Blood

            It was dark. Little bits of light filtered through some far off window. Evie could see flecks of dust dance through the light, like fairies. She was in her room, her old room. In front of her was the cracked and dusty surface of an old mirror and surrounding her was the feeling of intense unease- so thick it felt like sickness or death, coating everything with its stench. It wasn’t the mirror that brought the unease but what she saw within it. The planes of her face were pale and smooth. There was no pink in her cheeks, no glimmer in her eyes, wide and pale eyes. Pale like her face. Her lips, once full and rosy, cracked and stretched in the grotesque imitation of a smile. Slowly, the figure in the mirror, herself, raised its hand. It waved. The fingers of her left hand curled slightly in the reflection, flicking slowly back and forth as it waved. Her real hand remained motionless, heavy with fear and dread. And then it was too much, an unbearable weight. Tears pooled and then dripped, slowly, down her cheeks and into her mouth. The reflection remained as it was, no tears.

“Please,” she said, begging. There was a rip somewhere deep within her and the reflections lips stretched farther, smiling wider, if possible. It’s lips moved and no words could be heard. But then they stretched across the mirror, slowly, etching themselves into the thick metallic glass. A single word: “Goodbye.”

            Evie jerked awake. She was gasping for breath and her long red hair was slicked against her face and neck with sweat and what appeared to be tears. She was crying?! Disgusted with herself, she jerked back the covers and rushed to the motel’s crappy bathroom. She closed the door quietly and lay down on the cold tiled floor, willing herself to breathe. In. And out. In. And out. Just breathe. Slowly, she felt her body cool; her heartbeat slowed to a normal rhythm and the calm façade she wore on the outside returned, like a thick protective blanket. When Evie was little, she carried a wool blue blanket everywhere with her. When asked why, she said it was her bullet proof blanky and no one could hurt her when it was with her. Her emotionless exterior was like the grown up version of her bullet proof blanky.

            Evie picked herself up off the floor and climbed into the shower. Despite the hour of the day, Evie needed to go out and do something.

            Once she had finished her shower, she went back into her room, a towel wrapped around her body. She picked out some clothes from her suitcase. She never would have thought she’d be living out of a suitcase. Despite that, here she was…

            “Sweetie?” Her mother called through the door, “May I come in?”

            “Just a minute!” Evie called back. She changed quickly and then let her mother in.

            “Oh, Evelyn, this room is just a mess!” Her mother exclaimed, picking up the used towel and hanging it in the bathroom. She then proceeded to straighten out the covers on Evie’s bed and fluff the pillows. Evie ignored her and instead rushed around the room, collecting the few belongings she still carried with her everywhere.  She grabbed her wallet, a phone, a small notepad and the room key. Then she shoved them all in various places on her body- the phone went into a pocket, the wallet got shoved into her waistband, the key and notepad went into her socks. Finally Evie made a straight shot to the door.

            “Where are you going, honey?” her mom asked.

            “To get some coffee,” Evie said, shifting from leg to leg restlessly.

            “Oh…” her mom seemed disappointed. “How long will you be gone?”

            “I dunno. When do I have to be back here?” Evie asked, glancing to the door.

            “Oh…whenever, I suppose. Just be home before dark, please,” Evie’s mom said.

            “This place isn’t home,” Evie quipped. Evie’s mom’s face crumpled and she instantly felt bad. However, she ignored the feeling and left.

            Outside everything was coated in a thick fog. The fog tasted sweet on her tongue, like the butter cream frosting her grandma always made for birthdays and special occasions. She hung a left and made her way down Poplar to the small twenty four hour café. She was met by a small congregation and loud little bursts of conversation. Not long after she had been standing there, freezing her butt off and becoming progressively more frustrated, a young man walked up to her. He was a little older than her.

            “Excuse me,” he said. “Are you waiting for the shop to open?”

Evie rolled her eyes internally. What a nimrod- why else would she be standing outside the café at 6AM on a freezing cold day?

            “That’s why I’m here, obviously.” Evie quipped. “I shouldn’t even be waiting- it’s a 24-hour shop. Why is it closed?”

            “I was about to ask you the same thing,” he said. “Sorry to bother you…?” He let his sentence hang, waiting for her to respond with a name. Evie squinted at him, then she said,

            “Evie.”

            “Sorry to bother you, Evie,” the boy said. Then he turned and walked away. Evie’s mood was no better now- it was, in fact, a little bit worse. Groaning in frustration, she turned and left the coffee shop. She walked up and down Poplar, kicking little bits of gravel and scuffing her chucks on the rough road. She took a right onto some street she hadn’t yet explored and made her way to an old wood shack. It seemed abandoned except for a little stack of dirty clothes on the inside. Evie sat, leaning against the shack and thinking. She missed home. She missed her house. She missed the times when her dad wasn’t an asshole or an alcoholic. She was so done. So, so, so done.

            “Goddamnit,” she muttered, clutching at her hair. “How the fuck did we get here? What the hell am I supposed to do? God-fucking-dammit!” She stood and kicked the side of the shed with all the force she could muster.

            “Agh! Shiiiit!” She moaned, clutching her freshly angered toe. Just then her foot vibrated. It was the phone in her sock, she realized. It was ringing. She pulled it out and looked at the caller I.D. It said: Vanessa Jakyl.

