That Night

I slowly blink my eyes open, probably only have slept for thirty minutes or so. Thankfully there weren’t any dreams, though that could be because of the pills which have who-knows-what in them or that I have more alcohol in my system than I thought. Maybe I should try to sleep a bit more, but maybe better I call Lily like Anis suggested….

I sigh and get up, feeling sore form how I was sleeping, and move over to my bag which has my phone in it. I don’t really want to sue my left arm, since, apparently, the shoulder is needed for a lot of movement, so I’ll try and keep that usage to a minimum, which isn’t that easy even though I am right handed. But at least it was only my shoulder….it could have been much worse if…

My phone buzzing in my hand puts an end to my thoughts and, after seeing the name, I answer, “Was just about to call-”

“Finally you answer! Fuck…I saw something that looked like a god damn body being brought out of the apartment! And when you didn’t answer, I thought something happened!,” Lily shouts at me, clearly worried, so I let her rant even though I mostly tune her out.

“Lily,” I say when she seems to have calmed down enough, “I’m fine, really. I just…I’m not gonna be home for a few days, not sure about work. If I don’t come in, jsut say I’m sick, ‘kay?”

Silence. Long silence. “Okay. But…where are you? What happened? I heard some people rumoring that there was gunfire and they assumed it was connected to Derek so none called anything… Did you-”

“Don’t worry, alright? I’m fine, promise.” And with that I hang up, sighing. Ignore the return call. Fuck. Just fuck.

I dig around for my headphones and pug them into my phone. The low music on Anis’s TV is nice, but I need something else right now. Pandora decides on Close to You by the Neon Trees. After slipping the phone into my pocket, I wander to the bathroom, flip on the lights, close the door, look in the mirror. The bandaging around my shoulder and part of my arm seems so…wrong. How did this all happen? Of course I notice the bit of blood on my shirt. At least it is mine, and not…his…

I thought for so long I had killed my mother. But when I foudn that was a lie, though it was my fault yet abstractly, I had felt so relieved… I killed Cam. Maybe in self defense, but I killed him. On purpose. Somehow I’m on the floor, burying my face in my hands. I ignore the feeling of pulling on my wound. I jsut don’t understand why. Sure, his dad was, is, one of the doctors, but he escaped with the rest of us. He escaped with us, got his powers back, all that crap, and… I killed him. Someone who used to be the only thing I could rely on when I was little tried to kill me and… God. Fuck.

Quickly I turn my music off and focus on breathing, not wanting to go and find my inhaler. Feel some heat in me rising some. Focus. I remember coming up from doing laundry, holding the basket. My door was unlocked, and I only thought I forgot to lock it. Set the basket near the door, walk in, and…he was on my bed. Charcoal looking at him distrustfully. I remember him saying he knows for sure the friendship and love we shared was the drugs on my part, when he thought he did such a wonderful job of pretending. I said he was my friend, that that wasn’t fake. He said again he was always pretending, having to get close to me, just to be sure to keep an eye on me. Others were in the hospital for that reason, too. Then he gave me my choices.

Then it’s all mostly a blur, moving too fast, and before I knew it his body was on the floor. And Anis came so fast, almost like I just thought of him and he was there, ready to help. He must have been close to get there that quick… He does always say he wants to protect me. He called a doctor. He is letting Charcoal and I stay with him. He took care of that whole…mess…

I wish I could pay him back somehow, do something for him. I know we used to live together, but I feel like I might be intruding on his personal life. After all, I am only a friend to him… But then why did he come so quickly? Why… Why anything? Nothing he does makes sense. I’m over thinking this. I’m over thinking this because I feel sad and alone and betrayed and Anis is reliable and here and wanting to keep me safe. That’s all. White-Knight-syndrome, most definitely. Sure, his only real argument before was that he wants to protect me, but…he doesn’t want more than friendship; he seems to have a whole harem of women for that..well, part of that. Sometimes I wonder if passed lives are real, and if they are if things were to have gone differently if he and I theoretically met then…but…that doesn’t mean anything to do anyway.

Perhaps that’s how I can repay him; pretend better than I am that friendship is enough. Yea…doubt that’ll go well, but I can try since he’s done all this for me. It’s something I can do, if not much nor really lasting, but I can try. Probably I should call the people I work for, but I don’t know. I need to decide if I want to just…quit…or not. It might be safer if I did quit, but…I don’t’ know.. I’d probably have to live in one of the ghettos, like I did when I was little, but..maybe not… I’ll see what I can do else. I don’t know what to do.

