Disclaimer: We don't own Twilight, Jasper and Alice, James or Victoria, we also don't own Concrete Angel; We do, however, own April and The Admiral, and this plot. Kthnxbai.
K: Here you go guys. This is only gonna be a short story so we hope you like it :)
Robs:Alright so I need a big ass warning for this first chapter. This won't be a pretty prologue, it's hard and it will make you cry, but this happens, far too often. This story came from the song Concrete Angel by Martina McBride and something very personal to me. But it really is a love story, not quite as dark and angsty as DaS, but it deals with real things, real emotions and reactions.
Big ups to ms. Mal for betaing this story for us.
Prologue : Martyr.
Prologue : Martyr.
I awoke happily, my fingers tangled in Jasper's golden mane. I carefully removed myself from his arms and went to his bathroom, using the toothbrush Momma Whitlock bought for me and cleaning myself up. He must've noticed I was gone because he burst into the bathroom suddenly and seemed to relax when he saw me.
"Momma's gonna be mad you're only wearing your underwear Jazzy."
He straightened himself out and made himself even taller, "I can walk around like this, I am almost a man." He informed me with all the arrogance an eleven year old boy can muster. I giggled at him. He stood behind me and grabbed his toothbrush too, brushing his teeth as I stood and watched. When he was finished he held out his hand and I took it before we crept back into his room and settled on our sides in his bed.
His eyes glittered their mischief as he pulled me close to him on the bed, these past three years with him as my best friend have been amazing. I don't think I would've lived through them without him. His wide smile danced across his face, he was happy, as he usually was. Nothing could rain on Jasper Whitlock's parade.
"Remember the plan Mary?" He asked, placing his hand on my lower back, he was the only person who could do this that I wouldn't run away from. He was my Jasper and I knew he would never do anything to hurt me. He was my protector.
I nodded, "Go home when Momma leaves, grab my back pack and put the stuff I want to keep in it, crawl out the window, meet you in the backyard. Then we can go off and live like the boxcar children." I smiled at him. That seemed perfect.
He grinned, if it was possible, even wider at me, the dimple very prominent in his cheek as he gazed at me. I blushed a little under his intense gaze. I had a crush on Jasper from the moment I saw him, but I think at first, he pitied me. He shared cupcakes, sandwiches, carrot sticks and apples with me at first, at some point we became friends. Despite how spoiled and immature he was. I ended up with a walkie talkie because he cried to The Admiral about wanting to have a way to talk to me at night.
The Admiral, A.K.A. Jasper's dad. For the longest time I thought I was in love with him. But now I have Jasper, I'll never want anyone else, I am sure of it.
Jasper face grew serious, with just the touch of a smile still playing on his lips as he pulled me closer. I closed my eyes and felt him moving closer until our lips touched. I took a deep breath and wrapped my arm around his waist as he pulled me closer still. We explored each others mouths for a little bit, something we had been doing regularly since around Jasper's birthday.
"Are you sure about this Jazzy?" I asked in almost a whisper, when we broke away. His eyes, so close to mine I could make out every green fleck, the purple outline so evident. I felt his hand on my cheek and leaned into the comfort.
"I am. I never want them to hurt you again Mary. You're mine, forever." He said in his calm voice before he moved forward and kissed me again. It was a simple truth, spoken in a simple way. I slept in his bed every night after James was done touching me, and I tried to spend as much time as I could with him. I was his as much as he was mine. I loved him and he loved me.
We laid there a little longer and stared into each others eyes, at peace. We had to get up and set our plan into motion though.
He tried to not look at me as I got dressed, but I caught him peeking. It was rather awkward, but if we were gonna get married and live together then we had to get over it. I looked out the window and noticed my momma's car was gone, so with one final kiss to Jasper I left for my house.
For the last time.
I opened the front door and was halfway to my room when I heard her, "Where have you been you filthy little whore?"
She wasn't gone.
I turned around slowly and looked at her just as the glass that had been in her hand a few moments before shattered a few inches from my head.
I ran as fast as I could back to the door, but she was faster, she caught me by my arm and jerked me back. The tears started to fall.
"You've been lying about James!" She roared, I shook my head vehemently. I hadn't told anyone, but Jasper, and Jasper wouldn't tell a soul. She pulled my arm, twisting, twisting until I heard a sickening snap the pain hit me with force and made me cry out.
