Burnout

by Taryn Eason

  I smiled, watching her tilt slowly in my vision. "I'm as awesome as ever. How about you, mom?"

  "You know you're too young to be drinking." She said from the doorway, too flustered to say anything else.

  I took another sip, the flames tickling my lips. "You know that's never stopped me before."

  "Sweetie, it's on fire! Stop hurting yourself!" She called.

  I laughed, finding it funny that she had so much good will in her voice, but she didn't even try to take it from me. Did she actually care, or did she just tell me to stop because that's what she was supposed to do?

  I stood up, the room twirling around me. I kept a lighter in my bedside table for candles, even though I hadn't needed it in a while. I grabbed the lighter and flicked it on, holding it under my palm. "I'm not hurting myself at all."

  "Maybelle, stop! What are you doing?"

  "It's just a trick I can do. I'd show dad, but he'd have me burned at the stake, which, now that I think about it, actually sounds like it would be fun. Let's go show him." I was very drunk.

  "No, sweetie, I think you should stay in here."

  "What's wrong? I can't go show my dad my cool trick?"

  "I just don't want him to see you like this and get upset with you." She reasoned.

  "Why not? I have to see him like this every day. Why is it any different?"

  "You know how he gets, Maybelle. I think you should just close your door and go to sleep so he doesn't see you like this."

  My mouth began speaking before I could stop myself. "I love how you keep trying to sugarcoat that. You shouldn't have to try to protect me from my own father. You see how he treats me and the only thing you've ever done about it was tell me to stay away from him. What kind of mother are you?"

  She pursed her lips. Delilah pushed her head through the doorway. "Is everything okay?"

  "No, it's not okay", my mother responded. "Your sister is drunk. Do you mind helping me watch her?"

  "Sure. That way I can help her if anything goes wrong. I might need to be the one to talk to her anyway." She stepped in the room. "You know, it's Dad's birthday in a few hours. Don't you want to spend some time with the family for once?"

  "No. He told me I was the reason we didn't have a good relationship."

  "Well, he's in there waiting for his daughters to wish him a happy birthday and you're alone getting drunk in your room and sulking."

  "I'll go if he apologizes first."

  She crouched down beside me. "Maybelle, why can't you ever be responsible? Am I going to have to spend the rest of my life taking care of you?"

  "No, feel free to leave any time you want. I won't stop you."

  "It doesn't work like that. You can't just keep disrespecting our parents and using drugs to get away from your problems."

  "I'm not even high. It's 1800." I said, holding up the bottle.

  "Alcohol is a drug. Maybe you'd know that if you ever went to class. But seriously, you have a great life. Mom and dad do everything for you. You have everything you want, I mean, just look at your car. You could have things a lot worse."

  I thought about my car. I had a lot of nice things growing up, so many that what personality traits would be red flags in others were interpreted as teenage angst in me. After all, Delilah's life was perfect, so mine must be also.

  "So could you. You could be me."

  I couldn't read her eyes well, but for a split second I saw some sympathy before it quickly faded. "That's no excuse for anything. We were raised exactly the same. The only reason you freak out like this any time you're chastised is because you're a spoiled brat who has no respect for anyone but yourself. I used to want to help you, but I'm not so naive anymore.” She crossed her arms. “I just got back from Peru. Tomorrow, I'm leaving for a tour of Asia. I am already on the cover of 52 major magazines worldwide and I don't have time for your shenanigans. Now pick yourself up, because I'm not doing it for you anymore." She spat. I'd never heard her speak so angrily before.

  I put my hand on the leg of my desk to help myself to stand. The wood snapped from the heat of my hands, the sound sending a rush of memories to my head.

  The chair smashed against the wall, leaving it splintered across my room.

  "What did I tell you about leaving the milk out of the refrigerator?" He shouted, picking me out of my bed by my shirt and throwing me to the ground.

  I curled up in the corner of my room, sobbing. "I'm sorry daddy, I won't do it again."

