Peep Show

by Starling, Isabella

  I wanted her to feel at home here, with me. I was already working towards my goal of having her live with me, as weird as the idea was.

  I’d never had a roommate. I lived with my parents, and then my grandmother, but never a housemate or girlfriend. It would be a completely new experience, just like so many other things when it came to Bebe.

  Once I was done with my order, I walked into the white room, and slowly started to take it apart.

  I didn’t stop until I’d stripped the bed of the sheets and pillowcases and carried in some of my photography books to break up the whiteness of the room. I threw some of my clothes on the bed, even though I would never sleep in there. It would be turned into Bebe’s room, not so she could sleep alone, but so she could get away from me the second she needed to. She needed a safe haven, whether she lived with me or not.

  Finally, I picked up my camera. I’d taken so many photos of Bebe without her knowing. All that was left to do was develop the film.

  I had a special place where I liked to do that.

  I walked down the hallway, the camera weighing heavy in my hands. I opened the window to the storage room. It was still just as small, the stench just as strong and the place just as claustrophobic as I remembered. I entered despite my body screaming, begging me not to take a step inside.

  Immediately upon stepping into the room, I was transported back to my childhood. I held back the tears as I slowly prepared everything for the film, the single bulb above me burning bright red. I forced myself to do it slowly, as if I wanted to torture myself by staying in there longer. But it was my process, the way I did things, and I couldn’t have changed anything.

  The photos came to life in front of me, all of them taken from my apartment and peeking into Bebe’s.

  I grinned at them.

  The curve of her shoulder. The thin line that imprinted itself on her skin when she’d worn fishnet tights. Her bright red nails. Her full lips. A twinkle in her eye as she caught me.

  Yes, I was already in love. There was no way I’d be able to escape what she made me feel now.

  So I might as well accept it, and prepare myself for the greatest fall of all.

  Mono no aware, noun

  The pathos of things—the awareness of the impermanence or transience of all things and the gentle sadness and wistfulness at their passing.

  The presence of my parents in the waiting room was scaring me.

  We hadn’t talked or seen each other in so long, I felt awkward in front of them, nervously stepping from foot to foot and sneaking nervous glances at the both of them. What surprised me was they seemed to be doing the same thing, watching me out of the corner of their eyes as if they were the ones who had something to be embarrassed about.

  My mom kept holding onto my hand, her fingers nervously caressing my skin as if she were afraid I’d drop into a run and get away from them any second now.

  “Do you…” the words got stuck in my throat, and I swallowed thickly so I could finish my sentence. “Do you guys want to go for dinner or something?”

  “Dinner?” Mom asked, just as Dad nodded.

  “That would be wonderful, honey,” he said, and I gave him a smile back before impulsively pulling them both in for another hug. I couldn’t help myself. I’d missed them, even if I was too chicken to admit it.

  “I know a great place that’s close by,” I said. “Do you want to say hi to Arden before we leave?”

  “We did a little while earlier,” Mom filled me in, turning towards Nick who was still standing in the hallway, looking a little bit awkward. “Nicholas, was it? Arden’s boy?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “That’s me, I guess.”

  “Do you want to come with us?” Mom asked.

  I knew she was just trying to be friendly, but the question still seemed a little weird, and Nick looked at me for confirmation. A smile lit up my face as I remembered something, and I grinned widely as I filled them in on the plan.

  “How about we get takeout delivered to the hospital?” I asked. “We can go to Arden’s room. Not for too long. I think most restaurants are closed by now, it would be hard to get a table anyway.”

  “I love that idea,” my mom beamed. “I’ll order the food.”

  “And I’ll get some snacks from the cafeteria,” Nick offered, and they nodded to one another enthusiastically before disappearing in opposite directions.

  That only left my father and me in the hallway, and neither of us could look at the other.

  I’d always been closer to Dad than Mom. Not that we hadn’t had a good relationship—we had, before I tossed it all away. But I’d always been Daddy’s girl, unashamedly so. I knew he was much more like me than my mother was and much more sensitive than he cared to admit. But the one person he cared about most in the world was… me. He never put anyone or anything above me. I was his little girl, and he was set on making my life as perfect as he possibly could.

  “Dad,” I whispered, but I still couldn’t look at him.

  It had been almost a year since I’d last seen them. I’d cut them out, and for what?

  To be cool?

  To pretend I was better than them?

  To stop being ashamed?

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” I added uselessly, feeling the tears burning my eyes as I stared intently at the floor. “I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through.”

  Posy’s death was making me question my own mortality and the life choices I’d made, which were less than stellar in most of the things I’d done.

  “It’s okay,” he answered roughly, but I could hear the pain in his voice. He patted me on the shoulder, his hand heavy and awkward. “I understand, sweetie.”

  It wasn’t right, what I’d done, but just hearing those words leaving his lips made me raise my eyes to his.

  There was no hiding the fact that I’d hurt him, maybe irreparably so. I’d given him no reason for our sudden separation when we’d been thick as thieves up until I decided I was too good for them.

