Purity

"I can't believe you're leaving," My long time best friend Blu Downy whined for the 7th time today, I had previously ignored her comments because I had been on the phone non-stop, making plans I should of made weeks ago. However now I had no such excuse.
"Blu, you and I both know I was bound to leave sooner or later," I sighed, rolling over on my large rainbow beach towel. The sun warming my back gratefully. I propped myself up on my elbows, turning to grin at her. "Besides at least now when you take the next trip to New York you won't have to pay for a hotel," Blu laughed, rolling on her side. She was extremely tall so her feet were off the edge of her towel kicking up sand.
"I'm gunna miss you Thorn," She sulked, pulling out my over used childhood nickname. My mother had been quite the activist and insisted on naming me Rose with a middle name of thorn, it could have been worse my cousin is thoughtfully named Oak. But in middle school I thought the name Thorn was the coolest thing ever and insisted on everyone calling me that, now it kinda stuck.
I looked up at Blu, she had her bottom lip puckered out like a small child. I laughed rolling my eyes. "Besides New York doesn't have beaches like LA," she continued. An argument she'd made very clear ever since I told her.
"I know, but LA doesn't have NYU," I sarcastically sighed, beginning to get up. I was supposed to be on a flight in a few hours but Blu had insisted on one last morning surf. "Come on, its 9:00 I've got to go," I smiled. Blu checked the time on her phone in shock. I could see tears begin to well in her eye as she stood up defeated. My eyes softened, "oh come here," I cooed wrapping my arms around her.
"Don't forget me Rose," she pleaded as we broke away. The look on her face heart breaking. I felt guilty for leaving her, even if she was being over dramatic.
"I promise Blueberry," I smiled softly, wrapping up my towel and heading for the car park. Blu trailing behind. "Besides at least you get my board," I laughed, placing my well-loved surf board on the rack of her car rather than mine. she mumbled an incoherent thanks. I knew that's all I'd get from her until I was in New York where she'd call excited about all the possible travel plans. I sighed waving as I got into my car and drove to the airport. I rolled the window down and turned on my over played Oceania CD. Smashing pumpkins in my opinion being one of the best driving soundtracks. I breathed in the Los Angeles air for one last time. I never wanted to come back if it could be helped, to many memories. My father had called a total of 3 times, to which I ignored. I was incredibly thankful he gave up quickly. I'd made it very clear I wanted nothing to do with him any more.
The airport suddenly came into view and I breathed a sigh of relief, glad I didn't have time to continue that train of thought. I had planned on getting my car delivered however that cost a ridiculous sum of money that I did not have, so instead my beloved crappy old bright blue Ute was getting picked up to be put as scrap.
I spent about 15 painful minutes trying to find a car park and then quickly jumped out of the car, attempting to appreciate my last hour in LA. My hair was still incredibly wet and sandy. I groaned, quickly tying up the long blonde mop into a half hearted bun. The one surprisingly small bright blue suitcase (a colour I'd picked out to make sure I'd never get it lost) I own was full to the brim and sufficiently heavy when I began to drag it behind me. I'd decided to bring only a small amount of items because I'd intended on NYU to be a fresh start, so with me I had one carry on bag with my wallet and a small collection of books. My suitcase fit as much clothes as I could possibly managed to sit on. That was it. The airport itself was full of serious looking business people, buzzing around urgently through the sterile white halls. For some reason airports always reminded me of hospitals and in turn made me extremely uncomfortable. But despite the blindingly white walls I continued to Gate 6 and waited for only a few moments before my flight was called to board. I reluctantly handed my suitcase to the attendant and joined the line of travellers filing into the giant metal bird. In front of me was a middle-aged woman lovingly hugging a little girl who look so similar it was undoubtedly her kid. The little girl was struggling to keep her eyes open. Her long lashes constantly fluttering like a restless butterfly. I quickly looked at my feet realising I was randomly admiring some poor woman’s kid.