  "Why should I believe you? You've always been a lying piece of shit, so why would you change now?"

  "I'm sorry." I said fearfully.

  He stepped over to my corner, picking up the splintered end of the desk chair as I shook fearfully. He was so close I could feel his breath on my face.

  I winced as he brought the plank against my side. I rolled over clutching my aching ribs. "I've given you everything you have, and all you ever do is leave shit out and ruin things. When will you leave, Janet?"

  I saw something out of the corner of my eye in my mirror. I could see one big brown eye timidly peeking in from the edge of the doorway. I had no idea how long she had been there, but as soon as my eyes met hers, she was gone.

  "Now clean this up, you made a mess." He said, pitching the wood at the wall before making his exit.

  I exhaled, thankful that it was over. I wiped my nose and began gathering the remains of my desk chair to throw away.

  "Wow, what did you do, get mad at your chair?" Delilah joked, walking in.

  "I didn't do this." I replied shortly.

  "Yeah right, I bet you're just upset because you failed your math test so you decided to take it out on the chair."

  I paused. "Is that really what you think?"

  She stared at me innocently. "Yeah."

  My mind faded back to the present as I felt myself shaking. My hands were too hot for the touch screen of my phone to work. "Delilah, please call someone that can calm me down."

  "Why, what's wrong? Why are you heating up? Did I make you mad?"

  "Jesus Christ, Delilah, just shut up and listen to me for once!"

  She pursed her lips and scrolled through my phone. "You know Tyler's probably still at church. Do you have any other friends?"

  "No." I said. I was breathing fast. I felt hot. Not my usual kind of hot, but more like I was being strangled. I imagined the windows breaking and filling with water until only my head remained above.

  I stood up, hoping to clear my head. I attempted to walk, which wasn't the easiest task, thanks to the alcohol. I wanted to go outside, but I knew there wasn't anything that could stop this. I felt a wave coming on and all I could hope for was a safe place to ride it out.

  My clothes began to smoke as I made my way down the stairs. They were completely on fire by the time I reached the bottom. I was breathing fast, growing hotter by the second. All I wanted was to go outside.

  "Honey, do you smell fire?" My mother said. My inebriated brain hadn't realized that she was in the middle of my path to the outside. My father and she were sitting together on the couch.

  She turned around to investigate the smell and screamed when she saw me.

  My father quickly got up from the couch in a swift motion and turned to face me, and suddenly I was looking into a mirror of the same face I had spent so many years giving to him.

  His big green eyes so full of fear triggered something in me and my attitude changed. I was so afraid of how he would judge me if he found out about my powers that I hadn't even imagined the outcome. He could always scare the old Maybelle, but how can you scare fire? My tears stopped sizzling and what remained was sadistic rage. I had spent so long being his lamb that I didn't even realize when I became a lion.

  I caught a glimpse of myself reflected inside the glass of a framed portrait. My skin was red and my clothes were burning and I looked absolutely terrifying. It was perfect.

  "Hi, dad, it's me, Janet." I smiled, steam billowing from my mouth. I walked towards him as he stepped
back until he was pressed against the wall.

  "Do I scare you?"

  His jaw clenched and I stared at the horror in his green eyes.

  "Good," I touched the center of his shirt, burning a hole through it, but taking care not to touch his skin. "Because you're a piece of shit."

  "Stop it! Don't hurt him!" My mother called.

  I turned around and was temporarily stunned as a bucket of water was thrown onto me, in my mother’s futile attempt to cool me down.

  "Good job, Mom. I'm still dry, and now our couch and floor are soaked. Good thing I can dry them off." I clenched my hand on the arm of the couch and watched it sizzle and burst into flames.

  "Maybelle," My mother managed. She spoke in a low voice, obviously on the brink of tears. "Are you still my daughter Maybelle?"

  "Of course, mom. You know, I wish I was more like you. Too bad I got this fiery temper from dad's side, right?" I laughed, feeling enthralled with my instability.