"Don't Momma me you little tramp!" She jerked me again, "You just couldn't let me be happy could you?" She grabbed my other arm and started to shake me, I couldn't think, the pain from my arm was making my stomach churn.
Then she hit me, again and again, not caring whether it was my face, my body or my twisted and broken arm. All the while calling me a whore and telling me how worthless I was. Then she threw me, forcefully into the coffee table, where my head struck the corner. My head throbbed and I put my hand up to it, only to see blood as she came towards me again.
"Jasper…" I moaned, trying desperately to will him to save me somehow. Her foot connected with my stomach making the back of my head hit the leg of the table and everything went black.
---------------------------------------------------Five Years Later----------------------------------------------
I flipped through the various works of art Peter's brother Chucky had done. He had skill and definitely knew his shit. But I was looking for something specific, something for my angel.
The last time I saw Mary was five years ago. She was ten, I was eleven and even though my mom called it puppy love, I meant every word I said to her. I loved her and wanted nothing more then to protect her from her mother and James, to make her happy and to run away together. But I never got the chance.
"So did you figure out what you wanted?" A voice asked from across the room. I looked up to my friend Peter. He looked like he was excited that we were doing this illegally. I smirked at him.
"Yeah, it's nothin' fancy just a simple memorial tat man." I explained as I closed the book.
"Yeah man, but this Mary chick means something to you, enough to be willing to pay my brother that much money." Peter said a little stunned. I heard his brother laugh from the other room.
"One G ain't shit Peter; you were there when I got it." I laughed. My parents were convinced I was gonna corrupt my only friend here in Corpus Christi. I say I'm educating the poor boy.
Peter snorted, "Regardless, I don't know how the hell you managed to wipe the table clean." He shook his head in disbelief over the poker game we played with some of the older boys from school. Peter laughed. "Hey Chucky did I tell you that Dustin got his ass handed to him by Jay?"
Chuck came out from the other room. His eyebrow raised in question. "Dustin, that the kid that missed graduation twice?"
Peter fell off his chair laughing as Chucky motioned for me to come over to the chair he had set up. I pulled my shirt off and sat backwards for him.
"Memorial tat with the name and dates you gave me?" Chucky asked.
"Don't call me 'sir' Jay. I'm only four years older then you." He said as he got his gun ready.
I laughed, "Yeah, but The Admiral told me to respect my elders."
"Watch it or you're gonna get a pretty princess crown." Chucky threatened as he started to work. I felt the little zaps of the needle as it punctured the skin at my shoulder. It tickled, hurt and felt fucking great all at once.
"You wanted midnight blue for the name and date right?" Chucky asked.
"Yeah, to match her eyes," I said softly, closing my eyes and smiling at the thought of her yelling at me for doing something to piss my dad off. He never hurt me the way her parents did. No, his punishments were things like six by six holes in the back yard, or twenty push-ups depending on what it was I did.
"Jesus," I heard Chucky mutter.
"What?" Peter asked. It sounded as if he was watching Chucky cause his voice came from behind me.
"Look at the dates, she was only ten." Chucky explained, pausing to wipe off my shoulder before the stinging started again.
"What happened Jay?" Peter asked. I could hear the sympathy in his voice. She wouldn't want pity.
"I wish I knew."
"Who was she?" Chucky asked.
"Mary was my… girl. My angel, she was everything to me."
"Dude, you were what? Eleven then?" Peter asked, clearly confused at my declaration.
"Peter, you told us when you were four you were going to marry Charlotte." Chucky laughed.
"I did not!" Peter defended as I tried to keep from laughing.
"It's hard to explain really. I mean that first day I met her and gave her one of my cupcakes; that smile she gave me…" I shook my head. "I was a goner. All I ever wanted was to see that smile. Hell, I even put up with her crush on my dad just because she would smile at him." I could hear the guys laugh.
"What else man?" Peter asked, pulling a chair up by me.
So I told them our tale, the tale of the navy brat and the shy, scared girl. I told them how I knew from the first day we met there was something wrong at home. She always asked me why I would want to be her friend, that she was broken and nothing special. And I tried like hell to prove to her that she was special and if anything, life without her was broken.
I'll admit at first I didn't know what was going on and I didn't want to pry. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. Even though when we met she was eight years old, she was so small that people thought she was younger.
I remember asking my mom if it was normal for girls to wear sweaters and jeans on hotter days. Mom had said not unless you're hiding something, that just added to my need to protect her.
