Animalistic

by Nunn, Alexis

  The girl was right. My personality tended to be more emotionally driven. In this scenario, maybe it wouldn’t be the best to have me strung-out running in the wild amongst werebies. I’d get myself killed and that would get nobody anywhere.

  “Then what should I do?” I honestly felt ridiculous. My rude awakening had to come from a girl two years younger than me who acted like a mother.

  “Wait. Feliks loves you. He won’t abandon you. He’ll come back.”

  I needed to believe that he really would come back. Feliks is just as devoted to me as I am to him, even if that seemed unhealthy. In isolation, family is the one comfort you have left when everything else has been lost.

  My bed, behind me and within reaching distance, seemed like the best place to resort back to wait. The blankets were balled up from where I furiously got up and kicked them off to the side so they needed to be straightened out before they could be useful to me. Fadiyah scratched the back of her neck, walking up to me.

  She patted my shoulder, “I’ve got to go back home. I’ve been here for too long.”

  I nodded, sad at the thought of being alone, “I’ll see you.”

  I knew she could sense my mood because I heard her sigh, but in the way that it was hushed to keep it to herself, “I’ll see you later too.”

  She left, likely first to go to Lilya then to check in with Robert. I went back to the blanket, straightening it out to occupy my thoughts. I let my head nod forward, slouching in my spot. The comforter was easily fixed and draped back over my bed in its proper spot. Once the blanket was fixed, I was out of anything to do while waiting for Feliks to come back.

  From corner to corner, I examined each and everything about my room. There was my bed then a desk and finally my music player on top of a dresser, next to it rested the boxes of cassettes and vinyl records. There was always listening to music to pass my time. That was enjoyable, but not distracting enough. Even though music would liven up the room, put something in my head to think about, but wouldn’t benefit me in the long, I slowly went over and unraveled the cord to plug it in. The bright red light on the front panel lit up when electricity was introduced. I sighed and opened up the boxes, pausing, then reached for the CDs instead.

  Still in the cases, I popped open the first one I picked up. Carefully, the CD was removed from the plastic case and I pushed in the soft black button to activate the CD drive to slide out. The disc fit into the slot precisely, not slipping when it went in. The analog screen off to the side of the open/close button flashed from 00 to 13, indicating the disc was ready to play. The CD itself wasn’t any studio album of a band, instead a personally made playlist without a track list which was the deterrent of listening to it. I knew none of the songs on it, not sure what to expect when I pushed play. I hesitated, wondering if I should just chose my fall back cassette.

  But I did. The first song began to play, so soft I thought it wasn’t. The dial for volume was almost at all the way. The song picked up, acoustic guitars strumming at the time that I almost turned up the sound. Something clicked, I recognized the song. It was a classic, famous band, famous album, and famous song, possibly one of their most popular.

  It brought a smile to my face when I heard the guitars overlap, becoming louder, cuing a trumpet-like sound into the mix. It continued to play, vocals serenading a sad melody that fit. The title fit the most. For the five minute running time, I stood aside to the player, speakers threatening to hurt my ears, just thinking about the irony.

  It brought me back to Feliks, defeating the purpose, “Yeah, great idea.”

  I was glad once the song ended, beginning to play some generic metal song, nothing but loud noise. I knew of good bands that encompassed the technique and vocal style of growling and ‘screaming’ but I didn’t know this one, yet even so, I let it play.

  While standing around, I took up opening and rummaging through what was in the drawers of my dresser. Shirts. Pants. Underwear, mostly men’s boxers. Socks. The magazines I should’ve gotten rid of. I wiped my hand off on my pants when I accidentally touched them again. I don’t know what was worse, wearing some teen boy’s clothes or having a good idea of what he used to do in them. The thought was cringe worthy.

  Let’s change topics now. This is getting weird. I shivered and closed all the drawers.

  The shiver made some of my hair stand up, itching my skin. I scratched it and yawned. I felt how long my hair had grown out to. The tips laid on the back of my neck, puffed over my ears, and my bangs hung below my full eyebrows. That meant it was way too long for my liking.

