by Azzurra Nox
“Dior, I’m sorry. Truth is, I can be a jerk sometimes.”
“Please don’t tell anyone you found me this way. I don’t want anyone to know.”
“You can’t hide out forever.”
“I know. I’m just waiting to heal, maybe it won’t scar so much?” she asked with a hopeful tone in her voice.
“I don’t know what happened, but I’ll do anything to help you find out.”
“How?”
His lingering suspicion returned and he asked, “Do you remember seeing a girl that night?”
“At the prom?”
“No, afterwards.”
“I…I don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember seeing anyone looking strange that night? Dressed in black?”
“No…no…I don’t,” her words sounded sincere and he thought that maybe the blow to her head when she went through the glass could’ve given her some sort of short term amnesia. But he couldn’t help but think that Adriel had something to do with Dior’s downfall, just as she had been the cause for Amelia’s. His heart swelled in guilt, recalling the angry red slashes that riddled Dior’s face. Would she ever be beautiful again? Or had she lost the best trait she had? Feeling queasy and lightheaded, he pulled away, reaching out for the doorknob.
“Your secret is safe with me. I’ve gotta go for now.”
“Okay,” she said, he could feel her eyes on him as he fumbled with the locks, unlocking the door. He pulled on the knob letting in fragments of lights from the bulbs in the hall seeping into the black room.
“Whatever happens, don’t think that you have to hide forever.”
“You don’t know what it means to lose the most important attribute you own.”
“Dior, we’re not our exterior. Our exterior is just the package we come in. You were one of the lucky ones who came in a pretty package. But what really defines you is what you are on the inside. Don’t let this break you.”
“You can say that because it didn’t happen to you.”
Jon hastily rushed out of the door, not being able to say anything back to her. She was right to some extent. It hadn’t happened to him, and his good intentioned words rang like some hypocritical script out of some self-esteem pamphlet. He didn’t wait for Dior’s maid to show up, he rushed downstairs in such a hurry that he was certain that he left skid marks on the carpeted steps. Guilt gnawed at him like a piranha chewing up a morsel of meat in a matter of seconds. Maybe Adriel was right that he was the cause for the girls’ demise. Perhaps he should be the one to pay for breaking them, rather than the girls. Milly paid with her life, whilst Dior paid with her beauty. Working on instinct, he soon found himself outside, lighting up a cigarette as he approached his car.
Once inside the vehicle, he took long drags of the cigarette, and pulling his long sleeves up, he added more burns to his already abused scar infused skin. Somehow the self-mutilation gave him a sense of relaxation, giving him the peace he sought. Serenity rippled down his limbs, and he leaned back into the driver’s seat to relish in the sensation of release. Burning himself was like liberating his soul of tears that he couldn’t cry. He closed his eyes and wished for a way to undo his past actions or to disappear completely. Either of the two would bring him much joy. But he knew that wish was only a chimera, and that he must face the consequences of his actions, however terrible and unfair they appeared to be. The past couldn’t be undone, and the future was ever changing.
Chapter Twenty-One
“People say this park is haunted,” Connor told Sydney as the two of them hiked along a trail in Griffith Park. Goosebumps traveled along Sydney’s forearm when he said that, and she looked around as though she were expecting a pale ghostly figure to jump out at them at any given moment. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, even if the weather was on the grey side. They usually went surfing, but they had decided to do something different that morning. School had ended a couple of days ago, and Connor wanted to celebrate their induction to becoming seniors by doing something fun. In a bag Sydney was carrying cupcakes, chips, and candies, while Connor carried a pack of coke.
Once they reached a little open space that was private enough for them to set out a colorful blanket that Sydney had brought along, they both sat down. The trees were tall around them, and she couldn’t help but feel like the area lingered with a sinister presence. Or maybe it was just her impression since Connor had mentioned about the place being haunted.
“What are the rumors about this park?” Sydney began to pull out the contents in the bags, displaying the sprinkled cupcakes.
