Flood

by Maria Quinn

  The windows are open; everything is always open.

  This has never been a place where people lock their doors. Aside from my delinquent antics, nothing criminal has happened here since that random gangland-style murder of which I was slightly apart of, but that’s a whole other story. Murder and mayhem aside, I’ve never really felt safe, but that’s in part due to the aliens and government agents I thought were coming for me. I’d just feel a world better knowing my mother takes the precautions I do and lock things, even if there are no aliens, although if there were, I’d definitely rub it in everyone’s faces.

  Lea follows me upstairs to my room in the attic after she flings the front door shut. We’re both equally pissed because we had equally bad days. It’s like this every day. She is my best friend, and I am hers.

  She flips like a coin onto my bed and gleams at me with secrets filling her eyes.

  “What?” I question.

  “Okay,” She sits up animating her words, “So there’s this party,” she outlines with her hands.

  I stop her there, “No.”

  “Oh-come-on!” Her words slur together. “I know you hate people and all, but it’s the end of school party! As in no more school ever! You’ll never see these people again; it will be like a last reunion.”

  Is it that obvious my hatred for people?

  “Please!” She continues. “Please please please!”

  “No! I don’t do parties. I’d rather read.” I say throwing my hands up deflecting her words.

  I can see it in her eyes she’s adamant on going. “Fine, I’ll go by myself. Who’s to say what will become of me though, walking there all alone, strange boys, strange drinks…”

  “Oh my god! You’re ridiculous!” I plop myself on the edge of my bed where Pounce, my fat Tabby cat joins me.

  “See.” She points out. “Even Pounce wants you to go. Please.” She pleads desperately.

  Minutes go by.

  The ticking of my clock, louder and louder making me twitch.

  “I'm not going.”

  “There'll be free food.”

  First of all, lead the way, second of all you better not be lying. I let out a surrendering sigh, “Fine...”

  She wrangles my neck with her arms and drags me back with her on the bed giggling.

  “Okay okay! I can’t go if I’m paralyzed!”

  She lets up. “All right,” she says. “Let’s primp.”

  “I’m only staying for five minutes, and I’m not changing.”

  “You’re going in that?” She eyes me up and down.

  I do the same; black capris, black flower spaghetti strap tank, black flats, all to match my brown almost black wavy hair. I don’t see a problem.

  “You need color, like a sequined red dress with crimson red lips.” She says dramatically flipping her hair back like a movie star.

  “Uh, no,” I state flatly. The more depressing I look, the less I’ll attract attention. “And makeup irritates my face.”

  “Whatever. I just can’t be seen with you that’s all.” She assures me, picking out my clothes for herself to wear.

  She then starts contouring while I apply chapstick and put on a stone gray sweater that matches my eyes. We are from different planets. Lea thinks I dress like a librarian while I think she dresses like an Italian swimsuit model—too little and too expensive. She’s all brand names while I’m all bows and flowers. I'm satisfied with my thrift store finds, and where else would I discover my enchanting owl figurines. I look to my shelf to count them—one is missing. I start to look around, but Lea distracts me as usual.

  "Does this lipstick make me look fat?" She asks as if I'm really supposed to answer.

  “I’ll meet you downstairs,” I say rolling my eyes, but she’s too infatuated with my clothes to look up. I silently descend the stairs so my mom doesn't hear me and bug me. Pounce prances after me, weaving in and out of my legs purring. Tripping me on the last few steps I grab the railing, but my inertia sent me flying back as I broke my fall with the back of my arms.

  “Pounce! You idiot!” I scream. No point in trying to avert attention now.

  He scurries away as I hear snickering behind me. I crane my neck, to see Lea peeking around the corner.

  “Shut. Up.” I grit my teeth.

