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by Nola.Witlock » September 17th, 2022, 9:26 pm
Days dragged on into weeks and Nola was finally given a conditional release from the room’s confindes. Though she wasn’t to leave the Wharf Rat, she wasn’t even allowed past its second story. So, she walked, listlessly through the halls, up the stairs and back down again in a loop. Sometimes she’d stop and listen at the door while the girls worked, tapping her fingers or dragging her nails against the door. By the time anyone opened them, she’d be gone, up the stairs and back around on her loop.
Franklin had started tending the bar again, a position he hadn’t occupied in years. He usually spent the open hours in his office, but these days he preferred a vantage point that allowed him to keep tabs on his daughter. The stairs to the second story exited directly in front of the old oak bar and if she were to tread down them she’d have to get through him to leave.
She’d tried her hand at it of course, she didn’t think anyone was surprised. The day after being released from her room she’d attempted to sneak out through the bar and out the back door. She had earned herself four more days in the small room for it, but what were boundaries if not things to be pushed? So for now, she behaved for her captors and walked aimlessly through the halls.
The chemical dependency had begun to wane but her desire to mute her thoughts and memories remained as strong as ever. She tried to sleep as often as she could, she valued those moments of unconsciousness and the peace that they brought her. Nola’s waking moments were not as pleasant, sadly. She still had the hole in her soul that made the waking world appear hollow and distant while she existed in it.
Nola paused at the end of the hall, this is where she would usually turn around to walk the path once more. But as she stood there she noticed a large mirror hanging upon the wall. Had this always been here? No, she would have remembered it; someone must have hung it recently.
The mirror was oblong and framed in ornately carved wood, painted in gold. Nola’s eyes traced the frame of the mirror before focusing on her reflection. The woman that stood there bore a resemblance to Nola Witlock, but she wasn’t her. Her face was hollow and gaunt, her eyes sunken and her black hair hung in stringy clusters around her head. She leaned closer to the reflection, studying what she saw closely.
“Who are you? Have we met before?” Her mouth contorted into a crooked grin as she spoke to the reflection. The mirror didn’t show her, this was someone else, someone new who she was going to have to become acquainted with.
Nola continued to study the reflection, her lip curling up into a sneer. She missed who she was a year ago; carefree and unlaidened with grief. This new person was but an echo of her former self; weak and pathetic. Her hand clenched into a fist, the skin pulling around her knuckles tauntly. She lifted her fist in preparation to strike the mirror but a voice from the story below pulled her attention elsewhere.
“I’m just asking that you talk to her”, Nola recognized Franklin’s voice and turned to walk back down the hall, following her usual path to the second story and crouched next to the stairs that lead to the first floor.
“What exactly do you want me to tell her?” Nola heard the female voice and leaned in closer to try to pick it out.
“Look, Bonnie, I’ve never asked you for anything when it came to Nola, but please-” Franklin was cut off abruptly by the woman who made a low hissing noise.
“And why would I owe you anything when it comes to -your- daughter?”
Nola held her breath as she listened to the conversation. Bonnie Blood had been a friend of Franklin’s long before Nola’s existence, a family friend with long black hair suspiciously close to Nola’s. Bonnie had always flitted in and out of Franklin’s life, stopping in to stay for days or weeks at a time before heading out again for an unspecified duration. Sometimes it would be months, sometimes years, this time it had been nearly seven months.
“You don’t owe me anything”, She could hear Franklin’s voice change, it was softer as though he were trying to talk to a startled animal he feared might run, “But she looks up to you, and I think you could really help her right now. She’s not been the same since. .”, Franklin trailed off, not even a man as strong as he was could bring himself to say it.
From her place, perched at the top of the stairs Nola let out an involuntary growl at the mention. She could hear the floorboards creak as those below shifted their weight at the noise.
“I think she can hear you.” The female voice said with a hint of amusement. “I always tried to tell you Frankie, there are no secrets in homes with children.”
Nola could hear the steps approaching her but she made no attempt to hide, instead she stood to her full height and waited for the woman. Bonnie came up the stairs, she was a tall woman, about the same height as Nola with an athletic body earned through years of sailing, tanned skin from long days in the sun and black hair sprinkled with silver. She had to be in her early forties now but to Nola she looked amazing.