“A pretty starlet killed herself by jumping off the Hollywood sign back in the 1930’s. Now some people say that they can see her ghost.”
“That’s pretty creepy.”
“Yeah,” he said as he cracked open a couple of cokes and poured the contents in two large plastic cups. Then he pulled a small flask from his leather jacket.
“What’s that?”
“What kind of celebration would it be without the booze, Syd?” he said with a wink, showing her the rum bottle as he poured a generous amount in each of the cups. He shook the cups so that the alcohol mixed in with the soda. “Here,” handing her a cup.
Sydney took the plastic cup, spilling some of the its contents on the blanket. “Damn,” she muttered, then she raised it in sign of a toast. “To becoming seniors, yeah?”
Connor nodded as he clanked the cups together, and more of the dark liquid fell down on the blanket and they laughed, before drinking heartily.
“Damn, this is strong!” Sydney said feeling the alcohol travel down her throat and burning a hole in her stomach.
“You’re such a lightweight, Syd, it’s not that bad,” he chugged more of the drink down as though he were drinking water. “What’s up with Jon? How come he didn’t join us?”
“I didn’t ask him to.”
“Why not?”
“I just figured that we haven’t hung out just the two of us in a long time.”
“Fair enough,” he poured more coke into the cup and the rum followed suit right after. His black rimmed eyes looked at her with a knowing gaze. “I don’t mind. I’m happy that you found someone that makes you happy.”
“Are you turning into a romantic sap?” she joked, nudging him.
“Anything but,” he rolled his eyes, pouring more soda and rum into Sydney’s cup. “I have a reputation that I must abide by.”
“Oh right, you have to be scary.”
“Precisely, I don’t spend two hours putting on bad makeup just for the hell of it,” he said indicating to the black kohl and shadow that took over his whole eye area, making him have a raccoon eye effect.
“How avant-garde, my friend,” she said with a laugh. She pulled off the veil she wore, feeling freed from the gauze-like material.
“Have you been thinking about what college you want to go to after next year?
“No…I haven’t. Have you?”
“I was thinking about Berkeley.”
“So you’re not going out of state?”
“No, I like California.”
“Yeah, I haven’t thought about moving either,” Sydney admitted, grabbing hold of a cupcake and biting into the soft, moist cake, licking away at the vanilla frosting on her upper lip.
“We’ve still got a year to decide, either way,” he said surveying the various cupcakes before settling for one that had chocolate frosting and a candied spider placed on top of it.
Their idle chatter was soon disturbed by the sounds of uncontrollable sobbing. They stopped talking trying to understand what it was.
“What’s that sound?” Sydney whispered.
“It seems like someone is crying.”
Standing up, Sydney walked in the direction of the noise, Connor followed right behind her. There were thick bushes and foliage. The sounds came closer, and she noticed someone kneeling on the ground, crouched over in a way that all she could make out was long black hair spread out over her back.
The frail figure wore a black and red striped sweater.
“Hope!” Connor shouted, “What’s wrong?” he quickly rushed to her side. But she didn’t seem to readily notice, too engrossed in her crying fit. Her frame seemed tinier than usual and her profile was gaunt as though she hadn’t eaten for days.
“Did something happen?” Sydney went over to her as well, kneeling down to look at her, although she covered her face with her hands. Tears seemed to seep through the open cracks between her fingers, and fell to the ground, creating little puddles in the dirt.
“I have nowhere to go,” she sobbed.
“What do you mean?”
“Yeah, are you okay? Did you get in a fight with your parents? What happened?” Connor pressed.
“I don’t have any parents.”
“What?” Sydney rubbed Hope’s back. “Then who do you live with?”
“My grandma, but she died,” her voice came out in a strangled cry. “I have nowhere to go.”
“Where do you live?”
She faltered, and was silent.
“Where were you living with your grandmother?”
More silence ensued before she finally spoke.
