Painless Love Chapter 2_(1)

I feel like my very own heart is bleeding—or is not it? I can’t be late for this interview with Keyshawn. No way. This is something big and more important than I have ever done before. Of course! She is not the highest, top-most celebrity that I have ever interviewed. Not certainly! Whoops! I have to make my leave right now—right away, without any slight or tiny tad bit sort of delay. Yep-yuppy!

It is dark and dreary-like outside here. The sky is all this limitless and boundless. I can feel the cold bite and chew into my flesh as I walk in the early night that is so packed and thronged with so many people huddling and bustling about. I feel kind of bored and very much ill at ease. Thus I fetch my iPod music player, then carefully plug in my earphones, and start playing on some slow but romantic track of music. In this life, can we ever live happily and blissfully without romance? Of course! Easily and painlessly still as a matter of fact. No wonder I have to enjoy being single for this little bit while before I start to belong and be hold in the tender and caring and affectionate arms of someone else. Yuwl!

I am supposed to walk and move faster than I already now am advancing. I hardly and barely don’t know why I am going so slowly and unhurriedly. I guess that I am tired. I like my things done fast and brilliantly smart. Before now, I was a tediously slow and laggard person whom someone could hardly yell and snap at—pointing out at how much of a tortoise and less more of a leopard I actually was in getting things done. Oh my! These old, boring, but vigorously exciting memories of mine? I love and cherish them!

It is more dark and dreary still on this narrow street and alley. I barely even notice it. Up till I look behind and think that I saw a cat meow and then rush down the street after me. I stop and peer at it more closely with due attention this time. And I discover that it is not any cat after all. But instead three darkly-seeming men with weird and scary-like looking hats on their heads and some things grasped and clutched in their hands. Shit! They are running and chasing after me. I have to speed my way quickly. I barely don’t know what it is that they wielding in their hands and it might be knives or axes or anything that American Chainsaw crappy scary stuff. These things have happened before, and they can easily happen to me as well. Run, Tori, run—my conscious and instincts guide and steer me. I make haste here and straight away.

I am wearing high heels today. I didn’t want to put them on. Courtney poked fun at me back at our apartment that I looked funny and silly in a knee-high blue skirt matched with a turquoise colored-like shirt that has lovely purple and green stripes marked and emblazoned all over it. I had first worn flat shoes with this. “Put on those clack-y, feisty, and taddy bit sort of Teddy Bear looking highs of yours, girl,” she had snorted out at me while giggling and sniggering out to herself. I agreed with her, and I did like she told and instructed me to.

I try my best to move as fast and charily as I can. I pass my way into the following street, and it is here that I gather and hastily pick up my speed all the more high and nippy. Yes. I must toil and endeavor my best until I leave those strange and frightening-looking men behind me. I quickly and instantaneously sneak my way into another quiet and desolate street. At least it is all quiet and calm here. It sure and definitely is. Once I am here—just so I don’t attract the attention and awareness of those gruesome men following me behind, I quicken and step up my pace, gracefully mild and chaste-fully considerate on the other hand. What a relief this definitely must be for me!

Just as I am about to head off into another street; a man, large and muscular-like looking, looms up straight into my view suddenly and abruptly to hit and crash me. I have not seen him or even suspected his presence and being here. What is he looking here at this early hour of the evening? I am thinking this when Mirth, my bothersome and snappy-doggy-sort-of spy-enjoying conscious steps in much to my discomfort and annoyance: What are you also looking for here yourself, Tori, at such an early awful hour of the evening? I don’t want to answer her back—or else mine would be angry and disrespectful or even insulting words. I simply tell her: Shut up, you dirty Mirth! If you don’t have anything to do, you better seal yourself up in that troubled brain of mine and seek something else better and significant to do.

Honestly speaking, I am shocked. This man here—he is terribly and wonderfully handsome. He reminds me of Charles. Charles was one of the most wonderful and dazzling ever beautiful creations that I have ever met. And so is this man. Wait a minute…..could he be his unquestionable and handsomely brother? I can’t tell that for now.

I shrink away from the man. He is holding a small beautiful dog in his hand—a nicely growing up puppy I should rather say clear-cut—and the moment he notices me flinch and recoil away from him, he sets it down carefully and steadily slow so that he walk over to me with his hands thrown high and soaring up into the air. Is this a total surrender from him or what?

“Sorry to frighten you, miss. I want you to know that I am a very trusted man and there is no hell way on earth I could be capable of injuring and hurting you.”

All American psychos overuse that to lure in their victims. How so true are his words? I look and examine him again. Yes. He is neatly and impeccably dressed. In a neat and exquisite black suit even. Is he going for some function? With whom precisely? His girlfriend, of course, you silly girl! That must be Mirth. She better behave herself for he own good and benefit. Seriously!

“Who are you?” I ask him quietly and with an icky-echoing tone. I gulp down my throat straight just after this. Has he made out already how nervous and fearful I am?

“I am Rhys Ty Jonas. I want you to know that you can always trust and have faith and confidence in me. I mean no any sort of harm to you—honestly speaking.”

“I am Tori Wolf. I am just coming from work now, and I am going to take my leave straight off if you don’t mind that.”

“Wait…wait…..please,” he begs and entreats me. I stop and turn around to him. At this point in time, a chilly and icing-up breeze of wind gusts past me to hurl and toss away my long, cutely brown hair away from my face. Chestnut brown hair that is! Just so I am concise and spot-on with what I am saying and describing here. “Where are you going please? I would like to take you there personally.”

“Don’t bother. It isn’t all that far even. I will be there in like less than an hour,” I say this with an intensely glad and extremely happy smile. Hmmnnnn! That was quite a little bit kind and polite of him. Or should I say very highly generous and angel-hearted? Whatever term it is that you like any better—the man is agreeably kind and compassionate to me.

“These streets have proved out to be dangerous time and again. I know why you were taking flight when I ran into you and you still have that piss-scared and terribly-awed look on your face.”

He must be right.