  Now that was something I could do to pass the time: cut it.

  I knew where a pair of scissors were, not hair cutting scissors, but that never stopped me before. This time I actually had a mirror to use while I did it, not just my brother staring at me with his arms crossed critiquing me as I cut it, only to complain about it afterwards. We two siblings had dramatically different tastes if it wasn’t obvious. Feliks’s hair had never began to bother him until it was long enough to fall into his cereal in the morning. He might have been a bit confused of what decade it was.

  The music played so loudly that it could be heard throughout the house. I walked out to the kitchen with a deceptively happy bob in my step. I got to the kitchen and found the scissors. They were long, bright, with a soft blue handle. They seemed almost brand new and I was off to ruin my hair on them.

  I gripped them tight in my hand, flipping them around constantly as I headed off to the bathroom.

  EIGHTEEN

  The mirror had condensation settling on it the closer I got to it, squinting my eyes as I examined my hair closely by taking strands into my fingers. My hair, radiating an auburn highlight under the bright spiral light bulbs, fell back down on my face as I began reaching for my comb.

  The mere sight of my hair nearing below my ears felt like a pressure on my chest. I hated it. In the words of Mae Monika Stern, ‘you will only look pretty with long hair, darling’

  I didn’t want to be a pretty darling. Pretty was for objects and flowers. I was a person, something to be respected and besides, long hair was absolutely inconvenient to me. Feliks had nothing to worry about; meanwhile, after seeing a girl’s ponytail get pulled into a machine in my trade school class, I was set on keeping my hair safe and short.

  I hated how much my mother prided feminine chores. She wore elaborate dresses, jewelry, bought new diamonds monthly. She studied flowers and how they could be arranged and did house cleaning. That was fine until she pushed it down on me. I didn’t want to be tied down or to be a forgotten thing left inside a house. I wasn’t going to be her work of art with a face painted like a China doll. There was a mold that I couldn’t fit in. Between her children, Feliks was the only one she could put eyeliner on without complaint.

  So, I cut a chunk off right above my ear. I combed through, tilted up the comb, and cut off the hair poking up through the teeth then continued until both sides of my hair were the same. The scissors awkwardly angled up and over my ears, keeping the hair down. The back of my head was difficult to cut. I relied on faith, which I hated to do, and cut it slow. Afterwards, my shoulders and shirt felt like the floor of a barber shop.

  My bangs didn’t need to be cut much. I cut them off above my eyebrows, disregarding the theory of layering hair.

  Done.

  I was right, it had distracted me. Now I needed a shower to rinse off the hair strands. It wasn’t going to help outside hygiene and take up time. Showers and baths were the time that your mind let itself wander down the roads that wound into your past and ran past your regrets and fears. That meant I was scared to get stuck on worrying about Feliks.

  Yet, I digressed, heading over to the cubicle and stepped into the tub without even bothering to take off my clothes. My body wasn’t the most thrilling to look at for me. I waited for the water to completely soak my clothes and accumulate a few centimeters of water in the tub before I sat down and removed my clothes and actually wash
my hair and body.

  Feliks was gone for three days before I was standing over the kitchen counter, twirling a knife blade in my palm in silence, the handle in my dominant hand. The tip drilled a small hole that began to bleed, cuing a soft sigh. I was lonely, sure I was the last Stern alive.

  But I heard claws click across the floor again, elating my emotions. With the last drop of hope I had left, I prayed it was not another werebie that wandered in that I’d have to stab and decapitate. The paws stopped and I heard a thud of an animal plopping its rump down on the floor, followed by the swish of its tail.

  Still holding my knife, I turned around to see what I suspected. A dark dog, black across the face that traced down the back and tan on the legs. The fur was long on the sides of his face and curled on his chest as well as on the tail, which was missing the midsection. I smiled and he smiled back, ears popping up happily and his blue-grey eyes shining with joy to match mine.

  “Feliks?”

  “I’m sorry for leaving,” He rose back up rushing over to me.

