Southern Comfort

Southern Comfort

Friday - 4:23pm

Shaking, the female pulled up to the gas station in a rust bucket Chevy truck. Pulling down the sun visor, green eyes scanned the reflection. She felt her stomach churn as a whiff of blood made its way up her nose and the memories from only moments before crashed through her mind. Flipping over in her seat, the driver snatched the hold-all off the passenger seat and then opened her door. Sliding out onto her feet, the girl's eyes darted around to make sure no one was there before making a dash for the toilets around the side of the building.

Once inside the confined space littered with graffiti that stunk of piss and hard drugs, the young woman gripped the edge of the sink, her knuckles turning white from the force she was exerting as she tried to calm herself. Hitched breath slowly regulated and eventually, the female had gained enough courage to look at the cracked mirror. Chartreuse eyes inspected the smeared crimson across the right side of her face, the clotted blood in her once platinum locks and the grey t-shirt almost exposing her breasts from its gaping.

She felt sick.

Not from what she had done, but from what they had done.

'Nik's gone. They---' Her stomach muscles contracted and the blonde soon found herself hunched over the toilet bowl, throwing up what little contents it had held.

Some minutes later, the blonde slumped down onto her rear amongst the litter and the damp across the peeling linoleum. Drawing her knees up to her chest, the girl tried to bite back a sob. She should still feel the adrenaline wracking her frame as she lowered her head; Her muscles felt unstable.

Breathing out with forced steadiness, the blonde staggered to her feet, holding onto the unsteady sink for support as she went. She needed to get out of there. It was suspicious, she needed an alibi. Unscrewing the tap, Niko scrubbed her face, arms and chest with paper towels. The blistering scrape of the rough tissues stung, but she shouldn't stop. She couldn't. She just stared at herself, her face contorting as images flashed through her head, the tears breaking free and running down her reddened face.

Blocking the plughole with more tissue, Niko filled the sink with enough water to clean her hair. Dunking the matted locks, the girl pumped handwash into her palms and began lathering the mess. The lukewarm water quickly turned red and the female had to refill the sink to make sure all of the blood was off of her.

Around forty minutes of paranoid scrubbing and uncontrollable crying happened in that small room. It was a room just about everybody passing through used, so Niko had to make sure there was no trace of her left in there. Not even a single hair in the plug hole, nor a spray of her vomit on the back of the toilet bowl, nor a footprint left amongst the muck and urine sapped floor.

Finishing up cleaning and flushing the last piece of tissue down the toilet, the blonde wiped the handle down and grabbed her bag. Using her sleeve, Niko opened the door and stepped out into the offset of night.

The air was clear and cool, nothing like the humidity from that morning. Most of the setting was the same as when she had gone into the bathroom; Her car was still parked where it was before and the place was almost empty. Practically running to the duck egg blue truck, the blonde hopped in the driver's side and started the engine.

She had no idea where she was going, but she knew it had to be quite far. Somewhere with a lot of people, but unlikely that many of them would remember her. There was no shopping centres or anything like that open at this time on a Saturday, so that left one place. A bar.
 

Friday - 5:14pm

Niko had drove a couple of miles, just to the outskirts of town where the 'riff-raff' were. This was the territory of bikers and gangsters, but she had no other choice. Changing her clothes in the front seat, the blonde readied herself for the new experience.

She had three months before turning eighteen and she'd never had the chance to go to a bar before. Especially one like this. That's not to say she never drank. During the holidays, she'd spend time with her Uncle Mishka in Los Angeles, where he'd let her drink and behave like an adult at his 'other home'. They got along great because he treated her like a person, not like some kind of child slave.

He found Niko responsible and able to take care of herself. He knew her hardships better than anyone and always offered to give her and her brother Nikita a place to stay, but she would always refuse because she couldn't see the house her mother had made be left to her step father. He knew that the girl needed a break. That was probably the reason why, back during her 16th birthday, her he had given her a fake I.D as a present - Just in case she got the chance to have a night off. And if there was anyone to get a fake I.D from, it was him.

Pushing open the sticky wooden doors, the blonde was soon attacked by the scent of cigarette smoke, musty booze and bike oil. She knew even before she went in there that the place was a rock bar, but now looking at it first hand, she could guess she'd stick out like a sore thumb. Slowly closing the doors, the blonde backed away and jogged around the back and out of sight. Rummaging through her bag, her hand soon found what it was after. Pulling her jeans down and off, the girl held them up to eye level under the scarce light. Flicking open the small hunting knife, the girl made short work of her jeans, cutting the legs off to make them into shorts. Slipping the item back on, she ragged the t-shirt over her head and began modifying that too. Once the neckline was deepened and the bottom half removed, Niko stretched out the top before throwing it back on.