  "All right. Whatever you are, you have five seconds to leave my house before you're dead!" I heard my father's voice shout.

  I turned to find him gripping a rifle that was pointed directly at me. My skin turned from red to white as the laminate floor blistered from my fear.

  He fired and the bullet ricocheted off the marble countertop behind me. My body instinctively lurched away and my mindset changed from predator to prey. I moved to the front door to run away, but another shot landed in between myself and the entranceway and I jumped back, slipping on the melted laminate and falling backwards.

  I stared at the intensity in my father's eyes behind the barrel. He didn't hesitate at all. There was no sympathy or remorse, only a wild fury. I stayed down as he approached me to gain more accuracy.

  I winced and closed my eyes in anticipation, and then the next bullet fired.

  I waited for a bit for the pain to start. When I felt nothing, I was confused. The only thing that was hurting were my ears from the noise. I quickly recovered from my shock as I heard a loud shuffling.

  I opened my eyes to see a struggle on the floor. The gun had been thrown against the wall and my father had been tackled.

  "Get off me! Are you actually defending that thing?" My father shouted, struggling to get up.

  "Are you trying to kill your own daughter, you heartless prick?" Lye responded.

  My father reached for the gun and Lye threw him back before taking a punch to the face.

  "You're really making me regret saving your life." My father said to Lye.

  “I hope you regret it as much as I do." Lye fired back coldly.

  Lye finally grabbed the gun and threw it farther away from both of them.

  "Maybelle, go outside! Cool down and get in my car!"

  It was clear Lye was trying not to hurt my father. I remember how he treated Caleb and he could win very easily against my 50-year-old dad. He was just trying to stall him for my sake.

  I got up to leave and I heard my father shout "Get out of my house! I don't know what you are, but you're not my daughter and-" He pushed against Lye to reach for the gun. "I'll kill you if you even try to come back!"

  Then Lye landed a swift punch to his face and I saw him go limp. I locked eyes with my mother and Delilah, who both stared at me with the same pursed lipped expression as I left.

  Chapter 16

  The whole incident had effectively sobered me up. I stood in my driveway and struggled to calm down so I wouldn't burn his car.

  "Hurry up!" Lye called as he ran and hopped into the driver's side.

  "How did you know what was happening?" I asked.

  "Delilah," he panted, "She texted me from your phone and said you needed me ASAP."

  He came so quickly. He must have dropped everything and headed to help me. I felt ashamed that I pulled him away from whatever he was doing.

  "Thank you." I stared at him. His nose was still bleeding. "I'm sorry you got hurt though."

  "This is nothing. I've had way worse." He smiled. "Your dad's a dick though. What was that all about?"

  "I started it. I was on fire and trying to clear my head and he saw me. He reacted normally so I can't really blame him."

  "You don't pull a gun on your daughter. You also don't refer to your daughter as 'that thing'. And I don't care how much you scared him, he shouldn't have tried to shoot you."

  "I went up to him and taunted him while I was on fire. I had been drinking and I acted stupidly."

  "Don't try to justify it." He said, the passing streetlights glinting off of his face. "You deserve better than that."

  I was silent. I felt tears welling in my eyes. My own father had just tried to kill me. He had done awful things in the past, but nothing like that. Plus my mother did nothing to stop it. She just stood there like she didn't even recognize me. She asked if I was still me, as if she didn't know the answer. I came from her body and she acted like she didn't recognize me.

  If my own parents didn't even love me, who could?

  "Are you okay with staying at my place tonight? I don't know if it's such a good idea to go back."

  I nodded.

  He drove up to the house and unlocked the door. I walked inside and sat on the couch. He returned shortly with a t shirt and pajama pants to cover my fire suit.

  "You never show up here clothed do you?" He joked.

  "I can't help it. I'm just really bad at keeping clothes on. Isn't that how you like your women?" I replied, thankful for something to break my mood. The clothes were in my size, and I smiled at the thought that he had most likely bought them for me, just in case.

