vignette two. all of these are on a whim, unedited. rambles.

2.

So much rain. Cold, hard, pitted against my button down shirt which was now matted to my skin. Shivering, shivering, shivering - I reached for the door handle to my truck, fingers slipping. Not sure if they were slipping because of the rain, how cold I was or the mere fact that I was dealing with my emotions shaking my core into an overload of catastrophic proportions.

"Nona!"

He called my name and all of whatever breath that had kept me standing was knocked from my ribcage and onto my rain pelted truck window. Every part of my body fell forward in a fluid motion of inner turmoil and the only reason I started to stand again was because I was in his arms, being held.

"Nona, stop, stop," he was cooing in my ear, pulling my drenched hair from my face, from my tear-stained eyes and cheeks. I melted into his equally cold body, seeking the warmth only his heart could offer. "Nona, stop," a now seemed to be added on without much actually being said. My body wouldn't stop shivering, I felt every inch and fiber of my being as I started to bring myself to a more level-grounded consciousness.

you just want his money, you just want everything, don't you, you fucking goddamn bint!

I'd never been yelled at by someone with a British accent, and now that I think about it, there was some comic relief found in it, but as I stood there (barely) shaking from top to toes, all I could think about was the pain I was forced to endure. Pain I didn't want, need or think possible.

"Nona, it's all going to be all right. I promise."

Even though I sort of knew he meant it, nothing in me wanted to believe him. At all.