
09-19-2010, 02:19 AM
"I can’t believe you’re dead. You betrayed me.” A woman told the photo of a man in her hands, tears quietly falling as she pulled at a worn and singed jacket.
A month ago her father had died after being the random target of some desperate people. Muggers had shot him while he’d been digging for his wallet. A week after he died her house burned down, she had no job, and he’d left her with mountains of debts to pay off. He had pretended to protect her from everything he could, ever since she was little and now he was gone. She had no idea of what to do, so day in and day out she sat in various parks, sleeping on the benches and digging through the trash for the food that people with money wasted. Wearing only the clothes that she had left the house in the day her house burned down.
“Oh, dear. Are you ok? You seem distraught.” She looked up to see a man a little taller than average height leaning down to look at her. He had messy dark brown hair, and looked down at her with concern through incredibly green eyes, holding his glasses as if they were going to fall off his face. He looked too thin and was tall. He wore a nice brown pinstriped pant suit with grey tennis shoes.
“No shit Sherlock.” She told him grumpily, crossing her arms in a childish gesture of anger, turning away from him as she tried to stop the tears.
Straitening up from his crouched position, he calmly pushed his glasses up with one finger and sighed, “Oh, well. Is there anything I can do to help? My name’s Oliver. You are-” Sitting down; he held his hand out to her.
“Tink. Well actually Tinica, but you can call me Tink.” She stared at the hand suspiciously for a moment before shaking it. “Why do you care? I mean, I’m stinky, dirty, homeless and jobless.”
Oliver shrugged “Well to be honest,” He paused with a wry smile, “you’re sitting on my bench.”
The woman’s jaw dropped, why was he picking on her? “Yeah? Well you know why I’m sitting on your bench? Because, I don’t have a home. This is my bench now. I see no name on it.” Tink snapped at him.
“Well, I’m just as homeless as you but, unlike you, I actually have friends.” Oliver grinned at her as if he knew something she didn’t.
“How do you know that?”
Oliver chuckled, “Because, if you had real friends like me, you’d be clean, fed, and happy. I get to mooch off my friends, because they’re real friends, not posers.” He knew his ‘friends’ were actually one person, his sister, and though she was the one that was actually homeless, her last home being burned down, she’d kicked him out last night and hadn’t let him back in yet. He’d been insensitive towards the newest member of their house hold, another mythical being that had trouble blending into society.
Tink rolled her eyes at him. “You know what? You’re a loser.”
“I know that. Tell me something new and interesting.” His glasses flashed in the lamplight, as he smiled at her, forgetting his vampiric teeth might not look normal to her.
“A-are you a vampire?” Tink asked, trying not to panic as she thought of the many vampire books she’d seen youngsters reading these days. They weren’t supposed to be real but she couldn’t help asking.
“Hmm? Oh, no.” Oliver gave a small huff of a laugh, fingering a canine tooth. “I’m not a vampire, my mom was human.” He smiled, again, this time not as wide.
Tink gulped, and asked “And your father?”
“Umm. He was a demon.”
“Oh really? Then why do you have those sharp teeth? And why does your skin have those weird markings?” She asked him smugly, pointing to silver swirls on his skin, reminiscent of tribal tattoos.
He glared at her. “Because you’ve been reading too many of those crappy teen books. My teeth are perfectly normal for a half demon. And so is my skin.”Oliver nodded his head once, sharply, giving an ‘And-that’s- final’.
“Oh. I see.” Tink scooted away from him, looking at him side long as if he were insane.
Suddenly over his almost-a-snit, Oliver looked down at the pavement under his feet. “And what of you? How did you come to be here? Sitting on my bench in the middle of the night?”
Her voice flat and emotionless, she looked straight at him.“My father died, left me mountains of debt, I lost my job, and then my house decided to burn down while I was out looking for a job.” Tink let the words hang in the air for a moment before getting up to walk away, offended that he was so obviously making fun of her and then just asking random questions about her.
“Wait, That’s not right!! Where’re you going?! You can’t just say something like that and then get up and walk away! You have to give the person time to react!” Oliver yelled following after her.
“Yes I can. See? I’m doing it right now. Good bye.” Tink, not turning around, waved her hand in the air behind her in a short chop of a wave.
“Huh, what a horrible woman, quite unpleasant.” Oliver muttered to himself, turning south heading for his house to see if his sister would allow him back in.
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