I Don't Know How To Love Her (Mimi)

[isaac]

The wind blew strong and almost constantly, and the heavy grey skies threatened rain. Outside the Nightingale performance hall, the streets were nearly empty. It was passing seven o'clock, and it was the last performance for the night. The sky was darkening quickly, and a trio of young men were already hurring out and igniting the street lamps. Isaac watched them with emotionless eyes. He stood on the side of the theater, leaning against the wall of a neighboring building, opposite the door marked STAGE DOOR. Waiting. For what? He knew. But then, he didn't know.

His head was a whirl. He hadn't felt his heart hammer this fast in his chest since...for a long time. He thought of her, her face and her eyes, her voice. His stomach seemed to twist and drop. He knew how he felt. What else was there to call it? He thought he could never, ever...love...someone. Love. No. Yes. Wait. No. Yes. He was sure. So sure is scared him.

I don't know how to love her,
What to do, how to move her.
I've been changed, yes really changed.
In these past few days when I've seen myself,
I seem like someone else.

She had talked to him in a way that no one had ever spoken to him before in his entire life. It was almost as if she understood. Even though she didn't know, didn't know why he was even in New York and why he couldn't come to terms with himself, she almost made it seem like she did know. But if she did know, she hadn't reacted. So she couldn't know. Otherwise she would hate him. She didn't hate him. And that was why he was standing here now, both knowing why he was here and wondering what the hell he was doing. For everything that he was, for everything he saw himself as, she didn't hate him. She didn't know...but he had hope. For once he had the slight glimmer of hope that he could tell someone what he'd done, what he was...and they wouldn't hate him. But, oh, for God's sake...

I don't know how to take this...
I don't see why she moves me.
She's a girl. She's just a girl...
She's just one more.

If only he knew more about love. No one had ever shown him love, and he had never known it for himself. Now...well, what else could it be? What else would compel him to stand outside the stage door for hours and wait for the performers to emerge so he could see her again? He needed her. He needed to know he wasn't alone. That he wasn't a monster.

I never thought I'd come to this.
What's this all about?
Yet, if she said she loved me,
I'd be lost, I'd be frightened.
I couldn't cope, just couldn't cope.
I'd turn my head, I'd back away.
I wouldn't want to know.
She scares me so.
I want her so...

I love her so...

The stage door pulsed open.

[Mimi]

The performance that night didn't go exactly as Mimi had planned. And when a performance went wrong it made her mood suffer, she snapped and barked at the other girls. If someone took a ribbon, or a curler, so help them God. Mimi would bite their heads off.

She stormed into the dressing room and got out of her costume, she wanted to go home and not be bothered. She angrily pulled ribbons out of her hair, along with some hair, and threw them away. She didn't care where they landed, they could land in someone's face for all she cared.

Of course a few of the girls were concerned, they asked "Mimi, are you okay?", "Mimi, what's wrong?", and other annoying questions. She would just turn around and yell, "I'm fine!" and storm off.

Mimi grabbed her street dress and put it on, smoothing out the wrinkles when she buttoned it. She grabbed her ratty, old coat, her gloves that were so worn they didn't have fingertips, and her scarf. It was getting colder by the day it seemed, but it was her favorite time of year so she couldn't complain. She loved the cold.

She pulled on her outerwear as she walked down the hallway to the door that led to the streets. She opened the door, and walked out into the crisp air. Mimi grinned, she could feel the past feelings of hatred towards the performance slip away as the air soothed her.

Mimi turned and saw someone familiar, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark before she recognized the person. It was Issac, she smiled, she met him in Midtown a while ago. He was the one who put the rumors about the place to rest. "Issac! Is that you?" She said, coming closer to the figure. Of course she was excited to see him, she enjoyed his company. He really wasn't as bad of a guy as his exterior made him appear as, somewhere inside him there was a nice guy. She knew it, there had to be...

[isaac]

"Issac! Is that you?"

He glanced up, and his breath caught in his throat. He decided he was glad he hadn't been smoking, otherwise he would be coughing at this point. He met her eyes, and was surprised by how pleased she seemed to see him. It was strange, to actually have someone pleased to see him. Hell, it was strange to have someone even acknowledged him. Usually he did his best to blend in with the woodwork; try to fade against whatever wall he stood near, and usually people didn't notice him. Everything about this was strange. And yet he was starting to realize more and more that however strange it was, it was everything he had ever wanted.