  "Yeah, but I already told you jailbait isn't my thing. Have any friends who are more focused on careers than prom dates?"

  "Nope. And I'll have you know I've been eighteen for almost seven months now."

  "And I haven't been eighteen for almost seven years now."

  I laughed. "I don't get you at all. You show up for me at the drop of a dime, even get into a fight for me and you don't even want to sleep with me. What's wrong with you?"

  "Honestly?" He started. "You remind me of myself. When I was a teenager, I was a little rebellious, but nothing too serious. Just the occasional sneaking out to drink or smoke weed. My older brother was my best friend. Grayson and I did everything together. When he turned eighteen, he joined the Marines. I wanted to be just like him because he was so perfect to me. Every time he was deployed, I would wait for him to come home.”

  He paused. “That is, until the one time he didn't. It absolutely wrecked me. I was seventeen when he passed and it completely changed how I saw the world. I was so lost without him guiding me. I didn't want to end up the same way as he did, so I didn't go the same route as he did. I went to more parties, I tried worse things. Then I met Melanie."

  "She was the girl from the Lakinobe party, right?" I asked.

  "Yeah. She was so confident and full of life, the exact opposite of me. Anything she did, I followed. She was into partying and selling drugs, so I did the same. I even moved to Chicago, where she's from. Turns out her father was the kingpin of a drug ring called the Glitch. He loved me. He thought I would be a good influence on his daughter, who was already spiraling out of control. I was so enticed by her, though, that I just followed her. We began traveling the world doing all sorts of awful things. We stayed together for five years."

  "What happened?"

  "I stopped and realized that it's not what my brother would have wanted for me. I realized that I've spent my life following him and following her and neither of them were leading me to where I wanted to be. So I left. I had a talk with Melanie's dad and he agreed to let me go with no consequences, even though he wasn’t very happy with it. So I used the money I had made to get certified as a tattoo artist and buy the shop down here."

  "Why did you choose the shop here? You could have gone anywhere."

  "I was always fascinated by the legend of the Reeki as I was growing up, so I had to see it in person. I chose the town Winona lived in because I wanted
to meet the person that my grandfather chose as the most pure out of everybody. I guess, after the environment that I had lived in, I wanted to see what a good person looked like so that I could be one someday."

  He had never been so open about his life. He always had such a mysteriousness to him. I wondered what it was about Melanie that had made him so crazy for her. She was this exciting carefree rich girl, and he was just the misguided puppy that followed her aimlessly. I could definitely see some similarities in us, but my need for independence seemed to be far greater than his.

  He was lost when Grayson died, but I couldn't imagine feeling anything if Delilah died. She'd just returned home after a month and I barely even minded that she was gone. Lye and I were definitely different.

  "I think you're a good person." I said.

  "I'm not, but I'm glad you think so." He smiled.

  "As a Certified Bad Person, I know what we look like and you aren't one of us. Take the compliment, loser." I joked.

  "I can take a compliment. Can you?" He asked.

  "What do you mean?"

  "You did awesome at not burning your house down. I would have burned your father to a pile of bones."

  "Yeah, I thought about it, but jail doesn't sound fun.”

  "You're right about that. Proud to say I’ve never been." He looked down for a second. "Hey, I just wanted you to know you can stay here as long as you want."

  "I, um, thanks, but I don't have any money. I can't really pay rent or anything, so I don't want to be a burden on you. I'll probably just stay here for a few days or so until my parents cool off."

  "I see how they treat you, Maybelle. That's not healthy. I don't care about rent or anything, I just think you deserve to be treated like a human being. It's whatever you want though."

  He was always so kind to me. His little confidence-boosting lessons in our conversations were so paternal. He made me feel like I actually did deserve to be treated like a person. I wished my father was more like Lye. I would have turned out so much better than I had.

  "But what about the Glitch? Don't they still want to kill me?" I asked, remembering why he stopped talking to me.