Chapter 6
Ash
I should feel degraded, except I don’t. I almost feel empowered. Like I can take on the world after what he did to me. I should be ashamed, yet strangely, I’m not. I know deep down I’ll regret doing that. I know if my dad finds out what I did, he’ll beat me until I can’t walk for my sins.
It’s been a few days and no one seems to notice the strange tension between me and Tristan. We had a family dinner that, of course, Tristan made uncomfortable for me.
Now, I’m intrigued more than anything. I walk down the stairs to find him much the same as the last time, painting.
“What’s that?” He quickly turns to look at me, blocking his painting from my sight.
“None of your concern.”
“Who’s your favorite painter?” I ask, hoping to gain some insight into Tristan because he’s very closed off.
“Again, none of your business.”
“I study art in college. I want to teach,” I tell him, praying that maybe he’ll join the conversation.
“Teach?”
“Yeah, art classes for kids. That’s my dream.”
“That’s a bullshit dream, Little Nun. You can do more than that.”
“Such as?”
“Be my little whore. On your knees praying to me every night,” he says, his eyes as black as coal. I can feel the heat in my cheeks, and I know he can see it.
“There’s nothing wrong with my dream. Don’t you have dreams?”
“No. I have nightmares.”
“Can I look at your paintings?”
“Listen, I don’t know what the fuck you’re trying to do here but stop. We’re not the same, Ash. We don’t have the same fucking interests or the same goals here. Whatever you’re thinking … don’t.”
“I want more.”
“More what?”
“Out of life, Tristan. I feel like I’ve been locked in a cage my whole life and know nothing about the real world.”
“You don’t know shit about the real world. You’re right about that,” Tristan confirms as he runs his hand through his hair.
“I just want to learn more.”
“Then ask your dad.” He dismisses me, turning his back on me, and that makes me angry. I don’t know why I want Tristan to show me his world so badly, but I do.
“I have shit to do,” he says before grabbing a shirt and walking up the stairs. I follow him up the stairs and outside, where he jumps on his bike. I climb into my car, and I follow him. I don’t know why I’m doing this or what’s going to happen, but I just want to live in the moment. His moment.
He takes a ton of turns, stops at a few places, and I wait it out to see what he’s doing, but he always comes back with nothing. I have no idea what he’s doing in there but I want to know.
I wasn’t lying when I said I was sheltered my whole life. All I know is what the Bible says and what it teaches or what my dad says to me.
I shift in my seat and wince at the pain in my back where I was hit with a stick for not following the rules, and I go back to what Tristan said that day. Did I really deserve that? Is that what the bible is telling him to do to me? Why? What did I do that was so bad? I was exploring life a little more than I usually do.
I find myself losing track of Tristan since he’s on his bike and driving faster than me so I pull over at a store downtown and climb out. I walk inside and I know right away that this isn’t the type of store I should be in. Nothing in here is remotely close to what I wear, but the more I look around, the more intrigued I become.
“Can I help you ?” A small girl with pink hair walks over and asks me. I smile, loving how it looks on her.
“I like your hair.”
“Thanks. Did you need something?” she asks as she looks me up and down.
“If I was looking for something different than what I have on, what would you suggest?” She eyes me once more before smiling.
“Basically, anything in the store, but I’m assuming you don’t want to go too crazy, right?”
“Exactly.”
“Come with me.” I follow her through the store as she grabs a pair of jeans with a few tiny rips in them and a black t-shirt. Then she leads me to the changing room, where she places the clothes on the hook.
“They should fit. If not, let me know,” she tells me as I step in and pull the curtain closed. I hurriedly pull off my long skirt and shirt and slide into the jeans. I’ve never worn a pair of jeans before. Ever. Not as far back as I can remember. Having them on feels different, and I like it. I turn to face the mirror and a tear slides down my cheek.
“This is going against God, isn’t it?” I ask more to myself.
“No, it’s not.” The curtain pulls back, and the girl steps in and looks at me. “You’re super religious?”
“I was raised that way. I’ve never worn jeans,” I admit as she reaches up and wipes the tear from my cheek.
“I was raised that way too. I let it all go a long time ago. I’m happy now. I have a life that isn’t dictated by them. I still believe in God but I don’t have to live my life by their rules.”
“You still believe?”
“Yeah. I’m not insane. I just found what worked for me,” she laughs.
“How much for the clothes?”
“Those are on me. Come back when you want more, and I’ll hook you up. I’m Cher.”
“I’m Ash. Thank you so much for this.”
“Anytime you want to talk. When you’re ready, I’ll give you my number.” She smiles at me before stepping out of the dressing room and leaving me alone to gather my thoughts. I gather my clothes and head to the register, where she gives me a bag for my old ones and her number. As I walk out of the store, a new sense of confidence engulfs me. I’ve never felt like this. Never had this much self-esteem. I think I like it.
I hop back in the car and just drive around with a huge smile on my face. I’m sure if anyone saw me, they would think I was crazy, but I don’t care right now. I’m living in the moment.
Taking the risk, I drive over to where I saw Tristan at that warehouse, but I don’t see his bike. I park the car and climb out, heading to the door to see if it’s unlocked, and strangely, it is. I step inside, close the door behind me, and start to wander.
Just like at home, the walls are black, and there are paintings hung everywhere. Mostly of fallen angels, which intrigues me.
I keep looking around until I hear him clear his throat.