"Yes," he said laconically. "Evening, Mimi..." He walked to her and took her hand in an awkward kind of handshake. "Perform well tonight?" He was useless at conversation, but it was made even harder with her, because he knew he would completely fall over himself if she did...well, anything. She had him unnerved as soon as she stepped out the door. Should I speak of love? Let my feelings out? Not now, you loon, he scolded himself, as sanely as possible as it was to scold oneself. He knew he should wait. For what, he wasn't sure. Maybe some kind of hint. A hint from her, however subtle, to let him know that he wasn't crazy for feeling all this. He also felt as if he needed to talk to her again...

He swallowed and said, "I wanted to see you." He didn't know how difficult it could be to form words. But soon he knew he would have no fear. Soon...soon...he could tell her he loved her.

[Mimi]

"Evening, Mimi...Perform well tonight?"

Mimi sighed, "No, something got messed up during the performance. Whenever something goes wrong, especially during a performance it almost ruins my day." She frowned, and put her hands into her coat pockets. "But, I'll live. Its just one messed up performance." She said, as she tried to force out a laugh.

Hopefully he wouldn't think she was some pathetic kid who cried because of their performance. That's just who she was, she had to have everything be perfect that when something went wrong she couldn't forgive herself for that. It was a horrible thing that she did to herself, but she couldn't change it. That was who she was.

"I wanted to see you."

"Really?" She asked, "Why?" She didn't consider herself to be someone that Issac would want to be around. Even if she did enjoy his company, he just seemed more aware of the world than she was. It seemed like compared to him, she was an innocent doe eyed little girl.

[isaac]

"No, something got messed up during the performance. Whenever something goes wrong, especially during a performance it almost ruins my day. But, I'll live. Its just one messed up performance."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, devoid of emotion. He wished he had seen her dance or heard her sing. A moment more looking at her, and he knew his love was real. Why else did his heart race, and his veins seemed to flow not with blood, but the need for her. The need for her love. To know she was there with him, that she loved him for what he was, even if he was a monster. Too long he'd hated himself for what he'd done, slighted by others. "I hope--things go better the next time..."

"Really? Why?"

He paused for a long time. His hand still held hers. He looked down at their hands, linked, and felt her warmth. He stood for what seemed like a long time. He finally found the words. "Mimi...when you and I had that conversation several days ago. The things you said. I think...I need to hear them again. Mimi..." He released her, and there was blood on her hand. He showed her his own palm, surprised. A deep slash across his palm had opened up again. He had used a shard of glass several days before, as he sat alone in the abandoned warehouse. His thoughts surged. He could see Seth's face before him, and the way his eyes had stared up empty when he lay on the floor, dead and bleeding. He had stopped suddenly, and when he realized what he'd done he knew he had to see Mimi again. "Mimi," he said now, still staring at the broken open wound across his palm. "I need you. I need your hope. I have none, Mimi...please..."

[Mimi]

"I hope--things go better the next time..."

Mimi looked up at him and grinned, "That makes two of us." She chirped, "I really shouldn't let it bother me, but I just can't help it..." She trailed off, there were more important things to worry about. To her, this was important, but to everyone else it was just something stupid. Like a dead deer or something, Issac probably thought she was an idiot. She could still remember their conversation a few nights ago in Midtown. He would be the only reason to go to Midtown, that is if she ever had the desire to go back there. He probably hated her, no...he couldn't hate her. He would tell her that, Issac seemed to be a point blank, blunt kind of guy. He wouldn't lie to her about his hatred towards her. That is if he hated her...

She cleared her thoughts, she was feeling confused herself, and she had too much on her mind. Things have been difficult for her, it was nearing the holiday season, Thanksgiving, Christmas...and she was feeling homesick. Again. She left home for a reason, why was she missing her home? Probably because she didn't really have anyone to turn to, she had herself and that was it. Who knew one person could change from a little girl in pigtails, to a woman in just two years?

"Mimi...when you and I had that conversation several days ago. The things you said. I think...I need to hear them again. Mimi..."

A frown played across her pale features, "Wh...what do you mean?" She stammered, she couldn't remember what she had said to him that didn't make her appear even more unintelligent. She glanced down and saw their hands, together. She looked up at him and felt his hand move away, her sharp eyes glanced down at her hand and saw blood. Alarmed, she tried to find the source of it; it was his hand.

Now, she wasn't afraid of a little blood, she didn't care about bruises or anything. But the gash on his hand looked bad, panic struck her. Was he okay? How long had that been there? Her cold fingertips touched his hand, gently. "Issac, what happened to your hand?" She asked, looking back up at him. "Are you okay?" Concern was intertwined in her voice.

