Short but couldn't sleep without writing this out! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Three Days Later
"Your results show no signs of any STDs, and while that may be good news for now. You're not completely out of the woods just yet. I suggest that you arrange an appointment in the next couple of months for a check-up so that I can give you a final result."
Roddrick's hands held on tightly to the paper covered leather she had been directed to when she came into the doctor's office. She found herself letting out a deep breath she hadn't even noticed she was holding. The older woman before her gave a polite smile as she saw the relief and color return to Roddrick's face.
"Thank God." She said under her breath.
"You're free to go. Just make sure to stop by the front desk and schedule a checkup appointment." Saying her goodbyes and expressing gratitude, Roddrick watched the slim woman whisk out in her long white coat. When Roddrick hopped down, she found tiny pieces of paper that had torn off into her clammy palms. Gathering her composure, she tried her best to not stomp her feet from joy as she picked up her purse, and walked out of the office calmly.
She took the small appointment reminder card she held in her hands, reading the date that was three months in the future. The date when she could possibly fully breath from the scare of her little rendezvous.
The one time she does something dumb, it had to have been having sex with a stranger in the Caribbean.
Roddrick searched her pockets for the key to her bike lock as she knelt down and began to unhook her prized possession. She was currently in the process of saving up for her first car, and at twenty four she had to admit that it was going to be her biggest purchase of her life thus far. With her birthday just months away, she thought that it would be a nice gift for her. She even ventured as far as to wonder if she could have it delivered to her mother's house with a bow on top.
Placing her oversized sunglasses on her face, she ignored the head nods and stares of a group of young boys; decked out in graphic tank tops and snapback hats. They looked no older than Roderica, and in that moment she was actually happy that her sister showed no interests in boys just yet.
When she had been Roderica's age, she had one boyfriend that had lasted from the time she was sixteen, until her twenty third birthday when she found him taking another girl to dinner across town after cancelling what was supposed to be a special date night just for Roddrick. His name was Brian, and he had been one of the first guys she met upon moving to California that didn't tease her about her then chubbiness, or the way she spoke.
Her family had travelled cross country from the St. Martin parish of Louisiana. Her grandparents were Creoles deeply rooted in their culture and past and had been big on keeping the language and knowledge within the family, generation after generation. Just as it had been her mother's first language, it had been Roddrick's as well. She still kept a strong hint of the accent that was found there, which had gotten her plenty of stares and quirked eyebrows telling her to repeat what she said.
Roderica had still been young when their mother left with them. Though, Roddrick remembered that time in their life as more of a frantic flight, and not just simply going on a long trip no matter what her mother tried to tell them for comfort.
Her father hadn't been the best of men, and though she never said it to her mother who still loved the man, he was the worst by her book. Clinton Kennedy had come from North Carolina seeking work there in the state of Louisiana on an oil rig. Rockelle had travelled one night for a night of fun even though her parents, Alfonso and Marie Dupree, had told her constantly to steer clear of the men down on the oil rig. She had come across the young and handsome man whose dark brown skin and sharp features had made her melt on the spot. Against her family's wishes, she had fallen in love with him, and was glad to become his wife when he proposed on a whim during the time period when their relationship was burning hot. Their love had been crazy, loud, strong, and suffocating. The passion they held had lost the twinge of love that was left after Clinton's mean streaks took precedence over their relationship. Roddrick's childhood was filled with screaming matches, or locked and bolted doors being kicked in late at night. In the end, it had seemed as absolutely nothing of value to her.
Rockelle had suffered through it all, thinking that it was best that both parents were present in their children's lives; divorced or divided families being uncommon during her lifetime. Women were taught to stick it out and that a little man was better than no man at all. When Roddrick had been born, Clinton had accused his wife of cheating on him, insisting that their first born was far from being his child. It had taken him years to call her by her actual name and not just, you, yet not once did he ever claim her as his own, or show that he felt any kind of connection with Roddrick. Rockelle made up every excuse in the book as to why daddy didn't like her. Roddrick would imagine that his harsh words were actually one of praises and love when she was by herself to make up for what she lacked with her father as a young girl.When Roderica had been born, Clinton had become a completely different man. He loved the little girl like nothing else in the world, and was glad to boast about the features she seemed to take on from his side of the family. For the first couple of years of Roderica's life, things had been well enough for smiles to exist in the house. If Clinton was happy, then everyone was happy.
