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~Rock Bottom~


It's true, that there's a flip side to every coin.

The place was dingy, and smelled awful. From wall to peeling wall it was packed with people; some standing, some sitting, and some sprawled on the moldy carpet. And nearly all were drunk. All in all, it was a prime example of what Gambino had to offer in way of homeless shelters.

Naien wrinkled her nose in disgust. She loathed being this desperate, but not even she was willing to spend an entire night out in the rain. With that thought in mind, she squared her shoulders and started shoving her way through the crowd. Past drunks and druggies, a large group in a corner who were playing some convoluted version of "spin the bottle", and a mother-daughter pair who looked sorely out of place huddled together against a wall, the child clutching something fuzzy and white, a toy of some sort.

Sometimes, it's hard to remember which side you belong on.

Maybe, on a different day, in a different place, she'd have spoken to some of them. But as it was, she tuned the crowd out as much as she was able, and shoved her way towards the staircase in the back of the room. It was a bit too much to hope for that the upper floor would be any less dilapidated than this one, but she was hoping that it was at least a bit less crowded.

It was, if possible, even worse off than the main floor. Lumpy, moth-eaten beds occupied most of the room, and the floor was covered in broken and half-empty bottles. But it was less crowded, if only by a little. She crossed the room fairly quickly, her boot-clad feet in little danger from the smashed glass littering the floor.

And sometimes, you just wish that you could be anywhere but where you are.

It was really her own fault for not paying attention. But that didn't lessen the shock, as a pair of large hands suddenly pressed against her back and shoved her to the floor. A pained expression crossed her face as the sharp slivers of glass dug into her bare knees and palms, and she drew in a sharp, hissing breath through her teeth. Slowly, she sat back on her heels, taking care not to aggravate her injuries.

A rather hoarse, drunken voice spoke up behind her, slurring heavily. "Heyhey now, sweetheart. Don't be in no hurry to get up, I'm much enjoyin' the view." He gave a lewd chuckle.

She glanced briefly over her shoulder at the man and snarled, lip rising to show a glimpse of fangs. "Get away from me, you creep."

Before she could stand up and turn to face the man, he shoved her to the ground again. Pain raced up her arms as her palms slammed into the floor for the second time in as many minutes. She screwed her eyes shut tightly against the few pain-induced tears that threatened to fall, and cursed silently. 'I'm getting really sick of this s**t. To whatever god is up there laughing at me; go ******** yourself.' She drew in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, and slowly closed her hand around the neck of a bottle left laying beside her, hissing as the slivers of glass were pressed deeper into her palm.

She jerked away automatically when the man grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet, stumbling to put a few feet between herself and her harasser. He moved to follow, laughing drunkenly. "Now now, dun be like that. All I be wantin' is a good time." Another vile chuckle, and her reached to grab her arm again.

That was the breaking point. "Damnit, I said get the hell away from me!" In a single, fluid motion she spun towards him and let the bottle fly. It missed the man's head by mere inches, and smashed noisily against the opposite wall.

Head bowed and breathing harshly, her murderous gaze swept the room from behind dark, disheveled bangs. Most of the room's occupants, Naien's tormentor included, were still sober enough to value their own safety, and lost no time in disappearing down the stairs. Of the few who remained in the room, most were passed out on either the beds or the floor, dead to the world.

Naien's fury dissipated quickly, along with most of her energy. She dragged herself over to the corner farthest from the stairs and braced herself against the wall with an elbow as she swept a small area free of glass with her foot. Satisfied that she could sit without further injury, she sagged into the corner and let herself slide down the wall, until she was concealed from the room by the empty bed that sat on her other side.

For several minutes, she simply lay there, flopped ungracefully in the corner, taking in deep breaths. Eventually, she sat up slightly and then, very carefully, began to pull the glass out of her palms and knees. The pain made her bite her lip until it bled, but still she continued, feeling a slight pang of satisfaction every time she tossed aside one of the bloody shards.

Eventually, she finally pulled the last sliver of glass from her wounds, and grinned despite herself. Sagging once again into the corner, she shut her eyes and let herself relax as much as she was able, trying not to think too much on the evening's events.

Had she taken a closer look at the glass littering the floor by her feet, she might have noticed that one shard definitely hadn't been a piece of a bottle. She might have found that odd, and taken a closer look at it. She might even have found it pretty and slipped it into a pocket, for safekeeping, or to look at later. But as it was, none of these happened, and she drifted quietly off to sleep, curled uncomfortably in the corner.

Fate will just have to wait until tomorrow, I suppose.

Fate came rather impatiently that moment. Perhaps rabbits just weren't the most patient of animals. Perhaps children were equally impatient. Perhaps, when one's mind was so young, impatience was the only virtue one could hold onto and savor until it was time to mature. Today was not a day to mature. Today was simply a day to begin.

Four seconds. The little shard of glass that Naien's eyes caught a glimpse of shimmered for four seconds, before it was gone. No long pause as the soul within weighed it's options, or took it's time trying to figure a way out. No, the shard only shimmered for four seconds. It wasn't even nearly enough for a coherent thought.

Then again, those so young often mocked the importance of coherent thought.

Swaddled in a little bundle at Naien's feet was the child's bunny. Had it gotten away again? Or was this not Bun-Bun at all? Nevertheless, when her eyes re-focused she would soon notice the little bunny child at her feet, sleeping contently.

It was good to just be alive.