But for now I think sleep would be best. I’m still so tired. Using my good arm, I get up from the bathroom floor, then go back to the main room, leaving my phone and headphones on the floor near the couch. He said to wake him if I had bad dreams or anything, but…I don’t want to disturb him for bad thoughts only. I don’t want to impose more than I have. I’m so unused to someone wanting to take care of me. I should leave. I really bothered him enough today… I look over to where the door is, contemplating, before I sigh and sit down on the couch, taking my owl into my arms. Sleep may be better than being awake at this point.

Still Totally a Coincidence

    It’s one of those days I’m working the very late shift, one of those I really wish I wasn’t. Thumping music, having to wear a bunny ear headband which soon will be a full-blown outfit as I was prewarned, and just simply not the best of moods. And I still want to know why the hell he came to ‘fix’ the coffee machine. Pfft, like he has a new, shiny job that is completely legal. Yea, sure. As far as I’m concerned, he shows the Russian stereotype perfectly…well, one of the stereotypes. The illegal one, that is. 

    I sigh as I work my way back to the bar, setting the tray I had been carrying around down under the counter. The coffee machine is mostly for people who work here, but for the people who come during the day but aren’t day drinkers, it’s a nice addition. But why would he…and how would he even… He makes no sense and frustrates me to no end. As it is, he told me a ‘reason’ why he lied about having a girlfriend, but his reason doesn’t explain why he lied to me about it. I don’t see any reason at all why he would, other than to just be an ass. God, I’m an idiot. For so many reasons. I just…

    “Hey.” A voice breaks through my thoughts and I jerk my head up, expecting an impatient customer, but only see a smiling Cam. “Didn’t know you worked here.”

    I blink. Frown. “I…yea. What are you..no, wait, there’s only so many reasons to be here. Want something to drink?,” I ask, straightening up and shaking off my shock. It’s just like it had been at the club, a complete coincidence. A complete, strange, mildly disturbing coincidence. “And sorry I haven’t gotten in touch with you, been busy and haven’t thought about it.”

    He nods, “Ah, yea, but just one of those coffees. Whatever’s easiest to make. And don’t’ worry about not getting in contact, I understand…and ‘sides, am seeing you now, aren’t I?” He beams at me, leaning on the counter and sitting on one of the stools. The other person working behind the bar with me, glances our way briefly, before slipping out form behind the counter to bring some drinks to some of the people sitting in the pit, as it is so lovingly called by anyone who works here.

    “Yea, I guess, but I still feel bad. I’m glad to see you, really, but…things..in the way…” I reply, working on a ‘simple’ coffee, my mind working as well. I don’t know why, but something is going of fin my head that has me worry. But, what is there to worry about? These sorts of things happen, and I am glad to see him. Sort of. If Anis finds out he came here… But I shouldn’t care what he thinks, afterall, he’s got enough company on his own. And, as he said the other day, I’m a ‘good friend’. I’m really starting t hate the word ‘friend’.

    I place the cup infront of him, smiling a bit. “Here you go.”

    He sips it, after blowing on it, then leans in and whispers, “I want to talk to you. Can you come with me?”

    I frown, studying his eyes closely as I shake my head. See his face fall, but some sort of raw determination there. “Can’t. Still working. You came in at the beginning of my shift, I fear. Cam…why don’t’ we meet tomorrow, eh?” I smile apologetically, though soemthign tells me my old friend is…different… An alarm is ringing in my head and it worries me. Why would he be here? This can’t just… My gaze moves to the star pattern under his eyes, before to his eyes again. But he’s still Cam, how could he not be trustworthy?

    He frowns and stands, coming around the counter to take my arm, rather firmly. “Just outside, that’s all, Ry. Come on, you owe me at least this much after blowing me off. It’l only take a second, I promise.” His tone is forceful, demeaning, and I’m suddenly very aware of the fact I do have my gun on me. Just incase. I don’t like this. But I don’t think I should tell him that yet. But I sure as hell shouldn’t go with him. But now I want Anis to be here for some reason. I also would like Cam to let go and be more…like he used to be…

    “Cam. You’re being an ass,” I reply finally, jerking my arm away and frowning at him. He narrows his eyes, blows out a puff of air, and looks around, seeming to contemplate something, before storming off. Part of me is relieved, but yet another part of me wants to go after him, apologize. I don’t like upsetting people I care about, even if they are giving me bad vibes. Damn it. Nothing can ever be safe, can it? But why Cam be acting like this? Why would…what happened? “Fuck,” I murmur, leaning against the counter, my front facing the coffee machine. “Fuck. Things can only get worse now, huh?” I shake my head to clear it as I hear someone call out an order, and quickly I plaster on a smile and get back to work. I’ll figure out what the hell went on with Cameron later…or maybe I’l text him and try to apologize. I don’t know yet. Maybe my worries were unfounded and I I just got a bit paranoid. I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m sure I just…want him to go away because I want Anis to stay near.

