Flood

  “Ooooooh!” She voices in crescendo with a thousand implications.

  “Don't get too excited; he's cooking again. But he promised not to burn anything this time.”

  She laughs, “wish someone would make me dinner.”

  “My mom is, tomorrow.”

  “You know what I mean.” She finishes her cereal and slurps the milk. “And don't worry,” she says, “I'll cover for you again if things get kinky,” she winks.

  Tapping my foot in annoyance, “By the way, will you drop me off?”

  “Of course, always willing to help out my sister from another mister.” She obliges, bouncing up on the bed.

  Cleaning my brushes in the jar of water, “I need to go to work,” I say wiping the paint off my fingers.

  “And I need to get some sun,” she gets up stroking her already too dark skin.

  Biting my tongue as try not to tell her she's getting orange and leathery, I watch as she takes her bowl downstairs. Telling Lea not to do something would be like trying to put out a fire with gasoline, she will only do it more. Staring at the finished painting, I can't help but wonder if I will ever know the reason for the existence of the ghosts or if they will be permanent residents in my life. I just hope they don't become real, like the flowers in the greenhouse did.

  60

  Knocking on his door, I can already smell the aroma of something Mediterranean cooking on the other side.

  Opening the door, he reaches out and pulls me in for a hug, "I didn't burn anything, " he whispers seductively into my ear.

  Giggling, I hug him tightly around the waist.

  Walking halfway down his hallway he grabs my hand pulling me back to him like a retracting fishing lure.

  “I have something for you,” he says with a hand behind his back.

  “You didn't have to get me anything; it's technically not even my birthday yet.”

  “I know I know, but I couldn't help it.” He twirls me around so my back is to him, “close your eyes.”

  Shutting my eyes, I feel him sweep my hair off to one side and drape a necklace around my neck, kissing it as he does.

  “Okay, open them.” He tries to stifle his excitement.

  Looking into the hallway mirror with excitement, I’m almost speechless; I manage to whisper, " it's beautiful," a dazzling crystalline owl graces my neck. Tracing the owl's wings with my fingertips I turn to him, “I love it, so fucking much.” I force myself not to tear up.

  Laughing at my overzealous language he runs his fingers through my hair, putting it back in place and then gently cupping my face. Leaning into his hand, I put mine over his, he pulls me in for a kiss that was hard and unyielding. Parting for a second, “happy birthday” he whispers. Then looks to me with purpose in his eyes, pulling me back in.

  Electricity sears my veins, the heat knotting my arteries as his hands searches my body. His body made pleasure the way mine made blood. Thoughts hung in my head like clouds, but I let the winds take them. Don't ruin this.

  Peeling off my sweater it drops to the floor as he runs his hands over my arms, "what about dinner, aren't you hungry?" I ask teasingly.

  "Starving." He whispers, brushing past my cheek and nipping my ear.

  My body aches for something it’s never had. Staring at each other for a solid minute it felt like we were in a standoff, caught between taking it slow and devouring each other.

  “You smell like the river,” He lunges forward, kissing me deeply, “and taste like it too.”

  I crave him.

  Pushing me gently against the wall his body presses into mine, becoming one with our movements. Needing each other more than air, he lifts me up carrying me to his bed to continue our affair. Under his weight, he kisses my neck trailing down onto my collarbone and I let out a noise I never made before. Pushing back my hair he kisses me harder than before and I can't get enough.

  The clouds return, I try blowing them away, but they remain. Am I ready for this? Wanting all of him more than anything, I kiss him harder, letting him know. His hand trails up my dress, traveling places no one else ever has. He quickly pulls his shirt over his head with one arm and begins pulling down the straps of my dress while kissing the tender spot on my neck. My hands run through his hair and over his hard body, skin hot like a fever.

  I'm ready.

  Hovering over top of me, "I think I found almost all of them." He says playfully.

  "All of what?" I question breathlessly.