  I arose slowly, joints aching, and feeling ancient. I want to leave. I limp to the kitchen holding my side while getting a giant glass out and filling it under the faucet. I drink ferociously. I went to the freezer and grab an unopened package of frozen peas to hold at my side while waiting for Lea. I look out the window and watch the sun fight the moon for its last few minutes in the sky before everything darkens. It’s a visible darkness, serene and calming. I could stay in the dark forever, under my covers, and just sleep. Endless rest. No more seeing, doing or knowing anything about everything. I wonder if that is what death is like. I wonder if this is what awaits Lucy.

  “What are you doing?” Lea creeps up from behind staring at my peas.

  “Nothing,” I state quickly not wanting to go into the embarrassing details of my mind. “Ready?”

  “How do I look?” She asks twirling around in a sleek red mini dress, sequins twinkling in her coal black eyes.

  “Gorgeous, let’s go.” I grab her arm half dragging her out the door before she changes her mind about her attire. I want this over with.

  “This will be good for you; parties cure depression its science. Besides, then you win and won't have to take more pills.”

  As appetizing as winning sounds, I still never liked parties even when I'm normal. I'm more of a read a good book with a cup of tea kind of gal. Although I do desperately wish to feel better, depression is exponentially annoying—you know these aren't your real feelings, merely faulty brain chemicals, but simply knowing doesn't stop you from feeling it full force.

  “I’m going out with Lea have my phone don’t wait up!” I shout randomly in the house slamming the door behind us before receiving any goodbyes.

  I hate goodbyes. If you don’t say goodbye it’s like you never left.

  I’m not ready to let go, not just yet.

  Soon.

  5

  “So where are we going?” I ask after a half hour of trekking uphill.

  “Austin’s.” She points to distant glowing windows up in the mountains.

  I let out a disappointing groan.

  Austin; jock, rich, get what he wants, looks good and knows it. I hate him especially. We are almost there; I can hear the hollow echoes of peoples laughter and shrills.

  We’re even closer. The base is thrumming my heart like guitar strings. I grab my chest in case my heart leaps out. I focus on Lea in front of me, her flyaway hair glistening in the moonlight tinting her blond hair grey. She looks old; the makeup doesn’t help.

  “Greg! You made it.” Lea shouts over the escalating noise.

  Greg Flannery; my second in command. The triangle of friends is complete. Two real friends beat twenty fake friends any day. Those girls from school can live in their deluded splendor the rest of their lives; I’ll be long gone thriving in a new reality in a faraway place.

  “Hey,” Greg says casually, picking a leaf off his jade flannel shirt that matches his eyes.

  “Hey,” I repeat back.

  We slow as the house unveils itself from the towering pines. The group on the gravel road outside is kicking up so much dirt I thought I was in Beirut for a second. A mix of grades and sobriety levels are here, most of the school is here which is basically like 30 people. Some manly men are chopping wood for the fire shirtless and grilling steaks jammed on pool sticks. So masculine I want them (gag). The prettiest girls are already bikini-clad poolside, not to swim, just to show off the fact that I eat bagels and they don't.

  Skirting the tree line along the side of the house to get away from the mass I breathe in the fresh pine-scented air. Greg follows.

  “Lea drag you here?” He moreover states.

  “No way, I live for this s
tuff.” I lie, coughing up dirt.

  “Yea, I can tell.” He looks up at me, “Want me to stay out here with you?”

  I can see right through him, torn between being a good friend, or having the night of his life. I won’t be his barrier. “No,” I say. “You go ahead; I’m right behind you.”

  I doge his guilty glances so he won’t see I want him to stay.

  He squeezes my shoulder and leans in, “See you in there.” He smiles back before evaporating into the house.

  Snaking my way through the crowd, I watch as a girl frantically waves for Lea and Greg to come inside. Lea's"friend" whose acceptance is really a ploy to mate with Greg, I just know it, especially from the way she literally mimics everything he does. Oh, look at that, they're both getting a drink poolside and chugging in synchronicity—true love's melody.

  I scamper behind avoiding elbows and foreign pervert hands along the way to find a drink of my own. With nothing less than pure poison levels of alcohol available I stick to delicious facet water, as my meds and liquor are no-mixers. And no lie, the water is the best here, straight from the mountains.