"Mimi, I need you. I need your hope. I have none, Mimi...please..."

His words made her heart feel for him, here he was with such a tough exterior, but he had such a soft heart. She bit her lower lip, he needed her? She didn't know what to do, she looked from his dark eyes to the cut on his hand, and then down at her own that was holding his. She glanced back up, "What do you want me to do?" She asked, quietly.

[isaac]

"Issac, what happened to your hand? Are you okay?"

His eyes were locked on the open gash on the palm of his hand. "No," he replied. His voice was stone cold and harsh. He knew why he had done it. He had thought too much, and that was his downfall. Mimi made him think, and he swore he would never think about anything if he could help it. But he was thinking, alone at the abandoned warehouse, sitting on his pitiful excuse for a bed with an empty beer bottle in one hand. He started to think about Seth. What he had done to Seth. In frustration, Isaac had smashed the end of the bottle off against the wall. In the aftermath he had stared pensively at the jagged edges of the bottle. Go ahead, something urged him. Make yourself bleed. Make yourself bleed like you made your own brother bleed. Make yourself hurt like he hurt before you killed him with your own hands. Your own hands... The next thing he knew his palm was dripping crimson, and he gasped in pain. He threw the bottle away, where it shattered on the hard floor, and let his hand bleed. After a while, he wrapped it in cloth, and went about his business.

Now he turned to Mimi, and said in a voice so urgent and desperate it could break a heart, "I did this. I kept thinking--just--thinking. I hate thinking. Look what happens. I think too much. No. I'm not okay, Mimi. I'm not okay."

"What do you want me to do?"

His answer was simple. "Help me."

[Mimi]

"No,"

Mimi's green eyes were wide, she looked up at his face. Issac's eyes were locked on the gash on his hand, she felt awful. Blood was seeping out of the wound, she shifted slightly. Mimi bent down and tore off some of her petticoat to make a makeshift bandage. "Here," She said, softly as she put it around his hand. "That should help make the bleeding stop." She smiled.

"I did this. I kept thinking--just--thinking. I hate thinking. Look what happens. I think too much. No. I'm not okay, Mimi. I'm not okay."

Her heart ached for him, he wasn't okay, that was clear. And he needed help, Mimi wanted to help him but how? She glanced down at his hand, he did that to himself. He hurt himself, what was so bad with him that made him do this? Mimi looked at him, she felt awful that whatever was bothering him was bothering him. "I'm so sorry," She murmured. She wanted to help him, Mimi hated seeing people miserable.

"Help me."

Tears welled up in her eyes, he looked so helpless, it almost broke her heart. She just want to give him a hug, and that's what she did. Mimi wrapped her arms around his neck, "It'll be okay." She said, "You're a good person, everything will be fine."

[isaac]

"That should help make the bleeding stop."

He examined the makeshift bandage, watched the red stain flower to the top of the fabric. He wondered if the bleeding would ever stop, knew that it certainly would, and still doubted it. He could never leave behind what he had done. Everywhere he turned, someone was calling him Cain. On some level, it didn't bother him. He knew exactly what he had done, and he was in control of his actions. He felt no remorse for killing his brother. What he did feel remorse for was having Mimi think he was someone he wasn't. She didn't know. She knew nothing. And he knew that he would need to tell her. It was the fact that she didn't know what he had done, it was tearing him to pieces. She was wonderful to him, but she didn't know.

He had to tell her. He had to know that he was worthy of her kindness, despite what he'd done. It was the only way. It would kill him if he didn't tell her. But maybe it would kill him if he did...

"I'm so sorry,"

"No," he said, his voice shaking. "I am."

"It'll be okay. You're a good person, everything will be fine."

She put her arms around him, and Isaac was so stunned and frightened that he jumped away from her embrace. "No!" he exclaimed. "Don't! I-I can't! You can't!" He lost his temper, and his fury raged. He cried, "You don't know, Mimi! You don't know what I've done. You don't know what I could do!" He grabbed her shoulders and held them tightly. "If I told you what I've done--why I live with the dredges of New York in a godforsaken borough, working for a...a murderer--you would hate me. You'd never want anything to do with me again."

[Mimi]

"No, I am."

Confusion flushed over Mimi, "What do you mean?" She asked softly. She hated not knowing things, and she knew there was something he was hiding. Or was it her? Either way, Mimi wanted them to be honest with each other. She would be honest with him, what did he do that was so bad? She bit her lower lip and studied his face, the poor thing, there was something wrong with him.

"No! Don't! I-I can't! You can't!"