It hadn't taken long for that small sense of normalcy to slip away as it seemed with each passing year, he grew meaner than before, and it came to a point that even Roderica's smiles and kisses couldn't stop their father's rage. He had banned their mother from speaking Creole to Roddrick, or teaching the language to Roderica. He had hated the way that Rockelle's family purposely spoke in the other language whenever they were around. The hate was mutual on both sides, and Clinton especially didn't appreciate not being able to understand what was being said. He liked things in control, his way, at all times, and that's exactly how their life had been.
The last time Roddrick could remember being around her father was one fateful night when she had been his main target. It had been her first year of high school, and the year that her mother had found out about the children Clinton fathered outside of their marriage. The secret family he had lived in the same neighborhood, and that was enough for Rockelle to finally begin to fight back.
It had been a week of arguments, and locking Clinton out of the house, but against her better judgement, Rockelle had allowed a nearly tearful Clinton back into the house after days of pleading with her. Rockelle never went to the police for help, whether it was her or Roddrick who had been in danger of her husband's anger. That fact being something she was forever sorry and remorseful for. Everyone had reached their boiling point after days of back and forth. Roddrick had spoken up against her father, calling him out for the wrongs he had done against her mother, and against their family. The moment she mentioned that a teacher from school offered her help with their nearly public issue of domestic violence at home, Clinton had ferociously drug Roddrick into a bedroom, locking and barring it as he beat her unconscious.
She could still remember the way he had flopped her around, telling her that he was going to give her a good reason to "get help." Before she had blacked out from his forceful hits. The last thing she had heard was her mother's banging and the sound of Roderica wailing outside of the door.
When Clinton had tired out enough to leave Roddrick's form on the ground, he had silently and walked out of the house like he was in a trance, telling Rockelle that he would be back later on that night.
She knew then that she couldn't put her kids through the trauma any longer after that. That she couldn't risk their lives like this as she had carried Roddrick's body to her Cadillac, and drove her daughters to her parents' home. Through tears and screams, they had cleaned Roddrick up enough, both grandparents' having been retired physicians.
They had only been safe for a couple of days before Clinton stood on the front doorsteps of the house, still in the bloody and dirty clothes he had left in, staring down the barrel of Alfonso's shotgun. Making quick connections and calling all of the family that they could think of, they had found a place of refuge for Rockelle and her daughters in California with Alfonso's sister. And the moment that they could, her parent's had sent them on their way by bus, torn by sending them so far away, but they knew that even they couldn't keep the girls safe in their home from Clinton.
When they had arrived, they were all quick to settling in and adapting to a life sans Clinton and his terror. They spoke their language again amongst their aunt. They ate foods Clinton insisted on being disgusting, they shared laughter and happiness for what felt like the first time in their lives. Roddrick had done well in school, and had hooked on to Brian the moment she felt safe around him and had gotten positive attention from the boy; she had made him her life for the most part. In a way she was glad they were no longer together. She could only imagine what would have been of her had she fell so blindly in love with him the way Rockelle had done with Clinton.
Though she had swatted away the constant chatter and hints thrown her way about Brian's unfaithfulness seeing it firsthand had smacked her in the face with some sense and left her to make a wise decision before she became too wrapped up in a web of lies and deceit.
Since then, she hadn't seen much action, and honestly, she felt relieved to have time to herself.
She had spent most of her teens and early twenties thinking she was in love with the guy. Ready to marry him, and have his babies the moment he asked.
Okay. Maybe the baby part would have to wait, but the point was she was so in love with him that as a consequence she had lost herself in the passion that had begun to dwindle between them.
Her best friend from high school had called it long ago.
"Roddrick, I'll be the first to tell you that he ain't shit. Don't waste your time."
She chose to find out for herself if what she had said about him was true. Of course she had enjoyed the ride along the way, she had seen plenty of signs but had thought love conquers all, and that things could and would be worked out. Enough was enough after a while.
