by Ian Withrow
Erin was stumbling over her words and mumbling through a mouthful of sleeve as she tried to lick the freshly spilled tequila off her arm before it hit the bed.
The shots were going down a lot easier, for both of them, and Lauren's mind was delightfully clouded. All thoughts erased except the here and the now.
She really was enjoying herself.
“Ok f-fine, pour it up sishter,” Lauren's words were slurring noticeably and both women erupted in laughter again.
Salt, tequila, and a little bit of lime later and Lauren was shaking her head to clear it of tequila fumes. Erin swore, she seemed to be caught in her shirt as she tried to remove it.
“Hold still,” Lauren admonished her.
Erin obeyed, one arm out of her sleeve, the dark shirt was pulled up and covering her face and left arm. Her stomach and ample chest were left exposed but for a deep purple, lace-covered bra. It was lingerie really, and nothing Lauren had seen before. The scars across her body, almost the same purple, carried Lauren's attention across her sweeping, graceful curves.
“C-come here you drunk,” Lauren stuttered, distracted by the sudden heat she felt.
Lauren tentatively reached out and helped her friend get herself unstuck, handing her the shirt after she did so. Erin tossed it over her shoulder and it landed on the floor behind her. Sighing drunkenly, Erin fanned her flushed cheeks.
“Thanks,” Erin's tone was lower, different in some way that Lauren couldn't quite nail down. In her intoxicated state it felts velvety and warm.
Erin reached up to brush a loose lock of crimson hair out of her face, the motion drew Lauren's eyes down to her elegant neckline, and lower. The lingerie she wore teased Lauren with tasteful coyness.
She was staring.
Lauren snapped her eyes back up to Erin's face, incredibly conscious of her actions. Her cheeks blazed and the room felt hot. She looked to the television. She was hoping to find something to distract herself from her own embarrassment, but the women on screen were even more intimate than before. Her eyes immediately darted back from the screen to her friend's face. She was terrified but excited. Her whole body craved what the two women on screen had, but she forced herself to remember it was beyond her grasp. Her mind insisted she see Erin's facial expression to read her mood.
Whatever she expected, she didn't find it.
Erin was looking at Lauren with a curious expression, she was leaning slightly forward and her cheeks were flushed a deep scarlet that almost matched her hair.
Their eyes locked for several quiet moments, the only noises were the sounds of passion from the film, underscoring the tension in the room.
Both girls opened their mouths to speak at the same time, their jumbled words yielding two sheepish grins and another pause.
“G-go ahead,” Lauren's voice was barely above a whisper, her posture mirroring Erin's. Her heart was beating out of her chest and she gripped the bedspread beneath her tightly, hoping Erin didn't notice.
“I was, um, just going to ask you if,” Erin paused, took a deep breath and continued. “If we were still playing our game...”
“Game,” Lauren said questioningly, her mind raced, what game?
Erin nodded, she put her hands on the bed, leaning even closer to her friend. A few strands of hair fell across her face again, adding a messy grace to her looks that Lauren found incredibly distracting.
“The one where we um, take a shot whenever something... unexpected happens,” Erin's voice was melted chocolate, sweet and rich.
“Oh,” Lauren almost breathed the word, her chest was tight and her gaze was locked with Erin's.
Erin crawled closer, her hands on the bed just outside Lauren's lap and her body only a few inches away. Her chest rose and fell with her deep, heavy breathing and Lauren caught the smell of her perfume. It was the same intoxicating combination of midnight rain and roses, at once familiar and exotic.
“So, are you surprised,” Erin looked deeply into her eyes, the question was heavy with meaning.
“By the movie?” Lauren's reply was meek, timid.
Erin shook her head, “No.”
Lauren's breath caught, she couldn't speak so she nodded instead. She felt heat growing in her cheeks, her chest, and elsewhere. Erin's full, cherry-red lips seemed only a heartbeat away from her own, and Lauren caught herself lost in her emerald green eyes.
Erin seemed to hesitate, then she sat up, they were so close that her chest brushed lightly against Lauren's, sending an electric fire through her entire body.
