat down to wait.

The bus driver gave me a wary look when he stopped. He knew me, and he knew I’d caused problems before. His expression quickly softened. I must have looked terrible for the rigid man to have that pitying look in his eyes.

It only pissed me off more. I didn’t need his pity, didn’t even deserve it. I let my head droop so he wouldn’t see the anger in my eyes as I trudged to the back of the bus to find a seat.

It was a long bus ride to the outskirts of town. Resting my head against the window, I watched the rain drenched city pass by. All those metal and glass buildings, huddled together like they felt as terrible as I did. I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better, or if it made me want to shoot myself. Maybe it was a little of both.

Finally, the bus was past the crowded downtown area of the city, and I watched the houses get bigger, the yards growing and getting greener. That part of townn was where the rich generally lived. Technically, I could have picked any one of those houses and lived on my own.

Just the thought of it had left me feeling empty. I may not like to touch people, or be near them- I might not like people at all- but being so completely isolated would have driven me insane.

“The usual, Joe?” the bus driver called back.

I raised my hand, giving him the thumbs up signal. I had taken the bus only a few times, but the man knew exactly where I was going, because it was the only place I ever went. He pulled down the last street, Hawthorn, and we were driving past the most luxurious houses in the city. There wasn’t a bus stop on the street. Those people with their glamorous cars didn’t need buses. He stopped for me anyways, pulling up right in front of the house I needed.

“Take it easy, Joe.”

His soft farewell followed me out the door. Usually I would have turned and tried to smile at him, to be polite, but I couldn’t stomach it that time. I just waved and kept walking.

The rain hadn’t slowed down. In fact, I was pretty sure it was raining harder, and I shivered more for my brief reprieve in the heated bus. My bare feet weren’t helping anything, or the rocks on the rough sidewalk that tore at them. I wouldn’t be surprised if I bled on the sidewalk. What would surprise me, would be if I actually started to care.

I trudged up the driveway of the house the bus had stopped in front of it. It was beautiful, wood and glass and a huge room at the front that was all windows. For a second, I worried that the person I was looking for wasn’t home. Her car was gone, and the front light was on. My heart squeezed in my chest at the thought of having the sit on her doormat until she came home. Then I saw a flicker of movement in the windows, a flash of auburn hair, and a horrified face staring out at me.

I stopped where I was, and our gazes met. Elizabeth’s eyes went wide behind the glass, and she disappeared. My heart did another funny jerk; was she going to hide away and pretend she hadn’t seen the monster in her driveway?

A soft sigh pushed past my lips, inaudible because the rain seemed to be pounding down harder with every moment. Shoving my hands in the pockets of my pants, I resigned myself to trudging my way to the closest bus stop. Gods only knew how far away that was from Elizabeth’s posh neighborhood.

“Joe! Joe Taylor, you get your ass inside my house this fucking second or I will skin you alive, you little asshole!”

I froze, and turned to face her so slowly that it could have taken five minutes, or five hours, or five seconds. Everything was a blur to me at that point, and I’d lost track of the unimportant things like time. “E-Elizabeth,” I slurred her name, and the tears ran thicker down my face.

The horror in her eyes grew into a real and serious fear. She had never, in almost ten years of working together, seen me cry. To see me so utterly broken down- it must have shocked her. She moved slowly, like I was a scared, injured animal. Elizabeth was smarter than Kisten; she herded me toward the door without touching me, murmuring soothing words I barely heard as she goaded me into her house.

It was so warm. The warmth only made me shiver harder. I couldn’t stop, no matter how tightly I wrapped my arms around myself. I looked down at her floors, and a soft laugh rumbled out of me. “Don’t drip on the hardwood,” I said softly, a line spoken more than once in the novel I was writing. I laughed again, and once I started, I couldn’t stop.

“Joe!” Elizabeth touched me, then. Grabbing me by the shoulders, she steered me into the living room and shoved me down on the floor. I looked up at her from my new spot on the floor by her couch. There was nothing to read on my face as my laughter hitched and started to become sobs again.