  “I do understand,” he repeated with a shadow of a smile on his face. “I was young once, too. I’ve been ashamed of my parents.”

  “Dad,” I begged. “I wasn’t…”

  “I know,” he said calmly. “I know, sweetheart. Come here.”

  He pulled me in for a hug, shocking me by the sudden need to hold me close. My father was a man of action. He didn’t speak or show his affection otherwise, which made his change in behavior even more strange. But I needed it, and when I felt his strong arms close around me, I was transported back to my childhood when my father was Superman—someone I turned to with anything and everything, and who always had the answer to whatever was bothering me.

  “I won’t let it happen again,” I muttered into his arm, and he patted my back, still silly and awkward like he always was.

  “Let’s put it behind us,” he said simply, giving me a big smile. “Let’s make sure both of you girls are alright, so I can sleep better at night.”

  Thirty minutes later, we’d all gathered in Arden’s hospital room after a lot of convincing and some hundred-dollar bills being exchanged with the nurses. But now, we had the room all to ourselves, and Arden’s face lit up the second we all walked in. Her parents were there as well. I’d always gotten on with them, unlike Posy’s—they reminded me of my own, even though they were quite a bit older. But they were also fiercely protective of their daughter—something we had in common.

  We had Chinese takeout, boxes upon boxes of crispy fried chicken from the fast food joint downstairs, and some questionable snacks from the cafeteria, courtesy of Nick. We were contemplating the edibleness of the purplish-gray jello, Arden laughing so hard she nearly doubled over in her bed. She’d even gotten the doctor’s okay to have a snack, as long as it was something on her allowed list of foods, and they’d taken out her fluid injection, so she was a free woman.

  I sat on the bed with her while our parents took up the chairs, and Nick perched on the edge o
f the windowsill.

  I looked at the people around me, faced with the sharp realization that somebody was missing. Miles should’ve been there with us. He’d earned his place in my circle and now, the room felt empty without him.

  The subject of Posy weighed heavily in the air. She’d been the one to bring us all together, and the longer I thought about it, the more I realized how true that was. She was even the one who’d encouraged Arden to hang out with Nick while both she and I had dismissed the idea as nonsensical. Posy didn’t know how to take care of herself, but when it came to the people in her life, she knew exactly what was right.

  I missed her, the pain a dull ache in my chest that I knew would never go away. It would fade, slowly, slowly, until I only felt pinpricks of it years after her death. Finally, I was starting to realize she really was gone. I’d been shutting my eyes from the truth for a long time, but it was time to face the facts.

  “I miss Posy,” I blurted out when there was a lull in the conversation, and everyone’s eyes turned to find me, nervously chewing my bottom lip. “I’m sorry, I really do.”

  “I know,” Arden said softly, fidgeting with the wrapper of a fortune cookie. “I miss her too.”

  “I do as well,” Nick piped in, and we both gave him surprised looks.

  “She wasn’t very… nice to you,” I said awkwardly, and he chuckled.

  “Not to my face, no,” he said, shrugging. His eyes were on the plastic cup of Coke in his hands. “But she always encouraged Arden to spend time with me, and I guess she finally listened.”

  Arden giggled and stuck her tongue out at him, and our parents exchanged meaningful looks.

  “I’m glad I did,” she finally said, and they grinned at each other like they were in on a secret I didn’t know.

  My jealousy spiked at the sight, but the voice in my head told me to calm down. Why should I be jealous? I had my own secrets with Miles, and I was only now coming to realize how perfectly normal it was. It didn’t mean I’d have to be a different person around my friends and family, or that I had to act in a certain way. But just like I didn’t share confessions and private moments with Arden with Miles, it was also perfectly normal not to share our intimate… dates with anyone in the room.

  A little smile played on my lips as I thought about what they’d think of me if they knew what kind of things I’d been up to. My parents’ jaws would probably hit the freaking floor. Better to keep it to myself, after all.

  I caught my dad’s eye across the room and smiled at him while my mom squeezed my palm. I felt so safe in that moment, more than I did with three locks on my front door. My mind kept escaping to Miles, thinking about him with a desperation that willed him to appear back in the hospital room. I knew how tough the day had been for him though, the way he’d rushed out of the apartment. I was hopeful that he’d get better with my help.

  I made a mental note to ask him about his problems the next time I saw him. Lately, it seemed like every waking second I was with him revolved around me.

  The faint ache between my legs was still there, and I looked discreetly aside to wipe a stray tear from my face.

  What he’d done hadn’t been right, not in the slightest. But I believed him when he said he needed to get away. That things were getting too intense. Maybe it was what both of us needed to know, that we belonged together, not apart. And maybe things would be better now. Different. Special.

  “I wish I could have one last chance to speak to her,” I finally said after a long, contemplative silence. “Posy. I want to ask her some stuff.”

  “Like what?” Arden asked gently, her fingers wrapping around mine.

  I looked into her eyes and smiled weakly at the memories that were begging to be let out.

  “I would ask…” I started, my sentence trailing off into nothing.

  What would I ask?

  Maybe if she liked Miles.

  Maybe if she hated me for moving on.