Now appearing a little better, the young woman turned her head upside down and messed the waist length locks. Heaving a breath, Niko composed herself and made another attempt at the bar. She got a few looks from men twice her age, but it only made her feel confident. Holding her head high, the blonde strut towards the bar and took a seat on one of the high stools.

"Whiskey on the rocks." The bartender didn't even seem like he cared that she'd not rushed to get her I.D. After all, Niko had always looked older than she was.

The barman came back with her drink. Wearing a smile, the middle aged man tossed a cloth over his shoulder. "Anythin' else, Sweetheart?"

The young girl thought for a second as she scoured the back shelf. "A pack of Lucky Strike and a light, please."

"Right up." He reached behind him and grabbed what the girl had asked for. As he had held his hand out to give her what she'd ordered, the blonde was holding out the money she owed.

"Thanks." Unwrapping the plastic off the smokes, the blonde began to remember the events from earlier that day. Placing a stick to her mouth, Niko lit the end and took a deep drag.

It was the second time she'd tried smoking and it burned like Hell but she refused to choke and cough. Instead, she had the bright idea of knocking back the whiskey to sooth the pain. A lot of good that did her. The blonde held her breath and gripped the scratched worktop as her eyes scrunched. She tried to take a breath and was assaulted by the burn from both vices. "Jesus Christ on a crutch."

"Miss?"

Looking up with watering eyes, Niko coughed her reply. "Yes?"

"A drink from the guy over there." The barman pointed to the far end of the bar.

"Thanks." She said to the bartender and then tilted her head to see past the others beside her. Once catching a glimpse of who had sent the drink, she nodded her head in appreciation.

Sometime, but not a very long time later, the young man who'd bought Niko a drink revealed himself in person. He wasn't much taller than her, standing around 5'9 ish with wavy mid brown hair just short of his shoulders. His frame was rather narrow for a man, but his leather jacket made him appear somewhat broader.

"Did you enjoy your drink?" He stood beside her, his left arm propping himself up on the bar while his right hand was by his side.

"Yes, thank you." Niko smiled at the unusual encounter. "What was it?"

"Southern Comfort."

"I've never had it before."

"Then how about another?" He flashed her a smile that seemed to make her feel at ease. "The name's Ren." He held his hand out and the blonde accepted it.

"Why not?" She smiled back and Ren held his hand up to call for another round of drinks.

"Barkeep?"

 

Saturday - 3: 16am

Both Niko and Ren had stayed until closing time. The very edge of sunlight was peeking past the horizon and a gentle breeze drifted around. The sound of motorbikes starting up and driving away filled the early morning air.

Running a hand through his hair, Ren staggered out of the establishment. "You got a place to stay?" He asked bleary eyed.

Standing just out of the way of the doorframe, Niko propped herself against the wall and lit a cigarette. "Nope."

Ren joined the younger girl in leaning against the side of the emptying building, his eyes down cast as he lit his own cigarette. "Then you can come to mine." He peeked up to check her expression. "If you want?"

Staring straight ahead, the blonde mumbled as she blew out a cloud of smoke. "Only if it's far from here."

"It's about twenty minutes drive from here."

"Great. Let's go." She pushed herself up and tried to straightened out as she swayed.

"I'll call a cab."

Niko set off walking across the dust covered flatland towards where she'd parked. "I brought a car."

Staggering close behind, Ren laughed at the thought. "You're wasted."

"I can multitask: Be wasted and drive." She waved her arms comically.

"You're crazy."

The female stopped at the driver's door after unlocking it, her eyes down on the dusty floor. "You have no idea."

Ren grinned, oblivious about the female's past. "Then tell me."

"I'd rather not." Without waiting for a reply, the blonde yanked open the truck door and hopped inside.

"You got a secret?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"Touché."

Shifting in her seat yet keeping her line of sight ahead, Niko cleared her throat. "What about you, what are you hiding?"

Not taking the comment too personally, Ren chuckled as he pulled a silver case from his pocket. And from that case, he took a thick rolled up smoke. "I'm sure you'll find out as soon as we get to mine." He lit the end and very quickly, a foreign, pungent scene filled the vehicle.
 

Updated: 30th August 2013 - 14:05