Page 19 of Mimic

Are you?

I wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe this life wasn’t worth having me in it. Maybe I was better off dead.

I made it back to my apartment without incident. I’d slammed the door, twisted the lock, and fallen into bed and cried the rest of the night.

It wasn’t often that I cried anymore. I’d decided when we left the Trick Pony that no one would see my tears ever again. No one was entitled to my pain.

But in my small apartment, who would see it?

There was no one here to take advantage of my weaknesses. No one to laugh at me, no one to poke at my emotions until I broke and gave in. No one to hurt me when I didn’t do what they wanted. And they all wanted something different.

Some of them wanted to see us cry—they got off on our pain and fear. Others wanted us to fight. They wanted us to scratch and punch as they overpowered us.

Then there were the ones who wanted our full submission. They wanted us to enjoy ourselves, even if we had to pretend. They’d expected us to thank them for raping us. For degrading us until there was nothing left of ourselves.

Nothing left for anyone else.

They were the worst. They were sick fucks who convinced themselves they were doing nothing wrong. If we didn’t fight or cry, it was because we wanted them. We wanted what they were doing to us.

They’d convinced themselves they were loving us. Giving us something only they could.

A soft knock on my door the next morning interrupted my thoughts. I stared at it for a moment before Haizley called out, “Indie, it’s me.”

With a deep breath, I made my way to the door and opened it.

“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay.” I threw myself on my couch as Haizley closed the door and made her way over to sit next to me.

“Do you want to talk?”

“Why, so you can go back to Gunner and tell him you fixed it?”

“That’s not fair, Indie—”

“Fair?” I asked, leaping from the couch. “How is any of this fair? I get punched in the face and knocked out, and Gunner cancels my appointments. I feel like I’m being punished for something that has nothing to do with me.”

I leaned against the window and stared at the street below. Diamond Creek was a great little town. A quiet town that I thought was perfect. A place where I could put down roots, make some friends, have a career and just live. Something I hadn’t ever done.

Moving around after Alice and I ran away from the foster home filled me with constant stress. There was never enough to eat. We were always looking over our shoulders. Then, one day, Alice decided to stay put.

And I moved on alone.

It wasn’t until I met Apollo in Texas that my life began to change. He’d seen me in the park one day. I sat on a bench eating my meager lunch. I’d spent more money on supplies than food, hoping to sell portraits I’d drawn of people.

He asked me to draw a picture of him, and when I was done, he asked if I’d ever thought about doing tattoos. It wasn’t something I had ever considered. Not because I didn’t liketattoos, but because I had no idea how one even became a tattoo artist.

Apollo dragged me to his shop and gave me my first tattoo. I watched him as he ran the gun over my skin. The constant jabbing of the small needle was cathartic in a way. When he was done, he’d asked me to draw a simple image of a bow and arrow, no bigger than two inches, and then he’d asked me to tattoo it on him.

He’d taken a chance on a young girl in the park. He’d created an identity for me. I’d never asked him how, and he never asked me who I was. He’d never pried into my past. I felt bad that I’d left the way I did, but Daniel had found me. I’d left everything behind except my tattoo and piercing equipment and snuck away in the night. Apollo never came looking for me, and I’d wondered if he’d expected me to run. Either that or he’d assumed I wouldn’t still use the name he gave me.

“Indie, I know you don’t understand what is going on, but I need you to trust me. Trust Gunner. We care about you, and we want you to be safe. Let us help you.”

“I don’t need help. I have been on my own for a long time. I can take care of myself.”

“You know, I said that same shit to Gunner. He didn’t believe me then, and I don’t believe you now. No one chooses to be alone, Indie.”

“I did. Alone was better than being surrounded by people who didn’t give a fuck about what happened to you and how they hurt you,” I muttered without thinking.