When she finally told me what was happening I didn't believe her at first. I guess I was biased, being that my parents never yelled derogatory remarks or raised a hand to me that wasn't called for.
She started spending more time with me at my house, slowly breaking out of her shell when she was with me. She began to be this vibrant little thing with endless energy. Her laugh sounded better than the wind chimes my mom collected, her smile prettier then the best dress mom would wear. When she would leave to go home, I felt like I couldn't breathe right until I would see her the following morning where we would walk to school hand in hand.
Finally mom gave me a name to my feelings. I had a crush. But I think it was more then that. Because I saw it in her eyes too, she felt what I was feeling. She knew I was hers, always. Dad was right. I remember him saying that it wasn't a crush, it was love. I loved Mary, more then I thought possible.
We tried to do everything together. Even at night we tried to talk. One of the perks of us being neighbors was that her window was across from mine. I remember we tried to make a phone system out of empty vegetable cans and left over string from mom's laundry line. And when we tested it, I swear it worked! But that night I couldn't hear her and I cried. Yeah I'll admit it. I cried like a bitch to my parents because I had promised to protect her and keep her company at all times and I failed. So dad went and got us walkie talkies. For the first week everything seemed fine. I would sing her songs and she would read me books. And every night as she fell asleep first she would tell me she loved me.
But then it happened. James came in. I had just finished reading my batman comic book to her when I heard a whimper. I heard his voice and knew not to say anything back. But to hear what he did to her. The way he made her cry in pain and beg for him to stop made me sick and angry all at once. And all I could do was lay there in my bed and cry because I couldn't help her.
That's when she started staying over. After that night she climbed into my room and my bed. She grabbed Jeffy my teddy bear and curled up into a ball and cried. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to tell my mom but she made me swear that I wouldn't.
We became inseparable. So much so that when my dad had things to do to at the base that the family needed to attend, she was there and often introduced as their daughter. I didn't want her as a sister. She was mine, always; so much so that I asked her to marry me.
I'll never forget that day we went to the commissary with mom. I used the fifty cents mom gave me for candy to buy a ring from the machine. I told Mary that one day we were gonna be like my mom and dad. Happy and dancing to Dire Straits in the kitchen, just because we wanted to; that we would have pancake fights and get sick together from eating one too many Rocky Road Brownies.
From that day forward, I saved up every cent I earned in chores and tucked it away in the old coffee can Mary decorated for us. We were gonna run away together and be happy and not worry about a thing ever again.
That was the plan on June 3rd. I kissed her goodbye and waited for her to come back so we could leave. I had the note to my parents on the fridge saying that Mary and I were safe and happy and that we loved them and would see them when the train brings us back.
But she never came back to me.
I remember sitting on the porch when the flashing of red and blue pulled into the driveway next door. I watched as they knocked on the door and heard Mary's mom telling them to leave, that they had no right to come over. I could hear my dad telling me to come back to the porch. I hadn't even realized I walked away. All I could think about was finding out why the cops were scrambling on their walkie talkies. I had a bad feeling and I had to know I was wrong
Then the ambulance came, and I watched as they ran in with a stretcher. I tried to run to Mary, I knew it wasn't good. I knew she needed me, but I couldn't move. My mom held me in place trying to calm me down as I screamed for Mary. Then they pulled the stretcher out, the image is forever burned in my memory.
Mary's little frame was over shadowed by the huge bed on wheels. Her body covered on a sheet as the paramedics barked orders at each other. I could see the blood staining the sheet.
Suddenly I was on the ground sobbing and watching as my father held my mother tightly as she kicked the ground and screamed at James and Victoria, blaming them for everything. But it didn't matter anymore cause Mary was gone. Tucked away in the back of the ambulance, her eyes closed and the blood every where. My angel was gone.
"Oh man," Peter said softly, pulling me out of the past. "So she died that night huh?"
I nodded, "I asked my mom about her the next day. She had gone to the hospital to check on her and when she came home she was crying and told me that she was in a happier place now. You know the same shit they tell you when they put your dog down?"
"Tell me what you think," I heard Chucky say as he handed me a mirror. I stood with my back to the mirrored wall and inspected the new ink on my left shoulder, her shoulder. Chucky had done an excellent job putting her name and dates on a black scroll, written in the blue; but he had added angel wings to it, shading it in slightly with the blue.
"It's perfect." Just like Mary.
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