  The invasive music rattles my bones; I can’t believe I agreed to this. My mind is muddled with thoughts I can’t hear, which is probably a good thing. I shouldn’t listen to myself anyway. I stand a while longer before gathering my nerves to go inside. I have to pee, bad. Stupid idea pouring a liter of water down my throat. I doge as many people as I can before it’s so crowded I can barely expand my lungs to breathe. This is such a bad idea. I hate Lea. Well, I hate her ideas.

  Once through the doorway, the real obstacles are just beginning. I move fast, threading myself through the crowd and jumping over broken glass. I spot the grand staircase. So eloquent and lavish, it would be even more breathtaking if there weren’t bodies passed out on each stair. I glimpse the mile-long line to the bathroom, but I can’t wait. The stairs are my only option; hopefully the second-floor bathroom has less of a line. I manage to climb over most of the bodies, a few I step on, but they are out cold. Someone should call an ambulance before they choke on their own vomit. Once at the top, it is mostly clear; the body barricade had done its job.

  I quickly search the rooms for a bathroom, then I came to a study. I shouldn’t, but I go in just for a peak. It smells of oak and the past. Old books line the bookshelves and stagnant walls. Beautiful. I bet Austin doesn’t even know this room exists. My fingers lightly spin an antique globe before opening another door past a desk; a bathroom. Thank the lord! I lock myself in and do my business. I hear shatters of glass on the floors below. This is getting out of control. I need to leave. I wash my hands and run my fingers through my hair, loosening random particles of dirt and a….a bottle cap? Time to go.

  It takes me a full minute to cross the bathroom before I reach the door, it’s so large. I step back into the study, a world of intellect. I adore this room. Drifting slowly I take it all in, fingers gently brushing the edge of the table; the uneven grain is infinitely smooth.

  “I didn’t know this room existed.” A voice slurs behind me.

  Startled, I retract my hand as if I were touching a flame and look up; Austin. “Um, sorry. I just had to use the bathroom.” I sidestep him to leave, but he blocks my exit.

  “Austin.” I assert. “Move.”

  He sets his drink down, “But wait.” He says. “I have a secret to tell you.”

  I take a step back, this isn’t good. He’s drunk, alone, with me. I scan the room for a weapon to scare him with. Just books, everywhere. I’m beginning to hate this room.

  He takes a step closer.

  “Back off.” I stand firm.

  But he comes closer, forcing me to relinquish my stand and retreat further.

  This is not good, shit, not good at all.

  I wish Greg had stayed.

  The tension is palpable.

  My fear is tangible.

  “Listen August,” He starts. “I really like you, I’ve always liked you.” He garbles.

  August? Shit, he’s really drunk.

  “Feeling is not mutual, now move.” I meant to scream, but it came out as a shuddered whisper.

  It happened so fast.

  He pushes me against the wall and attempts to kiss me.

  “Austin stop!” I push away.

  He pushes me harder and grabs my face, forcing his into mine. I let out a muffled scream and push him away. He stumbles and I shoot into the bathroom. I try to slam the door, but he wedges his foot in the way.

  “Come on, I know you want me!” He shouts.

  He so strong, my arms still ache from falling earlier, I can’t close it.

  My feet slide back as he pushes.

  He rams the door and sends me flying on my back smacking my head against the floor. Disoriented, I try to scramble to my feet, but he slips falling over me, slamming my face back on the tile. My eyes sting with tears.

  “Oh shit!” He slurs. “My bad...” He mumbles as he tries but fails to get up.

  His breath is heavy on my neck with the sickly sweet smell of alcohol.

  He’s disgusting.

  “Get off!” I weakly yell.

  “I’m trying!” He stumbles again, accidentally elbowing my sensitive side, the jolting pain making it hard to inhale.

  “Get off!” I try pushing his dead-weight off again to no avail.

  Then suddenly, I could breathe. I double over on my side gasping for.

  I’m literally seeing stars.

  Then I hear Austin pleading. “Get off man you’re hurting me!”