The women’s eyes met and Nola’s couldn’t help but give her a weak smile. She had been drawn to Bonnie since the first time she’d come back to the Wharf Rat when Nola was seven, dragging her four year old son Lucien Silvercrest in tow. Jisel had raised her and for all intents and purposes was her mother, but deep down she had always hoped it was Bonnie who had dropped her off on the steps of the brothel all those years ago.
“Your Pa thinks it would be good if we had a chat”, Bonnie said and motioned to the stairs. The pair sat at the top of them and their feet came to rest two steps below. Bonnie looked over and much to Nola’s relief she didn’t read an ounce of pity in her eyes. “I heard you’ve been having a hard time with things.”
“I’m fine, Bonnie”, Nola looked away from the woman and focused on the step just out of her reach.
“Oh you are? You could have fooled me, because you look like shit, girl”
Nola grimaced at her words but chuckled nonetheless, “I’m trying a new style”.
Bonnie dug into a pocket in her heavy coat and produced a curved metal flask, offering it to the woman at her right. “You should try something else”, Bonnie said bluntly.
Pursing her lips, Nola took the flask and drank deeply from it. The cheap whiskey burned her throat but she didn’t care. She hissed as she finished the contents of the container and returned it empty to Bonnie.
“I did and now Franklin has me on house arrest.” Nola motioned around to the hallway to emphasize.
“I wasn’t talking about drugs”, Bonnie shook the empty flash and stowed it back away with a slight frown, “There are other ways to channel your frustrations. I find that a pipe or a gun helps”.
“Oh yeah? I’m not sure a reckless crime spree is exactly what I need right now.”
“I’m not talking about that, I’m talking about finding this boy that got you into trouble and left you to fend for yourself. I’m talking about teaching him the last lesson he’ll ever learn.” Bonnie said the words casually as though this were the logical solution.
She looked at Bonnie out of the corner of her eye, not turning her head to face her. She wasn’t sure how she had known Nola wanted to kill him, but she appreciated her support regardless.
“I don’t even know where to find him.”
“That’s part of the fun, you get to go find him.”
Nola’s brow furrowed as the image of Lucus came before her mind. She once felt what she thought was love for the man, now all she experienced was resentment when she conjured his likeness. These last months she had been running from her emotions and filling the void with whatever she could; afraid to feel them in any true depth. Perhaps Bonnie was right, she needed something to focus on, she already knew Lucus was to blame, she just needed to bring him to her justice.
“Where do I start?” Nola asked, her eyes still unfocused and staring forward.
“You start with a shower. I don’t mean to twist the knife but, you smell like shit, too”. Bonnie balanced herself on her hands and leaned back with a grin plastered over her face.
Nola couldn’t help but laugh, she knew Bonnie had a point; she was still in the same clothes Franklin had found her in at the flop house. Talking to Bonnie was always easy, she didn’t ask a lot of questions, she didn’t have expectations of her and she always seemed to know the right thing to say.
“Then you stop wallowing and you do something. I can’t say I’m not disappointed to come back here to find you’ve let some boy ruin your life” Bonnie’s words cut across her and Nola physically winced against them, “You’re better than this, Magnolia.”
Bonnie was one of the few people who used her full name, and she always pulled it out at the best moments to drive her point home.
“It’s his fault she died.” Nola said through clenched teeth.
“Of course it is.” Bonnie agreed with her instantly, a look of zealous righteousness across her face, “It’s his fault and you need to be the one to tell him. How dare he exist out there, breathing the air she wasn’t allowed to.”
The words struck her like stones thrown into the ocean, and found their home inside of her mind. Bonnie was right, she was letting him do this to her. She let him leave, she let him stay away and now she was letting him live his life without sharing the pain she felt. She needed to make him understand one way or another.
“I’m going to find him, and I’m going to kill him, Bonnie.”, It was as if the words somehow instilled her with a new purpose that replaced her need to hide away from herself and the pain she felt.
Bonnie smiled and gave her a nod. She knew the woman was genuine in her suggestion and she wasn’t sure if it was her approval or her own desires that drove her more towards this goal.