  His paws met my stomach, mouth opening and his tail trying to beat the speed of light. I grasped the sides of his face, swallowing softly and looking down at him in his eyes. He reached up a leg onto my chest and laid his head into me, staring back. We stopped making any noise, just staying there, talking to ourselves in our minds, trying to console each other through the quiet. I leaned back into the counter, looping my arms around his shoulders and the tension in his forelegs going limp and the paw on my stomach falling down on the curve of my hip. We, the last Sterns, embraced and were content.

  Feliks brought up his ears and sniffed, licked over his nose and then tugged away. I released him so he could descend back to the floor with a muted thud. In that second, it felt like a rubber band had been stressed for too long had finally snapped. I clenched my teeth and held a heated breath before unleashing a pent up fury.

  “Three days! You left me for three days. You abandoned me! You abandoned me! I have never been so alone. You weren’t just hiding away in the next room, you were gone!” The fight between sorrow and anger were keeping me at a stalemate. Neither emotion could prevail, so my actions wavered between the two.

  Feliks began to lose his joy from the reintroduction. He cowered before me, lowered head and all. The whip of a tail hid under his belly and his feet tried to escape back from whence he came.

  “Lene, really, don’t do this. I’m sorry. Lene, you need to-”

  I lost my breath. My eyes dried and my skinned burned. Overreacting, not really, but this was not the time. I contained myself in a mental cage and just stared into the blue of his stare.

  I slid slowly on the floor, holding on the counter so I could cross my legs in front of him. It was confrontation, I spoke first.

  “Why did you leave?”

  “I was scared,” He tilted his head off to the left, averting his eyes, then ducked it quickly to the opposite side and dropped his ears with shame. I poked one ear and his pricked it back up.

  “You should’ve stayed.”

  He shook his head with a sigh, keeping his head low but bringing his muzzle back up to look at me, “I thought,” He picked up a paw and scratched it over the floor as a guilty tick, “I had thought I was beginning to turn full werebie.”

  It seemed understandable for him to assume so. Feliks took a deep breath and closed his eyes, aligning himself into a calm pose, “I felt such a burst of rage, it felt dangerous. I couldn’t let it fade, it kept a hold of me. I almost hurt you. So far with us being close and nothing happening, it seemed unlikely, but what if a full bite from me turned you, Darylene?”

  Impossible. I wouldn't hear of it, “No way, Feliks. This isn’t like the infected blood on the hill, the virus is out of you.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it!” He barked.

  I ordered him to calm down, “Ever since we left our home you’ve became angry. You aren’t laid back anymore. You don’t slouch around or sleep past noon. You don’t behave the same. It’s like you have let yourself change. When you get mad, you show it. When you do that, it gets worse. You need to control it.”

  We both looked to the front door when I heard the ajar door creak farther open. Feliks smelled who it was, scooting around to face the guest as I saw who it was.

  Lilya peeked in and then entered and shut the door. She was holding her stuffed bunny tight by its ears and letting the matted body swing with her steps. The girl spotted where I was, then spotted Feliks, making her hop in her place and come towards us in glee. Feliks had returned, making her just as happy as I was. A bit of the cold air of morning came in with her but it was locked out when the door was shut.

  Lilya stood in our kitchen and I stood back up. My brother got on his four paws and trotted up to her. She scratched the crown of his head with her open hand, ruffling up his fur. He shivered slightly, then twitched his back leg in rhythm of the scratch. It was a mood lightening show.

  She giggled, scratched down his neck to make him thump his leg harder.

  “Stop! Ah, stop, it tickles,” Feliks laughed and shook his body. Lilya let up and petted him, both still laughing.

  He paused, dragged a paw across his face and snorted.

  I addressed Lilya, “What have you been up to so far?”

  “Fadiyah came home this morning from your place, I wanted to see you,” She smiled, one of her front teeth shifted as she did so.

  “Well, I’m doing alright,” I grinned back, looking at her cockeyed tooth, “You gotta loose tooth there?”