“Nowhere. We were living in a car. But now that she’s dead, I don’t even have any money.”
Sydney’s heart strings felt pulled to the max, upon hearing Hope’s unfortunate mishap. She couldn’t imagine how crushed Hope was feeling at that moment, alone and penniless. Desperate and destitute with no one to take care of her well-being.
“You can come home with me.”
“What?” Hope stopped crying and looked up at Sydney with a tear streaked face. Her eyes bloodshot from crying and nose bright red.
“I said you can come live with me. You can be my personal tutor, I’ll pay you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t need a personal tutor,” Hope said.
“Yes, I do. Don’t argue with me. Be my personal tutor and I’ll give you a room at my house. My mom won’t mind. Please, I want to help you.”
“It’s a great idea!” Connor exclaimed a little too excitedly. “Hope, you must accept. Come on, you’re bright, you could be of help for the both of us.”
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say yes,” Sydney said with a warm smile. “Come on, let’s get going, I’ll show you your new home.”
“I just hope you don’t mind riding in a hearse,” Connor piped in with a slight laugh, “It’s the only ride I’ve got.”
“It’s not too bad. Just imagine it’s a limo,” Sydney told her, offering her hand to the broken girl so that she would stand up. Hope took her hand, and slowly got up on her feet. The trees held a sinister sway as they walked past them, and Sydney couldn’t help but think about what Connor had said in reference to the park being haunted. She tried not to think about it as they walked back to his car, but the scent of gardenia was suddenly overwhelming. Sydney’s nose twitched from the smell and wondered if the others noticed it too, but didn’t ask. The Hollywood sign loomed over them like a predator of dreams, waiting to crush them with a blink of an eye. You had to be strong to not be trampled by the brutal glam machine. Sydney knew very well how cruel a place like Hollywood could be. Her mother had been a sought after sex symbol in the seventies, and although she was still remembered for her devastatingly good looks, the phone had stopped to ring many years ago in regards to offers. But her mother didn’t seem to mind, although she knew many others, who, like her mother, no longer had the notoriety but didn’t quite take it so good as her.
She thought she saw a figure standing on the letter H of Hollywood, but it couldn’t be so, she thought, the police would be after them if they noticed anyone near the sign. Yet, there she was. A young, petite woman, standing upright on the letter H, looking down at the hills below. She looked as though she was about to jump, and Sydney was going to say something when her forehead smacked straight against a tree.
“Ow!” she shouted, holding unto her head that throbbed with a pulsing pain.
“What’s wrong Syd?”
“Nothing, I walked into a tree.”
“That’s what happens when you do too much daydreaming.”
“I wasn’t daydreaming, Connor. There’s a girl standing on the Hollywood sign who looked like she was going to jump off at any second,” her eyes moved back to the sign but now, saw nothing, “That’s weird, I could’ve sworn someone was just there a second ago.”
“The rum is making you have hallucinations,” he joked, “Come on, let’s get going, and try not to walk into anymore trees. I can’t be held responsible for a concussion.”
Sydney laughed at his remark, although it sounded superficial, as she looked back at the Hollywood sign for a moment, but saw that it was empty of any presence. Perhaps she had been mistaken. She rubbed her eyes, maybe Connor was right. She had too much rum. But the eerie feeling that accompanied her throughout the park didn’t leave her until they began to drive out of the area. The place seemed to linger with a presence that was difficult to pinpoint. But she tried not to think of that as Connor put on a death metal CD, and talked about the wonderful possibilities they now had being novice seniors. Sydney half listened to him ramble on, her thoughts going back to that petite figure on the letter H that teetered between life and death.
* * *
The pharmacy was pretty crowded for being summer, although Sydney reasoned that many people seemed to be suffering of allergies during this time of year. She hated pharmacies because of their medicinal smell and long lines congested with staggering elderly. Nervousness enveloped her stomach as she waited for her turn to come up, she had called in earlier and her prescription should be ready to take out. Something caught her eye. She noticed Lena ahead of her, picking up a prescription.