“Give me your hand,” each word dripped honey as Erin spoke, and Lauren timidly reached a single gloved hand out to her.
Erin took her hand, holding it gently in her own. She kissed it softly, right where Lauren's thumb met her index finger. The heat of her lips warmed Lauren through the thin leather of her gloves, she lingered a moment before pulling back.
“To help the salt stick,” again Erin's voice sent a shiver through Lauren, who half-closed her eyes at the unfamiliar sensation.
Sure enough, Erin lightly poured a small portion of salt onto Lauren's hand where it half melted on the glove. Next, she poured a shot from the half empty bottle and put it gently into Lauren's hand, the cool glass standing in stark contrast to the heat pulsing through her.
“Ready?”
Erin's question was stated with quiet confidence, it swept Lauren's mind clear of everything outside that moment.
“Erin wait, I need to, um” Lauren's mind was clouded, she was drunk on Erin's presence as much as the tequila, she couldn't seem to put words together or decide what she needed to say.
Obediently, Erin waited a moment. She reached behind herself, but Lauren didn't see because she was so enthralled by her closeness.
“I-I,” Lauren's mind raced with sudden doubts, a thousand things that could go wrong, but she couldn't get the words out.
“Lauren,” Erin's voice was husky, it melted into Lauren's mind in a way that settled her fears. “Tell me, what, what do you want?”
The question hung heavy in the air, and Lauren had no idea what the answer was. Synapses fired throughout her body, betraying her desire and making it impossible to concentrate.
“I-I don't have a, um, a lime,” Lauren whispered timidly.
Erin nodded, half-smiling in a way that caused Lauren's lips to part as her breath was taken away again.
“Go ahead, I'll get you one.”
Maybe it was Erin's instruction, maybe it was her need for courage, but Lauren did as she was told. Shyly, aware of Erin's steady gaze, she licked the salt from her hand and, closing her eyes for a moment, drank the harsh liquor. She barely noticed it. Opening her eyes she looked for the lime, and saw it.
Erin was holding it between her full, perfect lips. The juicy center was pointed at her, and their lips were only centimeters apart. It was a suggestion. It was an offer. It was insane.
Lauren accepted.
Erin moved forward as Lauren did, their lips pressing firmly together as Lauren bit into the lime wedge. The tartness of the lime in combination with the warm, wet embrace drove Lauren over the moon. After a brief moment of hesitation, Erin reached up, wrapping her arms around Lauren and twisting her fingers into her long blonde hair. They pushed closer together as the kiss deepened, Erin's chest pressing against Lauren's.
Lauren felt weak, her body responded to Erin's advances with a mind of its own. She allowed herself to fall backwards onto the bed and felt a thrill of electricity as Erin followed her forward. Erin's hair gently tickled her face and neck as it fell around them.
Every detail felt raw and clear. The softness of the sheets, the heat between them, the cool droplet of lime juice that made its way down her cheek.
Erin pulled back for a brief second, taking the lime from her mouth before returning to Lauren and kissing her once more.
Erin kissed her way down Lauren's jawline to her neck and across her shoulder, causing her to instinctively reach up and wrap Erin in her arms. Laur
en's fingers traced the deep scars across Erin's back only to feel them disappearing beneath her hands.
Clarity struck Lauren like a lightning bolt. Terrified, she grabbed Erin's shoulders and pushed her roughly away.
“Erin, we can't!”
Erin looked shocked at the panic in Lauren's eyes and voice. Her shock quickly turned to anger and Lauren could see that she was incredibly hurt by the apparent rebuff.
“What, Lauren? I--”
Lauren was hysterical, her eyes wide with shock as she took in the sight of Erin's pristine, flawless skin. The dulling effects of the alcohol were offset by stark terror as Lauren looked at what she had done.
Erin backed away, creating a space where she had been on Lauren's lap a moment ago.
“I don't understand...” her eyes started to swell with tears. She reached timidly to touch Lauren's face but sharply pulled back when Lauren recoiled.
