Show No Mercy (7 page)

Read Show No Mercy Online

Authors: Bethany Walkers

 

 

I met a girl in an office.

A beautiful girl

And I fell for her.

I fell hard.

Unfortunately, sometimes life gets in the way.

Life definitely got in my way.

It got all up in my damn way,

Life blocked the door with a stack of wooden 2x4's

nailed together and attached to a fifteen inch concrete wall

behind a row of solid steel bars, bolted to a titanium frame that

no matter how hard I shoved against it-

It

wouldn't

budge.

Sometimes life doesn't budge.

It just gets all up in your damn way.

It blocked my plans, my dreams, my desires, my wishes,

my wants, my needs.

It blocked out that beautiful girl

That I fell so hard for.

 

Life tries to tell you what's best for you

What should be most important to you

What should come in first

Or second

Or third.

 

I tried so hard to keep it all organized, alphabetized,

stacked in chronological order, everything in its perfect space,

its perfect place.

I thought that's what life wanted me to do.

This is what life needed for me to do.

Right?

Keep it all in sequence?

 

Sometimes, life gets in your way.

It gets all up in your damn way.

But it doesn't get all up in your damn way because it

wants you to just give up and let it take control. Life doesn't get

all up in your damn way because it just wants you to hand it all

over and be carried along.

Life wants you to fight it.

It wants you to grab an axe and hack through the wood.

It wants you to get a sledgehammer and break through

the concrete.

It wants you to grab a torch and burn through the metal

and steel until you can reach through and grab it.

Life wants you to grab all the organized, the

alphabetized, the chronological, the sequenced. It wants you to

mix it all together,

stir it up,

blend it.

 

Life doesn't want you to let it tell you that your little

brother should be the only thing that comes first.

Life doesn't want you to let it tell you that your career

and your education should be the only thing that comes in

second.

And life definitely doesn't want me

To just let it tell me

that the girl I met,

The beautiful, strong, amazing, resilient girl

That I fell so hard for

Should only come in third.

 

Life knows.

Life is trying to tell me

That the girl I love,

The girl I fell

So hard for?

There's room for her in first.

I'm putting her first.
             

 

Chapter Eighteen

The confession

 

Sophie was rocking with laughter, sitting with Adam on the bus. She couldn’t stop giggling now it was the end of the party.
                                                       

“Sandalwood actually thought that you were Adam Attenborough!” she cackled. “Oh, he was acting like it was a brilliant chance! Boy is this the first time I’ve actually burst into hysterics! You should have seen his face, all chuffed and pleased! And you’re not even Adam Attenborough, you’re Mitchell Anderson!”
                           

 

Adam made the best attempt to laugh along with her, but he couldn’t control the feelings that were spinning about in his mind.             

Sophie continued to giggle. Adam put his head in his hands, and then looked up to face Sophie, who was still laughing to her heart’s content. Adam looked deep into her eyes, and then plucked up the courage to start speaking to her again, to keep her mind off laughing.
                                                                                                               

“I – I love you,” Adam confessed.
                                         

 

Sophie didn’t say anything, but she’d stopped laughing for sure.                                                                     

“I love you,” Adam repeated, with more confidence and surety in his voice.
                                         

 

“You do?” Sophie whispered.                                          

 

People looked in there direction, staring. Adam gave them a disapproving look and they turned back to whatever they were doing. He didn’t care anymore, for once in his life, he had never been so sure about what he’d said, and what he wanted.             

 

“Yes, I do love you,” Adam said once more. “Positively. And – and …”                                                                     

 

“And what?” Sophie asked, her voice still just as quiet.                                                                                                 

“I want to marry you.”
              Adam couldn’t stop the words slipping out of his mouth.                                         

 

Adam knew how soppy he must have looked and sounded. In his life, he had never been much of a romantic. But he couldn’t help it. He did love Sophie, there was no doubt about it. It seemed so right.                                                                                   

“Will you marry me?” Adam asked.
                           

 

“I – I’ll think about it,” Sophie said slowly. The bus came to an abrupt stop. It was Sophie’s time to leave.                                                                                                 

“Bye,” Sophie said. “Oh, and one more thing. Happy New Year.”

 

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

Bursting into song

 

Adam and Sophie met up the next day.                           

 

“Well, did you think about it?” Adam asked, hopeful and eager, but still worried.                           

 

“Well the thing is, Mitchell,” Sophie began, sounding like she didn’t want to agree to this proposal, “the thing is … I love you too. So – I’ll marry you, definitely.”                                                                     

“Oh that’s great!” Adam exclaimed, and flung his arms around her. Sophie gave him a hug, before pulling away. Adam broke into song:

 


Oh Sophie,

You’re gorgeous,

Everybody knows that!

 

Oh Sophie,

You’re gorgeous,

Everybody knows that!

 

I’ve known you for a long time now,

And I love you after this relationship

And now you’ve agreed

I feel the greatest I’ve ever been!

 

Oh Sophie

You’re gorgeous,

Everybody knows that!

 

Oh Sophie,

You’re gorgeous,

Everybody knows that!

 

You’ve just made my day!

By agreeing to my proposal!

I thank you ever so much

For being my life partner!

 

Oh Sophie,

You’re gorgeous,

Everybody knows that!

 

Oh Sophie,

You’re gorgeous,

Everybody knows that!

 

Now that we’re about to get married,

We can stay together,

Forever and a day,


Cos we’re becoming sweethearts!

 

Oh Sophie,

You’re gorgeous,

Everybody knows that!

 

Oh Sophie,

You’re gorgeous,

Everybody knows that!”