Roddrick felt that if there was one, then there were probably others before the one she just so happened to catch him with.
She would be a lying fool to say that some days she didn't miss him, and the good times that they had shared. But she'd be an even bigger fool to think that there wasn't anyone out there who could give her that and then some while respecting and loving her the way it should be done.
As Roddrick fell in line with the light traffic of the late morning, she rubbed at her eyes. Her vision had become slightly blurry, and her first thought was to get home and rest up and enjoy her day off from working as a part time photographer, and conserve enough energy to work her night job as a waitress at a local bar.
She knew she needed it badly, and she decided that she wouldn't deny her body that kind of pleasure.
Milo wiped the back of his neck with the small gym towel as he unlocked his car. He had gotten back into the groove of working out since his brief trip. Exercise had become such an important part of his recovery, and it was something he didn't want to let go of. It allowed him to relax and blow off much needed stress on his good and bad days.
He had been one of the lucky people who never worked out a day in their lives, and still managed to maintain a slim figure. He had lived off of that easy lifestyle when he was younger, but now he saw just what he had been missing out on all of those years ago. At twenty two, some days he felt like he had just gone through puberty when he caught a glimpse of his now cut and defined muscles.
His body was something he could take pride in. Not because of the looks or people it could attract his way, but it was something that he could feel living and breathing and growing. It let him see a side of life that he had been blind to just a few years ago. That his own life was a great and miraculous thing, and that there was no point in wasting it while he had the time.
Milo was a privileged little fuck when he was younger.
All of the girls, all of the money, all of the drugs were at his disposal. His parents had spoiled both their children rotten, but had still tried to instill some kind of morals in them. Sadly, it had all stopped filtering through with his sister Lauren before it could reach him. He partied day in and day out, and fucked as many girls as he could.
He had liked to play on what his name could get him from just about anyone. The popularity and respect had been something he lived for the most. After all, it had brought him Jade...
There was a time when just the thought of that name could have meant the death of him. And it almost did.
Jade Moncla had been his ride or die girlfriend throughout high school and his short stint in college. She was there to take lines with him, drink, and the occasional hook up with girls of her choosing when she was feeling extra loving. He couldn't have asked for more at the time, thinking that if he had to die young, he was going to die happy.
Jade had come from the same background as he did; rich and not a worry in life about anything. Together, they had become a figurehead among the young adult community of what seemed like the perfect relationship. They had been captured in hundreds of pictures in compromising poses, becoming the poster children for what it meant to be wild and free. Both of them had no problem with their roles either.
Now that he could think about it with a clean and sober mind , all of their time had been spent getting high, having sex, and hitting up any party that they could together. It didn't matter the day or the week, they found time to indulge themselves.
They had met at fourteen years old while both attended a party being held by upperclassmen. They were the kind of people Lauren always warned Milo about, but he paid her no mind. At that point in his life, the furthest he had gone in his endeavors had been beer and weed. He could still remember the bowl filled with colorful pills that had been dished out like candy the first night he met Jade.
He had heard about her from middle school. She had always been known as being the trendsetter and leader of most of the girls who flocked to her. He had nurtured a slight crush on her for years, and now that they were in high school, he finally had the chance to show her what he was made of. With more confidence than a normal teenage boy, he had made his moves on her and was glad that she liked what she saw.
He could still remember the small square she had placed on his tongue after an intense kissing scene that had been egged on by the older kids, and how she had led him into a closet and given him his first sexual experience.
After that night, they had become a pair.
They had fallen so fast, and so hard that nothing could push them apart.
Not when Lauren noticed how she saw her brother less and less at school.
Not when his parents questioned him about the numerous emails and letters that were sent home from his teachers threatening suspension and being held back if he didn't make a change.
Nothing had been enough.
By the time he was nineteen and struggling through his first year of college, he found that he couldn't imagine life without Jade and all that she had brought with her. He became dependent on her-sickling so - to the point that he felt anxious when she wasn't around, or if he couldn't get in touch with her. Jade too felt his attachment, and had felt suffocated and wanted to put distance between them. As much as possible.
She had made the decision to take a six month break, something that was meant to heal the two, but did the complete opposite.