"D5 Miss," A tired looking flight attendant smiled at me, pointing towards the entrance to the plan as if I hadn’t seen it. Yes I was fully intending on running into the wall. I bit my tongue and smiled politely, shuffling towards my over-priced plane seat. Intentionally I had not chosen a window seat, not wanting to have to walk over people on the unlikely chance I needed to get up. To my luck the seat next to me was already filled to avoid the awkward climbing on top situation. The boy next to me was completely oblivious to me sitting down. His attention entirely on a leather bound book. His thick glasses falling down slightly at the bridge of his nose. The boy was quite attractive, his navy blue T-shirt hugging his muscular figure. His skin was quite pale which made me think he didn't come from LA and this was purely a connecting flight. I began to attempt to get comfortable in my seat, slightly envious of the boy for having the ability to settle in so quickly. Eagerly I grabbed out one of my favourite poetry books, flipping through it with my seatbelt on, attempting to distract myself from over thinking about the plane taking off. I wasn’t scared per say but take off always made me nervous , no normal person should feel comfortable being jerked around that much. Eventually after and excruciatingly long time the ok was given to take off the seatbelts. I sighed relaxing slightly, finally being capable of concentrating on my book.
“I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel absurd.” a charming voice from beside me recites, while literally touching my worn copy of 'Howl and Other poems'. I looked up with a mixture of surprise and joy.
"You know Ginsberg?" I ask slightly hushed, self concious of the other passengers listening in. The boy laughed, exposing a pair of dimples that seemed to be etched into his face.
"I intend on majoring in literacy, so you'd want to hope. Besides Allen Ginsberg is a legend," He shrugged as if it were obvious. I nodded in agreement smiling. It wasn't every day you met someone who could recite your favourite poet.
"Where are you studying?" I silently hoped he'd say NYU, not only because he seemed nice but it'd be a lot easier if I knew someone.
"NYU," he grinned proudly reading my mind. I thanked every god I could think of at that moment.
"Oh wow, so am I," I said as casually as possible. "Rose Williams by the way," I offered my hand.
"Ezra Jones," I expected him to shake my hand but instead he kissed it sweetly, "A rose by any name would smell as sweet," he winked and I rolled my eyes.
"You really are a Literacy major," I laughed. Ezra quickly joined in.
"What are you intending on doing for your major?" He asked, his eyebrow raising slightly. A talent I never seemed to grasp.
"Art," I shrugged. Ezra s eyes widened in awe, he was so easily impressed.
"That’s awesome, I can't draw to save my life I assure you ." I laughed at his comment, an automatic response. Every time I had ever told someone I draw or paint or anything along those lines, they would make a comment about their inability to do just that. I believe its supposed to be a form of compliment, heightening a talent because other people are unable to achieve it, but I always found it a pointless remark.
"Would either of you like a pillow?" An attendant ask, plastering a stereotypical fake smile on her face that did not reach her eyes. Ezra smiled politely.
"Yes thanks," He seemed slightly relieved he could get some sleep on top of that Ezra apparently was one of those people that could fall asleep with ease in any position, because as soon as his head hit the pillow he was out like a light. I had no such blessing. So instead I settled for resting my eyes and running through my plan once we landed.
My intentions were to directly take a cab to the small house I had bought a few weeks ago because it was incredibly cheap and only about 20 minutes away from the Uni. I had absolutely no furniture so I'd brought a sleeping bag for the first night. It had been extremely handy that my mother had began a college fund for me in attempt to compensate for her leaving her six year old daughter with a drunk for a father. She'd called me for the first time last year to let me know she had it and she was transferring the money to me because she didn’t want to pay for it any more. It was quite a short phone call, however it was something of a blessing to know she still remembered me. My father had no such reunion. My mother, or my Uterus donor as I lovingly called her in my teen years, did not so much as ask me how her ex-husband or myself were doing, however it was the closest thing to an actual conversation I have had with a family member since I was 6. The money she had saved was quite large so I'd have some time to search for a job before money was a problem, which made starting up a little easier. That being said I hadn’t exactly bought a house in a nice area. I was beyond anxious about the neighbourhood I'd find when I eventually got there.