“Don't!” Lauren said, too forcefully. “Don't, you can't, you can't touch me!”
At her words, Erin looked at her hand as though it had done something wrong. Her confusion grew when she saw the blank, featureless skin of her arm. Suddenly panicking herself, she stood.
“No, no, no, no!”
She stared in abject terror at her arms, holding them in front of herself and turning them over and over again. Her scars were gone, all of them. She leapt from the bed, stumbling drunkenly as she left the mattress and ran to her bathroom.
Lauren followed. She sprinted after her friend, hurrying around the corner.
Erin stood before the bathroom mirror, toiletries scattered about the small room. As Lauren watched, she ripped her bra off, clawing desperately at her chest for the scars that Lauren had taken from her. She spun, looking in shock over her shoulders and seeing her back was clear as well.
They locked eyes, a haunting look of betrayal on Erin’s face.
“Why?”
Erin's simple plea wasn't what Lauren expected. She expected how, or what, but not why.
Lauren tried to answer her, but the words were caught in her throat. Erin quickly drew her own conclusions.
“Why, Lauren?”
Erin was screaming.
“Why would you do this to me? You should have told me!”
Erin was sobbing, holding herself close as though suddenly ashamed to be seen.
“You took them away from me,” she leaned forward on the sink, her knees weak. “You took all of my memories, you took my past. I would have given you everything I had, and you took more.”
Erin's pain broke Lauren's heart as well, and she found the will to speak at last.
“Erin, I'm so, so sorry. I didn't-”
“Get out.” Erin's interruption was quieter, very matter of fact.
“But, Erin,” Lauren tried to continue.
“Get. Out.” Erin said with more force. “Get out!”
Lauren flinched as Erin ripped the mirror from the wall, smashing it to the floor. She dodged a hairbrush, and then a bottle of soap as Erin flew into a rage. Finally she was forced to retreat behind the bathroom door, which Erin slammed behind her.
Lauren tried for nearly an hour to get Erin to respond to her, but she would only sob and scream that she never wanted to see her again. Defeated, she stumbled to the front door, pausing only to grab the tequila on her way. She pulled it open and stepped into the ice-cold winds of winter. She made her way to the truck, tripping and skinning her knee badly on the gravel as she did so. She swore, watching blood pour from the scrapes until it slowly stitched itself up again. She took a long pull from the bottle, as much as she could stand before her weak constitution forced her to stop.
Lauren climbed into the truck, swearing drunkenly as she put it in reverse and rumbled backwards into the street.
Her drive was short-lived. She crashed into a telephone pole less than a hundred yards from Erin's house.
When she regained consciousness her vision swam as she tried to clear her head. She didn't know if she had been out for a moment or an hour but the horn was blaring and broken glass littered the cab. A sharp pain in her chest caused Lauren to look down. A long, splintered piece of the pole had pierced her flesh just above her left breast. She absentmindedly wondered if it had pierced her heart, or if the pain she felt was from Erin alone.
Lauren pulled the splinter from her chest, amazed at how deep it had been. Thick red blood welled up from the wound and ran in streams down her chest.
“Just like Erin's,” she wondered aloud, examining her arms and finding dozens of pieces of glass embedded there as well.
As she brushed the glass from her skin, she watched the cuts fade as Erin’s scars had done.
At least she can make more, she thought bitterly. She felt guilty for her thoughts and then suddenly terrified. Lauren slammed into the door, it refused to budge, so she climbed out of the now empty windshield instead, slicing open her palms as she did so.
Lauren half-ran, half-stumbled back to the house, finding the front door unlocked as she had left it. She burst in, screaming Erin's name. The house was quiet, with only the loud, intrusive sounds of the dvd menu playing in the background.
“Erin? Erin!”
Lauren rushed to the bathroom door, jiggling the handle. It was locked. She screamed herself hoarse calling Erin's name and smashed her shoulder into the door again and again, trying to force it open.
But there was no answer.