 

Adam finished his song. Sophie clapped, but he didn’t think it was that good. It didn’t even rhyme, and it sounded like a gushy love song. Hey, wait, it
was
a gushy love song, that he’d made up as he went along. He was a business man, singing like he was a man with a bad hairdo.                                                                                                                

The only problems left in their relationship were that Sophie thought his name was Mitchell Anderson. She didn’t know the fact that he was Adam Attenborough, the press would scandalize their relationship with the wrong articles, Sophie didn’t know he was a business man and she thought that he was about to be poor, and was hanging onto his job to keep up with his life.

 

He gave Sophie a hi-five.

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty

The story of the embassy car tradition

 

“The thing is, Mitchell,” Sophie started, “I’m not getting married until we can buy three embassy cars. That’s the tradition that’s been going on in my family, through generations. ‘Cause my mum got married to my dad that way. And so did my dad’s mum and dad, and my mum’s mum and dad, and my dad’s mum and dad’s mum and dad, and my mum’s mum and dad’s mum and dad, and …”                                                                                                 

 

“And I get the story of this family chain thing,” Adam finished off, smiling. He didn’t feel like saying a word of discontent to her now; he had never been so happy in his life.                                         

 

“Well, yeah.” Sophie shrugged.                                                                                   

“So we will get those embassy cars, if it goes on in your family. I’d be happy to follow that tradition.”
                                                                                                 

“Thanks, Mitchell,” Sophie grinned.

 

A couple of weeks later, when Adam was at work, Sophie decided to buy her first embassy car. She went to a jewellers shop with a heap of her gold jewellery.
                                                                                   

“Please could you tell me the value of my jewellery?” she asked to the jeweller. The jeweller was wearing plain white attire, and he had dark brown hair.
                                         

 

“Indeed,” the jeweller replied, and he went to a room with a microscope in his hand and his glasses on.                                                                                   

Soon later, he came back.
                                                                     

 

“Are you sure you would like to sell this jewellery?” he asked.                                                                                                               

“Well, yes, that’s why I’m here,” Sophie said.
                                                                                                                             

“Do you work for Mr. Sandalwood in an advert production company?”
                                                                                                               

“Yes.”
                                                                                                 

 

“Well, then I can certainly see how you could afford such things. All together, it was worth five thousand pounds.”                                                       

The examiner went to another room, and brought out the money in a large case.
                           

 

“Here you go,” he said, and snatched the jewellery off her.                                                                                   

“Thanks,” Sophie said sarcastically, and left the jewellers shop.
                                                       

Then she went to a car company.
                                         

 

“Excuse me, do you sell embassy cars, you know the tradition ones you have before weddings?” Sophie asked.                                                                     

“Of course. We specialize in all types of cars. Follow me,” said the car company manager, and led Sophie to an enormous garage which had a couple of embassy cars inside it, each different in colour and design.

 

“They are on the expensive side,” explained the manager, stroking his thick stubbly chin with his thumb, “and we do have limited stock. As you can see, we only have four of these embassy cars left.”
                                                                     

 

“How much will the cost come to, sir?” Sophie enquired.                                                                                   

“Five thousand pounds, madam,” said the manager, fiddling with his tie because Sophie looked so good.
                                                       

Sophie gave him a wide smile.
                                         

 

“That’ll be all right then. I can afford it,” she said, and she bought the most rich creamy white coloured embassy car.                                                       

“Will you be able to deliver it, to my friend Billy’s house?” asked Sophie.
                                                       

 

“It will be done for sure,” said the manager, as he took details of the address and where the house was situated.                                                       

“Thanks, sir. Oh, and please get it delivered by tomorrow.”
                                                                     

“A tight schedule it’ll be, ma’am, but since you have paid such a high price; well, more than enough, we’ll manage,” said the manager. Sophie grinned and walked off.

 

It was the day after the day Sophie had ordered her first embassy car. Billy was hanging around with his chubby friends down town, and told Sophie to feel free to wander around his house. The embassy car had arrived, so Sophie phoned Adam to tell him to come to Billy’s house, now.
                                                                     

 

He arrived, and he gasped as he saw the embassy car.                                                                                                 

“How could you afford it? They’re really expensive, and Sandalwood doesn’t even give half the money it costs to get an embassy car.” Adam looked purely dumbfounded.
             

 

“I sold my jewellery, you know, this and that,” Sophie said, shrugging as if it was not a big deal.                                                                                    

Adam began to feel guilty. He could afford a room full of embassy cars as he was so successful yet he hadn’t helped Sophie the slightest bit in buying the embassy car. He was practically made of money, as far as he was concerned, though she didn’t know that, as she knew him as Mitchell Anderson.
                                                                                   

“Oh right, cool,” was all he manage.
                           

 

“Yes, cool indeed,” Sophie agreed, laughing. “Now let’s take it out for a spin!”                                                                     

 

She grabbed Adam’s arm and hauled him out, shoving him in the car quickly but gently.              “We’ll get some kids in it as well,” Sophie suggested. They drove down the road and some kids got in the car till it was full to the brim and nobody else could come inside.                                                        

Sophie wound down the window and called out to some shopkeepers at their stalls.
                           

 

“Hey guys! Nice embassy car, isn’t it?” she shouted.                                                                                                               

“Yes, very nice, madam,” they shouted back.
                                                                                                                             

And from then on, they kept on driving the embassy car, dropping the kids off at their stops and then driving it to Sophie’s house.
                           

“Bye, Mitchell. I had a great time.”
                           

 

“It was great,” Adam replied, and left.

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