  “Your favorite areas.” His eyes are full of temptation.

  I eye him curiously not exactly sure if his meaning.

  “You like it when I touch you here," he caresses my bottom lip with his thumb, “and here,” he states kissing the tender spot of my neck just below my ear causing me to let out a pleasured giggle.

  “And here,” his thumb traces down the nape of my neck as he kisses the shallow area between my collar bones.

  “Am I right so far?” He asks teasingly, looking down at me.

  “Yes,” I say staring into his eyes unable to hide my satisfaction.

  Lacing his fingers through mine, he restrains me against the mattress; I let him take control as his lips move further south over my breasts.

  “And here?” He asks knowing the answer from my pleased cries.

  “Yes,” I whisper, yearning for more.

  Taking his right hand, he slowly traces the places he's already been and then goes much further.

  “Yes,” I moan without him asking this time, closing my eyes.

  Going further into me, with teasing movements, “and here?”

  “James…” I gasp, his name caught in my throat.

  He goes deeper, “or here?” He questions in a low voice.

  I arch myself into him letting him know, “yes,” I whisper under my breath, “yes.” I claw into his shoulder with my free hand, digging in deeper as he does.

  He transports me to someplace I've never been before, my body flooding with magic, toes tingling, and lights dancing in my vision as if I was going blind.

  Trying to catch my breath, “that's not fair.” I say incredulously.

  He lets out a murmured laugh, “what?” He plants kisses around my face.

  “I don't know your favorites.” I lovingly touch his face, thumbing his lips as he did mine.

  “I'll show you…” he whispers into my ear.

  Towering over me he begins undoing the buckle of his jeans, slowly stripping without breaking eye contact; he's in no rush.

  My body shivers watching this display, his naked body more beautiful than I could have imagined, like a Greek statue. I can tell he likes being in control by the way he undresses me first with his eyes, then with his hands. My anxiety skyrockets as he takes his time, closing my eyes I try to control my breathing.

  “Look at me,” he gently demands, “too fast?”

  Gazing up at him I shake my head, “just nervous,” I smile.

  “We can stop, just say the word.” He combs his hand through my hair.

  His calm voice soothes my nerves like a tonic, “no,” I remark, “I need you.”

  My lips parts under his as he gave me his medicine. I've never felt this high as he eases into me, our bodies falling into a lovers rhythm. Our melody was slow and heavy, and breathing in each other's air made me dizzy. I felt like a prism dividing his light into its infinite spectrum, and like a thousand comets were simultaneously tearing through the sky.

  My muscles tighten and convulse as we lay there, bodies entwined, sated and unable to move.

  “Is it always like this?” I ask, short of breath.

  He nuzzles himself into me, his facial hair tickling my neck, “tell me in the morning.”

  My heart flutters.

  61

  Wearing nothing but a necklace and his warmth I wake to the scream of steel and iron from the train in the distance as it thunders past. I've never been so literally naked and vulnerable before yet never felt so safe. Unable to remember the last time I sle
pt this wonderful I cuddle under his weight with his arm wrapped around me and listen to his breathing. I've been waiting so long to feel this peace, this calm.

  The scary thing about loving another person, having them be your calm is that they can take your happiness away from you at any moment. I realize James and I have been going 75 in a 35 these last few weeks, but I am unashamed. He's more than proven his love for me while I have yet to say it back. It's as if I get confused and my mind stops functioning around him. It's funny how the human brain operates 24 hours a day, everyday for our whole lives and only stops when we die or fall in love.

  He stirs.

  His breathing pattern changes as he slowly wakes up, eyes fluttering as they look straight into mine and teases his fingers through my hair. This is why animals love being petted so much; it's heaven in his fingertips. We groggily close our eyes and just exist for a while in silence, letting the rising sun creep through the cracks of the curtains. Maybe new beginnings can be a person, not a place.

  Kissing me on the forehead while cradling my hip, “happy birthday,” he whispers.