  “Get off?” A deeper voice fumes, “Get off? Isn’t that what she said?” His voice thunders.

  I turn around, it’s James, pinning Austin’s arm behind his back shoving him hard against the wall.

  “Please man, you’re breaking my arm!” He begs.

  James grabs Austin’s hair and slams his face into the wall knocking him out. He fell to the ground like a ragdoll.

  I’m thinking that wasn’t protocol.

  Trying to get up my legs were rubber, and I fall back down shaking unable to take in enough oxygen.

  I hear the sirens outside, glad someone did have the sense to call the police.

  “April,” James says worriedly kneeling down to my side.

  I turn my face away so he doesn’t see me. I’m so pathetic crying like a baby. Get a hold of yourself April! Nothing even happened!

  “April.” He says again wrapping his arms around mine, letting me lean on him instead of my bruised elbows.

  He pulls me in closer.

  I hide my face in his shirt so he can’t see my full on sob-fest.

  This is so embarrassing. I hate my emotions. I hate that I can’t control them. I hate myself!

  No, I shouldn’t hate myself. I should hate Austin for being a stupid drunk, Greg for leaving me, Lea for dragging me here, and Pounce for tripping me.

  I hate the world.

  He cradles my head in his hand, protecting me from the judging walls, as his he can sense what I’m feeling.

  “Come on.” He whispers in my ear, “Let’s get you some help.

  6

  “No.” Pushing James away and wiping my tears, “I have to go.” I say shakily.

  I stumble up before he could say anything.

  “April, wait.” He shouts in a non-threatening manner. “Please, you need help.” He held out his hand, it is crimson with blood.

  Confused, I reach my hand to my face. My hand turns wet with blood. I stare at it, “Oh great.”

  I’m dizzy.

  My head is pounding.

  I can’t stand.

  I can’t see.

  Before I knew it, I am falling in James’s arms like a cheesy Spanish novella.

  “Just lay down.” He lowers my head down gently with his hand. He radios in for a paramedic.

  “I feel sick,” I complain.

  “Help is coming. Don’t talk, everything is fine.”

  “Stop talking to me like I’m a baby!
” I snap.

  I sit up and lean against the desk holding my side.

  My skin prickles as his eyes search me.

  “Did he hurt you anywhere else?” He asks tensely staring at my side.

  “No. I just, I tripped over my cat on the stairs earlier.” It came out sounding more ridiculous than I thought it would have.

  “Oh…”

  “Don’t laugh!”

  “I’m not! It’s just, you can be a little, I don’t know, clumsy sometimes.” He says dabbing my face with a towel.

  “Oh, now is the time to bring that up.” I sniffle.

  “No, it’s not.” He agrees sorrowfully.

  The door swiftly opens, the paramedic is swift in coming over to me and unpacking his supplies.

  A moan came from the bathroom; Austin is waking up.

  James looks over to him lividly, then back to me, “I’ll be right back.” He promises, then strode over to Austin handcuffing him violently and dragging him out of the room.

  “Follow my finger.” The man in blue commands.

  “No.” I swatt his finger away. “I have to go.”

  “Just relax you need to get checked out first.” He states with authority, like he has some.

  Shooting up, I run out of the room before anyone could block me.

  I ran, through people, over people, around people till I’m outside. Everyone is running frantic, afraid to get arrested. I move with the crowd. I’m faster and more lucid than most, I gun ahead quick; I just need to get away. I need to get home.

  Concerned, I hope Greg and Lea made it out alright.

  And I hope I can make it home without passing out.

  7

  I ran until it was just me and the forest, with the wind drying the tears on my skin. I slow my pace, I ache.

  Almost home.

  There’s a mist in front of my eyes I can’t brush away. It feels as if there’s a hatchet logged in my brain. The pain is teeth-grinding. My hand arrives at my temple and stays, in case my head decides to fall off. The incessant ring in my ears is starting to sound like high-pitched airplanes.

  It gets louder. The sound is outside of me. My shadow is eerily contrast on the dirt road.