My eyes strayed down to my open book and I began to read it again, hoping it would make me less restless. It worked because next thing I know I'm being tapped awake. I groaned, rubbing my eyes.
“Sorry to wake you, but we're about to land.” Ezra hesitantly whispered. I laughed half-heartedly.
“s'okay. Thanks,” I all but yawned, leaning down to place my book back in the bag. Ezra just grinned as he watched through the small aeroplane window. We landed with only slight turbulence to my relief and soon the call was made for us all to begin shuffling off. I passed the attendant, flashing her a small smile as she pointed again to the exit, with an overly enthusiastic
“Welcome to the Big Apple,” That’s when I took my first step of freedom. I could only imagine it was the most symbolic step out of an aeroplane as of yet, without being dramatic. However there wasn't much time to savour it as I was being pushed along by the crowd. I glanced behind me to make sure Ezra was still on my tail. I'd intended on grabbing his number before I left so we could meet up before class. Sure enough he was still there, flashing a bright smile when he caught my eye. We both weaved around the halls of people until we were out of the crowd. I wiped around to face him.
“Ezra, mind if we exchange phone numbers so that way we could meet before class or something? Get some coffee?” I suggested. Ezra s eyes widened in realisation.
“Of course! I didn't think of that, that would be amazing.” He grinned, digging into his pocket. “Here swap phones,” He held his hand out, passing me his phone. I mimicked his motion, handing him my own. Ezra s background was a snapshot of himself and another rather attractive guy locked in an embrace, their eyes staring into each others. A rather intimate action. All the hot ones are gay. I laughed to myself, adding my contact into his phone. He finished just as I lifted my head up and we swapped back.
“Okay, well I guess I'll call you tomorrow morning.” I smiled as we both picked out suitcases up. Ezra nodded in agreement. We said our short goodbyes and parted ways. I vigorously walked out of the airport, desperate to escape the hospital like atmosphere. I was instantly hit with a cold breeze as I stepped out onto the street. Luckily there were tons of cabs eagerly waiting for a traveller to suck their wallets dry. I slid into one grateful for the heat.
“Where to Miss?” The driver asked with a strong Brooklyn accent.
“George Avenue,” I directed, settling into the leather back-seat as I began to watch the city of lights fly past.
The cab driver had made me pay extra for making him drive threw this part of town which made me nervous. Luckily I was only borderline the unusually long and dark street. George Avenue was really an X in the middle of New York like a mistake someone lazily crossed out rather than making the effort to erase it completely. Looking around that description seemed to fit perfectly. In every direction there were over-sized shoe boxes placed neatly in rows, some with chipping paint, others with smashed windows. Looking up my little shoe box was no exception, but I had expected this when I bought it for such a cheap price. I had been determine to own my own home rather then renting and this had been my only option. It had a charm to it. The small house showed exposed brick work with long dead, unidentifiable plants lining its sides. I made a mental note to weed those as soon as I could.
My suitcase jumped a few times across the cracks of the driveway as I dragged it behind me. It wasn’t much better inside. The inside was made up of one reasonable size living room with a connecting kitchen only separated by a wooden breakfast bar. To the right of that was a small hallway with three door I could only assume was the bedroom, bathroom and study the real estate agent had informed me about previously. The living room and hallway walls were painted in a colour that once might have been white but had not faded to a depressing grey with the odd yellow tobacco stain here and there, a result from the former owners. Directly in front of me was a rather large window giving a full view of a backyard that was roughly the same size as my beloved Ute back home. Despite the disappointing standard of the house I was still ecstatic to actually own my own place. I eagerly headed towards the hallway, getting lucky by picking the bedroom first go. It was also reasonably standard, with identical coloured walls and a rather small window showing off the side fence. The room itself looked a lot bigger which was caused by the wardrobe that took up a whole wall an was completely covered in mirrors. The floor mimicked the rest of the room with its dark floorboards that felt like they were going to splinter at any second. I gratefully dropped my suitcase at the door and continued to explore the other two rooms. The door directly across from the bedroom hid a cupboard sized bathroom. With black tiled floors and white tiled walls. It became blatantly obvious that not only the tiny corner shower but the toilet and basin were all either rusty or yellowing.