  She nodded, prodding at it with her tongue, making it wiggle out and poke out of line. Judging by how far it stuck out, it was close to ready to fall out. It made me remember losing my own teeth, though mine fell out later in my life. At age seventeen, I still had one baby tooth left.

  “You want to get that tooth out of there? Or you going to leave it for now?” So I could take a closer look, her head tilted up and she gave me a wide smile showing all her teeth and gums. She answered me with a nod to the first option.

  There was tooth floss in the bathroom door I could use to pluck the tooth from its place, or pinch it between a towel and jerk it out of place. I always chose the tooth floss method.

  The child looked around then grabbed the tooth in her fingers, pulling on it.

  “Okay, come on,” I patted her shoulder and lead the way, leaving Feliks in the kitchen. He headed off to his bedroom to lay down.

  Once in the bathroom, I had her sit on the toilet lid while I shuffled through the drawer under the sink. I found the tiny box and lifted the lid, taking the thin white string out, feeling it unwind from the spindle before I separated it on the metal bit.

  I went back to her, tapping the underside of her chin and tilting her face up towards me. The string was easily wound around her tooth before being tied off. The untied end soon ended up wrapped around my clenched fist. It wouldn’t take much energy to remove the tooth but it was necessary to make sure the floss didn’t go slack and just end up hurting the poor girl. It never took much to scare someone with an experience like that; she’d forever be scared of losing teeth if it was associated with pain.

  When she gave me the affirming nod, I began. I carefully held her face with her mouth shut - since the tooth was on the top - and kept her face still, the feeling of the outline of her teeth under my fingers. I told her I’d count down for her from five to zero so she’d be prepared.

  “1,” she kept her smile, “2,” her smile began to falter, “3,” I went ahead and popped out her tooth. Her shock from surprise was evident with her jolt up, not from pain, only surprise.

  She licked over the hole in her smile, the taste of iron making her grimace, but the wonder of seeing her tooth swing at the end of the floss was worth it. She reached out and I loosened the knot so I could give her the tooth. I watched her feel over the sharp ridges of where it was in her gums.

  “Did it hurt?” I asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  She smiled again
, bright and happily, “Nuhuh! Tank you, tank you!”

  “Alright,” I unrolled a bit of toilet paper to clean off the tooth and wrapped it up, then handed it back to her. There was blood slowly seeping from the spot, but she just kept licking it away, now intrigued by the odd taste.

  “Don’t tell Robert I did it, just tell him it fell out. I don’t want him yelling assault at me or something, kay?”

  Lilya agreed and got up off the toilet, straightening out her little dress, “What happ’ned to your hand?”

  I looked at my palm and looked at the now-sealed hole I had drilled with the knife, “I hit it on something, forget about it. Now go home and brag about your tooth, okay?”

  I sent her out on her way, probably off to tell Fadiyah about the life achievement.

  NINETEEN

  Robert leaned back lazily in his chair, magazine in his hand, and flipped through a few pages, not really reading anything at all. Earlier, he had told Lilya to go place her tooth under her pillow, but upon Lilya’s reminding him that ‘Tooth Fairy don’t exist, Grandpa’ he handed over a piece of candy. Currently, she was off in her room playing with her toys.

  After fixing my beanie, I scraped some food off my plate, spinning around the fork. I popped it in my mouth, licking off the last bit of mashed potatoes and gravy before tumbling it all in the sink with the rest. Fadiyah stood by my side, scrubbing away at the dishes we had used previous, so I decided to help. It was methodical, swipe, turn, swipe, repeat, change. The soap suds clung to my thin wrists and soaked into my hand, making it prune. It was both relaxing and annoying but it was a form of payment for dinner plus it aided a friend. Her gratefulness at my bit of help was evident in her small smile, which was cast down into the sink and plates that she washed.

  We worked side by side and finished up not so long after beginning. Robert’s chair creaked, his feet dropped off the table onto the floor. He threw back his head and stretched out his arms bent at the elbows behind his head. He yawned then sat forward again. Fadiyah wrung her hands on the rough green dish cloth, rolling her eyes.