  I smile in return.

  “What would you like for breakfast?” He asks kissing my bruised fingertips.

  “Nothing, I don't eat on my birthday so I can save all the room for cake and ice cream. Obviously.” I joke.

  “You've got to let me make you something, we didn't exactly eat last night, you must be starving,” he traces his fingers along my arm.

  “Not really, tea would be nice though.” I hint, stretching my limbs. “Would you take me to work?” I ask innocently.

  “Of course,” he says while sitting up exposing his bare body. “Take a shower with me,” he pleads looking back at me.

  “Showers are for getting clean,” I remind him, knowing we'll do more than just wash ourselves in there.

  “Come on,” he takes my hand.

  I give in.

  62

  Motionless he watches from the trees, but you shouldn’t mistake his stillness for inactivity, that’s how crocodiles get their meal. He’s been watching, waiting for her to come to her senses, but disgusted from what he’s witnessed he knows he’s going to have to bring her to her senses another way. He’s been dreading this, but knows now he has to do it. It’s time.

  63

  Putting books away in their rightful place has that same satisfaction of finishing a puzzle. And it smells magnificent as well. Beginning to work on the next stack of books I grab the inventory chart to fill it out.

  Frannie suddenly appears around the corner and yanks the clipboard from me, “go home, I can do this,” she commands in a sweet voice.

  “I still have an hour left,” I say looking at the clock, genuinely wanting to stay.

  “One hour is nothing, go home and spend it with your family,” she hands me an envelope, “happy birthday sweetie.” She watches, waiting for me to open it.

  Carefully I tear it open to find a gift card for the bookstore. My face lights up like the sky after an eclipse.

  “Now you can stop spending your paychecks here,” she smiles and winks.

  Giving her a firm hug, “thank you so much!” I shout with excitement. “I'll try not to use it up in a day.”

  “Don't make promises you can't keep.” She laughs while filling out the inventory from, “now go home. Go,” she shoos me out the door with the clipboard like I'm an intrusive pigeon.

  * * *

  As each summer dies in the sky, the city goes to sleep early, and the streets seem so much more smaller when deserted. Not having seen the sun for weeks I sometimes forget that it exists. The cloudy days are as natural as the seasons as is the summer storm brewing overhead, refusing to rain.

  Having an hour until Lea picks me up, I decide to just mill around town. Strolling down a small street of closed stores I window shop memories. There is an old ballet school up ahead I used to attend when I was young. It was once my favorite thing in the world until bouts of crippling depression and anxiety took hold. Everyone thought it was laziness. Eventually, I quit as I did many things and here I pass what could have been like a seed never sowed. As time passed so did my chance of picking it back up did and as I got taller my dreams got smaller and the less I tried.

  This town is dripping with nostalgia, and not always the good kind, but the exact kind I've been running away from. Running my fingers along the letters on the glass when I notice all of my ghosts in the reflection, standing in attention.

  The air suddenly chills and my breath became visible. Slowly turning around the ghosts are gone, but a person remains, Miller. A sharp dry anger lingers in his face; his intentions as cold as winter.

  Instinct told my legs to run; anxiety froze my body into place. Instincts were right as he charges forward throwing me against the glass cracking it where my temple hits. The impact left my head spinning. Pinning me against my back, he holds a rag with a searing chemical smell against my face. Holding my breath, I kick and scratch as hard and fast as I could before whatever chemical he is using set in. Eyes watering from the fumes, it is hard to see anything, but I don't need sight to kick him where it counts. As he fell away, I knee him in the stomach and kick him in the head as he hits the ground.

  Fleeing, he grabs my foot and I fall to the ground landing on my bare knees and sanding my hands trying to brace for the fall. Something cracks in my arm, but the adrenaline is numbing me to the pain.

  Kicking myself free from his grip I quickly stand only to almost faint down the side of the building; I must have inhaled some of the chemicals. A scream caught in my throat, my body isn't working properly.