The study was what made me want the place. It wasn’t some magical room where all my ideas would come to me in a moment, it was an even smaller version of the living room. But it had the potential to be a haven. I had a whole room just for art stuff, a huge contrast to the small shoebox I'd used to hide under my bed when I was younger in fear my father would come in my room looking for more things to break.
I shook my head at the memory, moving back to the bedroom to begin the process of unpacking. My fingers slid against the old wooden floorboards as I sat down next to my suitcase and began refolding my poorly packed clothes in piles, leaving out a pair black skinny jeans and a white flowery tank top for the first day of uni. It was the middle of October, so the weather was nice but had a tendency to throw an icy breeze at you unexpectedly. Most of my clothing comprised of tops, then I had two worn pairs of skinny jeans and a pair of denim shorts. I really needed to go shopping.
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a harsh knock of the door. I jump slightly, the noise taking me off guard as I hadn't expected visitors of any kind. I hesitantly walked towards the old door, that at that moment looked as fragile as a toothpick. I'd prepared myself for the worst when I eventually opened the door.
I was greeted by a tall man who looked in his mid 20s and had an afro twice the size of his head, wearing a slightly defensive face that instantly softened when he took in my appearance. I wasn't exactly sure why he was so wary until a girl who looked only slightly older than me, with deep red hair and huge green eyes, popped out from behind him. The girl was holding a small child with matching green eyes so I could only presume it was hers.
“Hello,” I greeted timidly. A soft smile fell upon the rather rough man, however it was the fire haired girl who spoke.
“Hey, we just wanted to welcome the new neighbour. Are we interrupting?” She beamed in a rather husky voice.
“Oh no, come in. Apologise for the lack of furniture, its just me so I haven't had time to shop.” I opened the door wider gesturing for the two (and a half) to come in. “I'm Rose by the way, Rose Benson”
“Oh of course, I'm Stacy, this is my husband Ray and this little hell raiser is Sanity” Stacy gestured towards her small family.
“We live just across the street,” Ray added humbly.
The two seemed to be the sweetest couple I'd seen in quite a while. LA was full of plastic relationships that had no feeling to them, and they were in the best of circumstances, however here in the mistake of New York lay a couple of totally in love kids despite it all. It was a breath of fresh air.
The three of us chatted mindlessly for a few hours, until one of us pointed out the time and Sanity became restless. I walked the little family to the door, realising how dark it actually was.
“It was great meeting you Rose,” Stacy smiled warmly, pulling me into a tight hug after passing Sanity to Ray. Ray laughed slightly, waving goodbye. I watched them quickly cross the street to their little house. Admiring their little family. Shutting the door, the house seem oddly quiet after the chatter that had previously filled the room. I decided to get some sleep. It was rather late and I was supposed to be at NYU by 7:00am. My feet seemed to drag slightly as I headed to the bedroom to grab my sleeping bag, unrolling it and placing it against the wall. I made a mental note to buy a mattress tomorrow when I finish. I gratefully slipped into the warm sleeping bag and almost instantaneously let sleep take over.

Notes

First Chapter woo. I don't think Im gunna do these authors notes that much cause Im really awkward however Im creating some what of a soundtrack containing songs I find fitting or songs I had on repeat when writings it. This chapter the song is

Whatsername - Green Day


- Your fellow killjoy, Battery Revenge xxx