“Miss, you’re next,” an elderly woman nudged Sydney’s back, and she took her eyes away from Lena.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, walking up to the window to pick up her prescription.
After she gave her surname to the pharmacist, he left for a moment, and returned with a white bag.
“Thank you,” she said handing him over her credit card as she watched Lena walk out of the store.
Once she was done paying, she hurried out of the store, wanting to catch up with Lena. The two of them didn’t talk much, but Jon was fond of her and Sydney’s inane curiosity was making her follow her. She wanted to catch a glimpse of what Jon saw in her. Too concentrated in this thought, she didn’t realize that that Lena had stopped and she crashed right into her. Startled by the sudden collision, Lena fell back. Both of them dropped their white bags.
“Sorry!” Sydney exclaimed getting down on her knees to quickly pick up the bottles that had fallen out of her bag.
“Oh, it’s you,” Lena said, as though she had been expecting someone else and was disappointed.
Then she started to grab the various bottles on the ground, her own bag had spilled its contents, and now the bottles were mixed together.
Lena picked up a bottle, and read it, before handing it over to Sydney, “Um..this isn’t mine,” her tone a little embarrassed.
Sydney wondered which bottle she had taken from the ground, and soon noticed why the girl had flushed at the contents. It was her birth control pills. She tried to simulate a laughter but it came out nervous and not well done.
“I’d be in trouble without those,” she joked.
“I bet,” Lena looked down, grabbing hold of another bottle, then pushing it over to Sydney. It was her mother’s sinus pills.
There were another two bottles on the ground, and Sydney grabbed hold of one, and her eyes widened a little when she read the word, Lithium and saw that it was made out for Lena. What was she doing with antidepressants? Lena’s eyes were on her, and all she could say was, “I think these are yours.”
Lena didn’t say a word as she snatched the bottle from Sydney’s hands so fast and harsh that she scraped her hand with her nail in the process.
“Hey, careful.”
“I’m in a hurry,” Lena snapped, and got to her feet, the black Doc Martens looked worn out from time.
“Okay, I’m sorry for this.”
“It’s okay. I have to go,” she said, and she watched her hurry off towards the bus stop.
“If you need a ride I have my car parked nearby!” she shouted.
“I’ll pass, but thanks for the offer!” Lena hollered back, moving into the afternoon setting sun like a wraith. The black garments she wore made her appear paler, and her blonde hair looked almost white radiating with pink beneath the colors of dusk.
Sydney couldn’t help but wonder why a girl like Lena who seemed to have it all would be taking such potent antidepressants. Did Jon know about this? She watched the petite figure of the girl, cast against the sun, and thought about how nothing ever was as it seemed. They were all leading double lives. The one they lived, and the one they wanted others to believe they lived. Maybe this was the secret to survival.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jon still felt groggy from waking up early. Something had woken him up but he couldn’t pinpoint what it had been. Wide awake, his eyes had traveled over the room to see if anything was out of place. But there wasn’t. After an hour of tossing and turning, he begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed. His muffled footsteps crossed the wooden floor as he made his way into the kitchen. The television was on mute. His mother must’ve left for work already. There was a pot of coffee still half full, which meant his mother must’ve been walking out late and didn’t manage to drink her second cup. He walked over, and poured some into a mug, and grabbed his pack of Marlboro from his book bag on the ground, lighting one up. There was a familiar, almost comforting feeling in the sensation of the smoke crawling in and out of his solar plexus. He was smoking without much thought, taking a sip of coffee that was still lukewarm when something on the television caught his eye. The photo of Madoka Yoshimoto was sprawled all over the screen.
He made a mad dash for the remote, turning the volume up as the newscaster said, “The author had recently been in Los Angeles for a book signing when she was found dead last night in her hotel room in Paris. Cause of death is still unknown, but insiders suggest that complications from years of being ill may have taken a toll on her heart.”