Her eyes went wide again, and she stepped back from him. Half of it was fear, and half of it was well, she was somewhat pushed away. She shook her head, what was so bad? She was about to demand an answer, but then he spoke again.

"You don't know, Mimi! You don't know what I've done. You don't know what I could do! If I told you what I've done--why I live with the dredges of New York in a godforsaken borough, working for a...a murderer--you would hate me. You'd never want anything to do with me again."

"What is so bad?" She asked, shaking her head. "What have you done that is so bad?" Her voice raised, and it shook just a smidge. Mimi looked down at his hands that were now on her shoulders. She would never admit it, but she was almost fearful of him. She didn't know what he was capable of doing, and it was like he was almost trying to convince her that he was a terrible person. "I could never hate you..." She said, softly. Mimi blinked, "Do you not want me around you? Just say so, and I'll leave." Her voice was barely a whisper.

[isaac]

"What is so bad? What have you done that is so bad?"

He laughed curtly, coldly. "Ha! You want me to tell you! Fine! I will! I'll tell all, I'll tell you everything, and you'll see why you should be afraid of me. You'll see why they call me Cain!" He took her thin wrist and gripped it tightly in his hand. He didn't intend for her to get away from him, as he was about to tell her everything. He didn't want her running before he had finished, as he had the feeling she might. Although his grip on her wrist never relaxed for a moment, his eyes calmed, and glazed over with remembrance. "I had a brother. His name was Seth. He looked like me, so very much. Two years my junior, and my parents adored him. He was the wonderful, pious child, and I was the one in the shadows, the one in the background. I was twice as devoted to God as my brother, and no one even noticed. No one took any note of me."

His free hand clenched into a fist. He released it with some difficulty before going on. "One night, our parents were at the opera. Seth and I were alone in the house. I confronted him about stealing all our parents' attention, making me seem second best. He denied it. It--infuriated me. Our voices grew louder. Our words grew harsher. Finally--he said the words that signed his death warrant. He told me that he was more of a child of God than I would ever be. That was more than I could bear to hear. I took a candlestick off our mantle. And I swung it at his head. I continued in my rage until he no longer moved. Then I left the room, and I read the book of Genesis. After my parents returned home, I came here. To New York. It is my penance. I have nothing now, only the memories of Seth's empty face staring up at me and the cries of agony from my mother."

"I could never hate you...do you not want me around you? Just say so, and I'll leave."

"Stay."

[Mimi]

"Ha! You want me to tell you! Fine! I will! I'll tell all, I'll tell you everything, and you'll see why you should be afraid of me. You'll see why they call me Cain!"

Mimi's eyes widened as she glanced down, he had her wrist in his hand. Was what he was going to tell her going to be that bad? She began to panic, what if he was going to kill her? No..he didn't seem like that type of person. Questions buzzed through her mind, maybe it was because she didn't know him that well. Maybe's and what if's drove her crazy. She knew she couldn't change the past, and what was going to happen.

"I had a brother. His name was Seth. He looked like me, so very much. Two years my junior, and my parents adored him. He was the wonderful, pious child, and I was the one in the shadows, the one in the background. I was twice as devoted to God as my brother, and no one even noticed. No one took any note of me."

She could sympathize with him, her sister was the wonderful child in her parent's eyes. When she told her parents that she didn't want to grow up to be just a farmer's wife, her parents immediately began to ignore her. Mimi felt bad for him, it was hard not being the favorite child.

"One night, our parents were at the opera. Seth and I were alone in the house. I confronted him about stealing all our parents' attention, making me seem second best. He denied it. It--infuriated me. Our voices grew louder. Our words grew harsher. Finally--he said the words that signed his death warrant. He told me that he was more of a child of God than I would ever be. That was more than I could bear to hear. I took a candlestick off our mantle. And I swung it at his head. I continued in my rage until he no longer moved. Then I left the room, and I read the book of Genesis. After my parents returned home, I came here. To New York. It is my penance. I have nothing now, only the memories of Seth's empty face staring up at me and the cries of agony from my mother."

Mimi listened intently to his story. She was silent as he told her about how he killed his brother. When he finished she remained silent; trying to let everything soak in. He killed his brother, the man in front of her killed his own brother. She didn't know how to react, did that make him a murderer? It was clear the memory was probably haunting him, did that mean he would do it again? What if she made him angry enough, would he kill her? She took a shaky breath before saying, "I don't know what to say.." It was the honest truth, she had no idea what to say. She looked up at him, "I don't hate you."

"Stay."

She simply nodded and obeyed.