“What happened to you, Joe?” she asked softly, stroking the top of my head.

I didn’t have it in me to be disgusted, to flinch away. “W-What happened?” There was my laughter again. “Why don’t you ask Kisten? Kisten can tell you. It’s Kisten’s fault. Stupid son of a mouse.” I’d never laughed and cried at the same time. I must have lost my mind at some point on the bus ride to Elizabeth’s house.

“Kisten?” Elizabeth’s eyes went hard, and she knelt on the carpet in front of me. She set her hands gently on my shoulders as she caught my eyes. “What did Kisten do to you, Joe?”

“He… h-he…” I broke down, unable to say it, nearly biting through my tongue when I tried to get the words out. “I’m s-sorry, Elizabeth, I c-can’t-”

“It’s fine! Don’t push yourself!” Elizabeth said immediately, her voice higher than usual.

My eyes widened as I looked at her. She was being so nice to me. Why was she being so nice when I was a monster?

“Stay here for a second. Promise me you won’t run out,” Elizabeth said. When I didn’t answer, she shook me. “Promise me!”

I nodded my head until I could speak. “I p-promise.”

She didn’t seem satisfied, or convinced, but she got to her feet and left the room. When she came back, she was carrying a blanket and a pile of towels.

Elizabeth didn’t say a word. She draped the blanket over me, making sure I wrapped it around myself, before clambering up on the couch behind me. She threw a few of the blankets on the floor before unfolding one of them and starting to work drying my hair.

Neither of us said anything, both of us content with the silence for the moment. Ever so slowly, my tears dried up. With the end of the tears came exhaustion, and I fell asleep with Elizabeth finger-combing my hair and softly singing a song above my head.

She still didn’t say a word when I woke up. Elizabeth made me a cup of coffee and let me sit at her dining room table while she made us dinner. Only when I was tucking into the plate in front of me, too afraid of her glare to not eat, did she finally talk to me again.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

I was unusually calm at that point; all the emotions must have worn me out. And I was still tired. It was three in the morning, and we were eating dinner, and I just wanted to sleep. But I felt like I owed her.

I looked up at her, determined. Tears swam in my eyes for a moment when I saw her soft expression. Blinking the tears away, I forced myself to spit out the words. “Kisten attacked me,” I said, stabbing viciously at the pasta on my plate.

“He what?!” Elizabeth’s hands slammed down on the table, making me jump. “Tell me everything.”

So I told her everything, without holding back. Everything from my confusion as to why I was so excited to see him, to what Kisten had said to me before he… before he… I couldn’t so much as think the words still. It was such a vile act it made me shudder to even think about it.

When I was done, Elizabeth leaned back in her chair with a stony expression. “Alright. I forbid you to go anywhere near that child again,” she declared.

“Elizabeth-”

“No! Don’t you dare, Joe!”

I blinked at her. “I was just going to say I wasn’t planning on it.”

She blinked back before she started to laugh. “I’m sorry, Joe. I keep forgetting you’re not a child I can protect all the time,” she admitted sheepishly.

I wasn’t afraid of smiling at her, like I was with most people. The woman cared for me far too much, the poor thing. “I know. I’m sorry I put you through all this trouble. Do you mind… do you mind if I stay the night?”

“Of course not. Stay as long as you need to.” She pushed back from the table, taking our empty plates. I waited at the table until she was done, until she headed to her room.

She paused for a moment, her held held out toward me. For a split second, the familiar fear reared its ugly head. I shoved it down for her sake. When I inclined my head slightly, she took it as the invitation it was and ruffled my hair.

“Try to get some sleep, alright?” She bent to kiss my forehead, a sweet and almost motherly gesture. If that was what mothers really did, I wouldn’t mind if Elizabeth acted like one. Then she yawned, stretching out her arms as she did. Smiling slightly, she waved at me, her final good night; then she left me alone in her kitchen, numb after everything that had happened and ready to sleep for the next century.