  Maybe if she wanted me to join her.

  “I would ask,” I went on. “If she was proud of me.”

  Arden kissed my cheek and I smiled at her.

  “You know what?” I said. “I think she would say yes.”

  My dad stared at me across the room, and nodded.

  “Me too,” Mom piped up. “She’d be proud of both of you.”

  Arden’s parents agreed, and we sat there, a bunch of emotional messes.

  “Well,” Nick piped up awkwardly. “I hope she’d be proud of me too.”

  He came to the bed, pressing a kiss to Arden’s hair. She beamed.

  “I finally got the girl,” he winked at me, and I laughed out loud.

  Lacuna, noun

  A blank space, a missing part.

  Once I was done with the photographs, I hung them up and left them to dry. I walked out of the room feeling a bit better, though my heart was pounding with anxiety and my nose was filled with the stench of that tiny, trashed little room. I still didn’t completely understand why I put myself through the ordeal of being in there. It wreaked havoc on me, and I fucking hated it, but I couldn’t stay away. It was like my own fucking cross I had to carry for the rest of my life.

  When I walked into the living room, I felt lightheaded and weak all of a sudden, and I clung to the doorframe. My head was spinning, the wheels turning faster than ever as I tried to focus on anything but my unsteadily beating heart.

  I felt it coming before it happened, the wave of nausea and panic mixing together in a killer cocktail that threatened to make my head explode. I felt the fear coming in waves, washing over my body with nauseating speed and making me want to collapse on the floor.

  But I held myself up, willing my body not to move, stay in place and obey my mind instead. I employed every trick Dr. Halen had ever taught me, trying desperately to do what she’d said and calm my body down, distract it from the meltdown it seemed intent on having.

  I felt physically sick, bile rising in my throat and threatening to spill all over the immaculate floor in front of me.

  Spacing out, I felt my soul leaving my body and floating above myself, watching what my body was doing as though I wasn’t part of the actions that were happening in front of my very eyes.

  I watched myself drop to my knees, my palms on the floor, and scared sobs left my lips as I dry-heaved, trying to calm down, trying to take deep breaths, remembering Dr. Halen’s words. Just breathe. Breathing is control. Air in, air out, over and over again, just focus on that for as long as you can.

  Except it wasn’t working. I was panicking, my body overreacting to the stressors from outside, desperately fighting enemies that weren’t even present. I heaved and sputtered and choked on my own desperate attempts to call for help, all the while watching it from just under the ceiling, my brow furrowed and my arms crossed in front of my body, angrily looking down at myself, unable to understand why my body wasn’t following the simplest of instructions.

  “Help!” I called out, but it didn’t come out right, it was just a desperate little croak.

  I felt panic seeping through my pores, making the room stink of desperation. I was all alone, something I’d worked hard for, but that now seemed like the most frightening thing of all.

  Crawling on the floor, I dragged myself to the couch and attempted to pull myself upwards, but my motions were shaky, my legs barely able to support my weight. I crashed down on the couch and regretted it immediately, the soft white leather sticking to my skin and reminding me of just how vulnerable I was.

  The panic and absolute resignation to my fear were the worst I’d ever experienced.

  Yes, I’d had panic attacks before, but nothing like this. Nothing this crazy fucking intense, where I knew with absolutely no doubt it was going to be the end of me and I was going to fucking die like this, all alone, with nobody to remember me.

  Her face appeared in my mind, the beautiful line of her stubborn jaw making me want to run my fingers over the bones, her skin, her plump lips. I couldn’t remember
her name, though. All that mattered was her face, and I did my very best to remember every single detail of her beauty, as if that alone could save me.

  I remembered her lips. The bottom lip slightly exaggerated, full and plump. The way her perfect teeth dug into her bottom lip, making it lose the bright color, as if she was getting ready for me to sink into her. Anticipation in her beautiful eyes. The way her dark brown hair fell down her back so perfectly; the way her tan skin erupted in goosebumps every single time I was near her. The way it felt under my fingertips, tender and sweet and silky. I wanted to taste her. But she wasn’t there. I was completely and utterly alone.

  “Help!” I cried out again, and this time, my voice wasn’t as quiet or broken.

  My soul felt a magnetic pull back into my body, but I resisted it with all my might, preferring to watch from above. I was hallucinating, fucking seeing things that weren’t even there, and I hated myself for it. Hated that I was so damn vulnerable, that I was crumbling by myself, that I couldn’t even pick myself up from the couch and call for help. I was a fucking mess, and embarrassment flooded my body along with absolute, concrete shame because of what was happening.

  You’re a man, Miles, I remembered the bitter voice saying. Act like one! Be better than your parents! Don’t succumb! BE BETTER!

  Except I couldn’t, because this shit had been placed in my crib when I was a fucking kid, like a fairy making fun of the man I could have been, and punishing me instead, dumping every fucked-up thing it could think of on me as a baby. Maybe there had been a chance for me to turn out alright, but it was a long time ago, and just like everybody else, I knew now that I was doomed. It was the reason everyone else had given up on me, after all. I was destined to die alone.