At least for Milo.
He suffered through withdrawal symptoms even though he was never without drugs. Jade had become the root of his addiction, and without her, he didn't function the same way.
Suddenly, he began to experience jealousy and sadness whenever he saw her at parties with other guys, carrying on the way they once had without a second thought or word of concern to him. He had tried to find quick fucks and hook ups, but they never lasted long enough for him to be satisfied.
One month into their break, he found that he couldn't help but call her. Text her. Do whatever it is that he could to communicate with her.
By the third month, he had noticed that Jade had found a special interest in a certain guy. From his own findings and the words of the friends they still shared, they were together all of the time.
By the fifth month, it was already rumored that they were starting a relationship.
He had broken then. Unable to handle it anymore when Jade had told him there wasn't any hope left for their relationship.
That she had moved on.
"You were fun Milo, don't get me wrong. I just think that we have ran our course."
Milo stayed in his apartment for a week, digesting the reality of it all as he went days without food, and barely remembering to breathe. Phone calls and knocks on his door had went unanswered.
By the tenth day of his shock, he had found himself opening every bottle of liquor, and prescription pills that weren't in his name and downing them all at once.
He should have died. He had tried to make sure that his mix was lethal enough.
But of course his mother had come to his rescue, saving him from the doom that she had seen long before it come true.
Milo took a deep breath as he drove.
He was better now.
His life was good. He had a reason to be happy. A reason to be alive.
He tried to remind himself that every chance that he could.
As he moved along the streets, Milo sucked his teeth noticing the back of a biker up ahead of him in his lane. As he approached, he began to slow down and look for an opportunity to pass the person by.
"Great." He sighed as he looked out his side view mirror, and also kept an eye on the person in front of him. Each time he prepared to pass, a car behind him beat him to it. One even beeping as they flew by.
"Fuck you too. It's not my fault." He shouted to no one.
The biker began to slow even more before they took a right turn, leaving Milo to drive the way he wanted to without the fear of sending them flying into the air.
As he passed by the street they had turned, Milo recognized that it was a woman. He face was hidden by oversized sunglasses, and her low ponytail pulled over one shoulder.
Before he could see anymore, she disappeared from sight, and he focused on making his way home.
Milo made his way through the spacious house that had been specially designed by his mother after his parents' marriage. It had her very taste and touch embedded into it, and had been the one place he could find himself at when he first returned, but now, a year later, he realized that it wouldn't hurt to finally move on to the next level in his new life and get a place of his own. The sound of laughter from the kitchen drove that point home even more.
He had since discarded his t-shirt and now stood bare chested in front of his mother's longtime friend, Angela. The woman had been around since before he was even born, and yet he couldn't mistake the lust filled gaze she bestowed upon him.
"Hi, Angela." He teased her.
"Milo, you look absolutely fantastic-I mean, how are you doing?" The woman was tongue tied as she failed to meet his eyes when she spoke. Victoria cleared her throat at her flustered friend. She had been a stay at home mom, while her husband was a big time lawyer, and Victoria was all too familiar with her many fantasies of snagging herself a younger man. She was all into the cougar scene, even if she was a married woman.
"Milo, why don't you get dressed properly. I was just about to make some tea, if you would like to join us." Victoria offered him a seat at the table, but he politely declined the chance to listen to the two women gossip while being ogled by the woman who had babysat him and saw him butt naked as a kid.
"I'm going to head over to Blake's place later. "
He made to leave before Victoria's heels clacked along the tiled floor.
"Excuse me? Blake? Who is Blake, sweetie?" She thought she wasn't being overbearing, but she was. She wanted to monitor Milo's every move, and every friend he managed to make.
"A friend mom." He said as he took the first few stairs towards his old room."I'm not a kid mom. I think I'm allowed to hang out with people that aren't members of your book club, don't you think?"
"I just want to make sure... you're safe. Of course I know you don't want to spend your time with a bunch of old women." Victoria tried to laugh as if her plan to keep him closely tied to her hadn't been foiled. "I just wanted to let you know that your company is always welcomed with us."
"I'll never forget." He called behind him as he jogged up the stairs.