ABOUT ADRIAN

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TW: Mentions of child (sexual) abuse and prostitution. [break][break]
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You love unconditionally but who loves you?[break][break]

Was there love when they had her? Young and desperate she yearns to say yes that her parents love her, that they wanted her. But the ache in her chest is raw, it brings forth tears that burn against her eyes and her throat constricts and it's difficult to breathe. She wants so desperately to say that her parents love her, but the words don't come forth. She loves them, they are her parents— the people she looked up to. A beautiful mother and an intelligent father, they could be the perfect family if they tried. Maybe she wasn't trying hard enough?[break][break]

Straight A's brought praises from the teachers she had, attention she couldn't get at home and so desperately craved but was too shy to ask for. Hiding behind her best friend Quin who was loud and reckless in her stead, unafraid to speak his mind— and hers for that matter. [break][break]

They played together until the sun began to set and he'd walk her home. A place that brought dread in her chest and a twitch to her lips as she fought back the desperate feelings of despair. She loved her home, because if she didn't.. who would? With the growing gambling debt that her father continued to thrust them in, her mother found solace in alcohol— spending what money they did have on it and drowning away her sorrows. Some nights her mother would weep into her hands before she'd see Adrian and despite the tears on her mother's face it was her favorite face of all. Because when her mother wept like this, she was kind, she held her close and gently stroked her hair and apologized for all the things they couldn't be. But other days— most days her mother was disorientated and angry before passing out. The words she'd say in her fit of rage brought forth the burn of tears and Adrian would tug her backpack home to do homework, fighting away the desire to cry. She had to work hard and they'd love her, right?
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It didn’t matter how hard she worked for her grades, or how well she learned to cook that new meal so she had something to eat— so her drunken mother had something to eat. But it didn’t matter, when the loan shark came to the door they were willing to sell her, begging him to take her for money. After all, she’d be worth something in the trade wouldn’t she? They didn’t bite though, waving it off and telling them to have the money next time or there’d be problems. She didn’t understand what that meant other than it caused her mother to wail once the door was shut and her father to get angry. The tightness in her chest and the tears spilling from her eyes.
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She loved them, so why didn’t they love her?
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It’d be the last time she saw them, when the door closed behind a man she wasn’t familiar with. He cooed her name and walked forward and she didn’t understand what any of it meant. Why her mother said they’d retrieve her in a couple hours or why her gut was sinking fast and fear was in her chest. She was scared and her hands shook, what did he want? Why was he looking at her like that?
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Panicked, afraid and alone she fled into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Whoever they were, they were trying to coax her out but she wouldn’t have any of it as her limbs shook and she struggled to pull the window. Landing in an ungraceful heap on the ground before she fled to her best friends house. More tears than she knew what to do with, staying with him for several weeks before his uncle finally caught on. She tried to retell what she’d heard and to the horror of Quin’s uncle over what all of it meant. She didn’t understand but when he took her to the police station she was quiet, subdued and sniffling. They asked her to retell what happened, and everything up until that point and then asked her to tell them where she lived.
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Her parents had left, taking the chance with their daughter missing to flee and leave all the responsibility behind. Whether fleeing from their child or the loan shark she’d never be sure. Instead she entered the foster care system, bouncing from one house to the other but she still spent most of her days with Quin. A lifeline she loved too much to give up.
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But Quin had changed too, the death of his best friend had angered him in a way she couldn’t comprehend. Violent and rash he acted before he thought and though he never took it out on her it was still scary to see him that way. She hoped that it was just how he grieved and that in time, he would move on. But he didn’t, he grew angrier and unsatisfied with how things went. When it felt like reason had all but abandoned him she had decided one last time to plead and get him to see what he was doing wasn’t right. Forming a gang for revenge wasn’t right, the people he was hurting— none of it was right. But in another fit of anger he lashed out and she ended up in the hospital. Shaking limbs with the heart rate monitor that beeped erratically. They asked what happened, who had done it but she refused to say. She still loved him, he was still grieving and she didn’t want to blame him. She couldn’t blame him, she loved him too much. So she refused to say, refused to tell the police and entered rehabilitation. She relearned to bear her weight on her legs and walk straight, the scar against her spine was bright and angry against her skin and when she finally saw it for the first time, she wept.
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She loved him, so why didn’t he love her?
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She graduated a year early, having nothing to focus on but her grades and she had already been a bright and intelligent student. She wanted to help, she wanted to be able to bandage the wounds she saw roughly stitched up on Quin, to help people when they couldn’t get it— when they were afraid to go to the hospital. She wanted to help him and others, so she set her sights on becoming a nurse. She’d help him, she wanted to help who she could. Maybe someone would love her for it?
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She was out of foster care and lying through her teeth about her situation, a mix of guilt and maybe shame. Whatever reason, it held her tongue and as the season turned to winter she was left on the street with nothing but a duffel bag of her things and dwindling hope for the dreams she had studied so hard for. The world was a dog-eat-dog world and she didn’t have the bark or bite to compete. So when a stranger walked up with money asking for her for the night, desperation took hold and she accepted. It was the first time of many, where she began to sell herself for money. Money came easier then. She had no bark or bite, but she had a lot of love to give.
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He came out of the blue, texting her and asking to meet. Broken and worn down, unsure of himself and she’d never felt so unsure of herself either. He cried and her heart broke and she cried with him. What happened between them and the time apart hadn’t changed that she cared about him and so when he wanted to start over she promised to do everything she could. It’d be a new start: for both of them.
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When they moved it was a sense of relief; to be away from the things they had been put through and to start over fresh. But settling in was difficult and bills were coming in and she was going to have to put her dreams on hold. She could see it in his face how much he resented the idea, but she smiled and told him it was okay. She was fine with it if it was a fresh start.
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He wasn’t satisfied and he got wind of something and despite her precautions he went digging. The bruised and bloody knuckles and haggard appearance were back and the anxiety was like a shot of adrenaline in her body. Afraid he’d fallen back into some other gang for money. Though with whatever he was doing they did make more it was taking its toll. He took on too much and so she began to dig herself, whatever it was she wanted to know.
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She found out and she could see why he wanted to join such a movement. To change how things worked— it was an idea she couldn’t deny that sounded good. But most of all she just wanted to help Quin, help others. Her earnest desire to others was perhaps an easy sway. They paid for her continued education and when she graduated she would be situated as a medic to them: patching people up without questions. She had already planned to do similar, being reminded of a young Quin and his past with her helpless desire to do something.
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So she took up residence at a local walk-in urgent care clinic. It was easy to take people in without question and even easier to erase whatever information on the visit that lied in the computers before they closed. She got to help them and others: it was everything she’d hoped for. With the money coming in at the better paying job too, they weren’t budget to budget anymore either. They could breathe a sigh of relief. For now.

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call me
DEVA

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