Chapter Seven:
With a crack and a bang, the frame of the bathroom door finally gave, sending the door flying open forcefully. Lauren fell into the room, jarring her wrist painfully. Her hands slipped on the slick floor as she tried to stand and she stared horrified at the flood of crimson covering the tile. She couldn't see Erin right away, from her vantage point she could only see her pale, lily-white arm hanging over the side of the deep, cast iron bathtub. Her wrist was laid open as far she could see. Unable to stand, she crawled to the edge of the tub and grabbed Erin's hand. It was still warm.
With renewed hope, she braced herself and managed to stand. Her knees immediately weakened, however, when she saw what Erin had done to herself. Thick, wide gashes were carved across her body, everywhere that Lauren could see. Her body was familiar, beautiful, and Lauren knew every cut intimately, every ragged line. Erin had retraced the wounds of her past from memory.
Erin was terribly still, her eyes open and her pallid lips parted slightly, as if she were about to speak.
Gingerly, Lauren reached out to touch her cheek, it was cooler than it should have been. Lauren felt cracks form in her very soul.
She couldn't be gone, she refused to accept it.
She ripped off her gloves and reached out. Gripping Erin's shoulders, she shook her violently. The voice that had been stolen from her by shock and horror returned with a vengeance. She screamed at her friend to wake up, to say something, anything.
Erin's body was limp, her head rolling like a doll and her arms dangling freely.
Lauren felt every detail of the room burning itself into her heart. the dark, blood-soaked floor, cherry-red against the ivory tiles. Erin's beautiful body, carved by the butcher of her inner demons. The pool of blood she lay in. The unforgettable sadness in her eyes.
Someone must have heard the screaming, because the sound of sirens rose in the distance, but they fell on deaf ears within this private hell.
Lauren stopped shaking her friend, but couldn't let go. She held her close, wrapping her in a fierce hug. Her tears splashed against Erin's face as she poured out her heart, begging for a second chance.
Erin's perfume still clung to her, its sweet aroma burdened by a sickly tinge of death.
She screwed her eyes shut, feeling suddenly sick, and held on tighter.
When the police arrived, they found her still clinging desperately to her fallen friend.
They were speaking, shouting at her, even. They were trying to separate her from Erin, but their voices sounded like the buzzing of distant bees. Lauren was sinking
into darkness and she didn't care if she ever came out.
The harder they pulled, the more desperately she held on. Erin's body was her tether, the thin line that tied her to reality, and they were trying to take it away from her.
Eventually the strong arms of the policemen and EMTs pried her away. It was only then that Lauren realized she was still screaming.
When Lauren was finally pulled from Erin, she felt as though all light was pulled away as well. She fought the men holding her with the ferocity of a tiger, clawing at them, kicking and biting, trying to get back to Erin. But they were too strong. Several times she felt her fingernails dig deeply into flesh, and deep within her mind she registered the sounds of pain she caused. But she was an animal, reacting only to the deep pain within herself.
Eventually she was dragged from the house, the cold air hitting her blood-covered clothing and chilling her to the bone. A young man was shining a flashlight in her eyes and two larger men in dark blue police uniforms were holding her arms behind her back and half dragging half-carrying her down across the yard towards a wailing ambulance. The flashing lights and piercing sirens were disorienting against the darkness of the night, and Lauren's stomach turned.
With little warning she emptied the contents of her gut, it reeked of tequila. The two officers dropped her, jumping back to avoid being splashed.
“She's probably got alcohol poisoning, get her to the ambulance,” the voice of the young man, it was distant sounding and her vision swam and flickered in and out of blackness as he spoke.
Retching again, Lauren landed on all fours. The officers seemed unwilling to take hold of her now that she was making such a mess.
Another medic joined the first and they lifted her to her feet, with an arm over each of their shoulders they made their way to the ambulance, seating her on the back of it.
“Can you tell me your name?”
The concern in the man's voice was clear, and he stared intently into her eyes.
She couldn't seem to keep focus on anything, nothing kept her gaze for longer than a moment.
She threw up again.