    Nothing can ever be simple. I wish things could be simple.

In the Vents

    I’m dreaming, or well, remembering rather maybe. But at least I’m aware, somewhat, of what’s going on.

    I’m nine and they’ve started having me take injections and where the needle goes, it hurts and itches after the needle is gone. I don’t like it, but they it’ll help me not hurt people. It makes my head feel funny and it’s hard to remember why I hurt people. I write stuff down so I don’t forget it, so I can remember what I did, why I have to take the shots. I don’t like shots. They had me train the first year so I could…control myself better. They said it would make it easier for the medicine to work. Now I’m in a new building with new people, some I already knew from the old building because they were there as long as me. Once a year is over, we move buildings, I think. Maybe just the one year when everyone uses their powers. There’s a boy. He’s my friend. He can make stuff float and I think it’s funny.He also hears really good, but that’s because he had an accident and needed an implant. 

    I haven’t seen him for a while and I’m worried. People don’t jsut get lost. I worry he may have left with his father who works as a doctor. He’s the one who gives me shots. Sometimes I see the man who brought me here. He’s nice to me and my owl and I talk to him when I’m scared. I like to think my father would be like him…if I knew who my dad was.

    I’m sitting at one of the tables in the play room, drawing a beach. I like beaches. They’re nice and warm. My mom took me to one once. I look up as I hear a seat move and smile as I see him. “Cam! Where’ve you been? I got worried!,” I exclaim but blink and point at his face, “What’s that?” We’re not allowed to use our real names, but since Cam is the son of a doctor, he gets his name a lot. He calls me Ryleah when no one’s looking.

    Cam smiles and taps the stars on his cheeks. Cam’s a year older than me, so he is ten. He’s been here just as long, though. “I don’t know, they just said it would help. Got to choose my own shapes, too, neat huh? You’ll probably get some, too. What do you think you’re going to get?” He talks a lot. But I don’t like talking so it helps.

    I blink and look to my picture, thinking, “I dun know,” I reply after some moments, shrugging to him. “Swirls? Does it have to be different from others?”

    Cam shrugs. “Don’t know. Maybe.”

    “Hm…I don’t know. Come on, let’s go look at the people in the other hospital,” I add the last part in a whisper and jump up, grab his hand, and pull him along. People let Cam do what he wants ’cause he’s a doctor’s son. And since I’m with him, they don’t look at me twice.

    We slip through the halls, acting as if going to our rooms, which, we do, but only to his. His has a vent we can fit in. We climb into the vent and carefully, quiet as possible, move along it like we’ve done often enough that we don’t get lost. We just go on and on and on until we reach an air vent we can look through. It looks right into one of the training rooms. There’s an adult in there. He is pale blonde with pale skin, but we can’t see his eyes.Cam whispers, “Dad said they have someone who can do ice stuff. Cool, huh?”

    I nod, excited by the idea that someone could play with ice like I with fire. But…something is wrong… The man doesn’t seem happy, he seems…angry and afraid. No one is in the room with him, but I see the one way mirror they watch us through sometimes. The man looks around anxiously and….suddenly…the floor and walls are frozen. I thought the room seemed a bit wet. He’s shouting. “Come out you cowards! I know what the fuck you’re doing here! Others know, too, and even if you get me, they’re on their way!” My eyes widen at the bad word he uses. Mama used to use it a lot when she was mad and really drunk. No one answers him. He blasts ice at the mirror. He grabs a chair and keeps hitting the mirror, but it doesn’t break. Someone comes in. She is in strange suit and…has… 

    “What’s that?,” I whisper to Cam.

    “A gun,” he whispers in return.

    We both watch in silence.

    The woman says something that has the man respond angrily. “We only want to help,” she says loud enough for us to hear. He swears at her, tells her she’s lying.

    “Oh no, Dad said we shouldn’t… Come on, Ry,” Cam whispers urgently and starts to tug on my arm, but I keep watching. 

    The man doesn’t seem to be about to give up. She tries to grab him, to push him to the chair with straps in the room. Her suit seems to start to freeze, but it doesn’t seem to do what the man wants as he seems more angry. He tries to push her to the chair. A loud bang resounds. I’ve heard that bang before in my neighborhood when I lived with my mom. But I never saw a gun before…and this bang is different. Louder. Different. I’ve seen small guns, but this one is bigger. There’s red water in the room. There’s blood. The man drops. 

    Cam and I scurry through the vents after that. We don’t go in the vents anymore after that.

    

 

 

    I shoot up, taking deep breaths as I look around my room, gripping my covers, my owl. God…I’d forgotten about that. I’d forgotten about… That was what had me start to be more unsure about the place, less trusting. I… I flop back on my bed, looking up to my ceiling. Why couldn’t I have had a normal childhood?