  Run. I know that much. Steadying myself on the side of the building I run for the forest behind the ballet school I used to sneak out to during lessons. I know the forest, I can navigate it to safety while he would get lost. My breaths are shallow and short as I try to take in air without panicking.

  Stopping in front of a metal fence that never use to be here I don't hesitate to start climbing. My movements are short and jerky as I tremble up to the top. The fence shakes from impact as he reaches up grabbing my sweater. Letting it rip off my back my hands hold tight to the top bar as he tries pulling at my legs down as I kick and thrash. Losing my grip, I plunge backward to the graveled cement, slamming my head back almost knocking me out.

  Dazed I try to act, but he sits on top of me pressing the rag over my face holding me down with his free arm. Wavering in and out of consciousness, I attempt to fight back, but I’m slow and slipping away.

  This is a nightmare. I will wake up next to James running his fingers through my hair, and kissing my forehead. I will wake up from this. I will wake up.

  My limbs go limp at my sides. I feel like I'm glitching, like I'm pixelating, my color bars are rearranging, the static climbs up my throat and the white noise reaches my eyes, my brain feels like it's being bent in waves, similar to when you put a magnet to an old tv screen, then everything falls backward into a void, as if being sucked into a black hole, into a mute, formless, vacuum, and with a treble racing through my veins and a loud, bright blip of the screen; I'm gone. Is this death?

  The last thing I see is a shadow hovering over me set against the stormy skies, and then I fall away.

  70

  “I drove around the block like ten times now what should I do?” Lea asks James panicky as she drives around town frantically looking through the rapid windshield wipers for me, heavy rains obstructing her view.

  “Keep looking I'm coming to help.” He hangs up trying to hide the worry in his voice.

  It's past eleven now and they've called everyone they know searching for me.

  My mother paces the kitchen floor looking tensely into James' eyes, “well?” She asks.

  He shakes his head, “I'm going to help look,” he says grabbing his jacket for the rainy summer night.

  “I'm coming with you,” she demands, almost slipping on the one the streamers strewn about the floor.

  “Someone needs
to be here when she returns, she probably just started walking home and took shelter somewhere from the rain.”

  Beaming at each other in a deadlock of apprehension, she eventually gives in with an anguished huff.

  Dismayed, she starts doing the dishes as she tries not to look at the candles that sit unused by the cake. She doesn't touch the frosting spoon as I'm always the one to lick it clean every birthday.

  “Everything will be fine I promise,” he reassures her as he leaves, passing the new car they bought me as a present on his way out.

  My mother shifts the presents around on the table watching James leave, trying to ignore the growing knot in her stomach and sting of tears in her eyes. She knows something is wrong, a mother always knows.

  64

  Floating in nothingness, a dark void, it's like I'm in a barren black sea. Its barren but not cold, it's comforting like the sentient water is alive, cradling me into a deep sleep. Washing away my problems, my past. I could stay here forever.

  Jolted awake, I groggily open my eyes hoping to find myself in a different situation, but it's only worsened. Blindfolded and gagged, I try pulling apart the ropes binding my hands behind my back but I'm too shaky and weak with anxiety. Hitting a bump in the road, my head slams against the raw metal interior sending stars dancing in my vision. Judging by the bumps and holes we keep hitting we are definitely off the main roads. Hope of rescue dwindles by the minute the worse the road gets. I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Like a feeling of perpetually missing a step walking down the stairs and I am awaiting the consequence.

  Time is thick like jelly, unsure of how much had passed, all I know is that I need to get out of here. Unable to undo the ropes, I lace my hands under each leg bringing my bonds in front of me. Taking off my gag and blindfold achieves nothing vision wise as there are no windows and the front seats are partitioned off by a metal wall. The tight thin rope is wound around my wrists multiple times in a knot similar to the one James used to tie his boat to the dock. Pulling at the ropes with my teeth, I only wish I had paid closer attention to what he was doing.