            “What, mom?” she said, flipping open the phone.

            “Sweetie, there’s been a p-p-problem,” her mom said, racking in a long scratchy sigh.

            “What is it? Is it dad?”

            “You need to come h-h-home. We have to go to the h-h-hospital.” The line went dead. Evie’s head was spinning like a carnival ride and her heart was pounding. She hurried back to the motel room, rushing into her parents’s room. Rick, her father, lay on the floor, pale and unmoving. A dark stain was spreading across the off-white carpet of the motel room. The whole area stank like dirt and copper- Evie raised a hand to her mouth and retched.

            “Oh, Evelyn!” her mother flew at her, embracing her tightly.

            “Mom, get OFF,” Evie pushed her away. She fell to the floor beside her father. He turned his head to her. His pale eyes, exactly like her own, were half closed and lost looking.

            “Evie,” he said. “My sweet girl. There are some things that…some things that your mother and I need to tell you.” Evie’s mom stood behind them, hovering.

            “Mom, he’s delusional. Call 911,” Evie said, not looking up.

            “NO!” Her father grabbed her wrist desperately. “No.”

            “Dad, you will die. Okay? You will DIE. We need to get you to the hospital.”

            “No, Evie. They can never know. After I go…after I go, you and your mother need to get rid of any evidence of who I am. Okay? Destroy all evidence of who I am and then move to the apartments next door. That is where you will learn what you need to know,” his whole being was steady, even as near as he was to death.

            “Daddy…” Tears dripped onto her hands which were clasped in her lap. Blood stained her jeans dark red, almost black.

            “Your mother will explain…everything.”

            “No. Rick, this has gone too far. You can’t let them win. I won’t let you,” Evie’s mother whipped out a phone and dialed 911. “Yes, I need help immediately. My husband has been shot and he is bleeding profusely.”

            Evie held her father’s hand. Nothing could be the same after this…her mother’s words swirled around inside her brain, on repeat: you can’t let them win. You can’t let them win. You…can’t…let them…win…

            The question was…who was “they?”

Waiting

                Evie shifted onto her left leg, hitching the whiskey and vodka bottles further into her arms. A faint clinking could be heard when the necks of the bottles kissed. Evie was the last in line and the line was long- no matter, though. She wasn’t in any hurry to get back to the shitty motel her and her parents were staying in. Standing in line in the stifling heat of this cramped and tiny grocery store, Evie remembered the night they had reached this place. After driving for hours, Evie’s mom had pulled the car up in front of a rundown motel. The paint was chipped in most places and stained ever where else. The sign was a massive neon purple thing that blinked the words “Motel 6.” Once Evie had summoned the energy to remove herself from the car, the heat hit her like a bowling ball. The whole situation was made worse when she had to half carry, half drag, her father up the stairs to their room- room number 32. I don’t know if you’ve ever had to haul a man about three times your size up many stairs but Evie can attest to its unpleasant nature.

                The cash register dinged, bringing Evie bag to the here and now. Oh joy, she thought dismally. It was almost her turn now. She carefully placed her father’s requested alcohol upon the check-out belt. It buzzed forward and the man behind the register gave her the once over before leering at her. He didn’t even ask for ID, just placed her items in the bag and slipped her a phone number. As soon as she was outside she ripped up the phone number and shivered. Sometimes she hated her father so much for putting the family through this- for making his 16 year old daughter go buy him alcohol. She knew if she didn’t do as he said though, he’d get violent. So she listened. And life went on- it always did…well. Sort of. It would not go on so well if she were dead, Evie decided. However, it was partly her fault things were so difficult at home. Well...not her decided fault. But she knew that who she really was- what she really was –terrified and disgusted her parents. Hence, her father is an alcoholic and her mother is a neurotic.

                Evie began the dreaded walk back home. Home was a relative term, she decided. She didn’t have a home. The house they had lived in was not home, her parents were not a home to her and the shit hole they were living in now certainly was not home. Still, she walked. The heat beat down on her bare shoulders and the bottles clinked together every time they bumped her hip or slid down her shoulder. She walked for what felt like a long time- it wasn’t long enough. Her feet thumped down on the cracked sidewalk with loud slapping noises. She passed a pet shop, a few restaurants, a strip joint, a church. As she was passing the orphanage, a kid pressed his little face against the grubby window and stuck his tongue out, pulling at his cheeks and rolling his eyes in a horrid display. She took a second to return the favor before continuing on her way. As she was passing the Castle Apartments, a bum turned and yelled,

“What will come, will come!”

Evie jumped slightly and ran the rest of the way back to the motel. As she was reaching up to open the door to her room, a loud crash came from within. Then there was crying and silence. How right that bum was, Evie thought. She had no way of knowing what awaited her behind this door, all she knew was that it waited. And soon it would stop waiting. 

THE MOVE

Today started with boxes. Lots of boxes, big ones meant for hauling around heavy loads. They were all shapes and sizes, taped up and ready to go- one neat clear line straight across the top of every box and that was it. A stranger would never be able to tell from the outside that all of Evie’s most prized possessions were neatly packed away in those boxes. No, a stranger would never know that Evie’s life lay nestled in those simple brown blocks of cardboard, flimsy and meaningless to the naked eye.

Evie grabbed a box- the last one –and followed her mother outside with it. She crammed it into the back of their new Honda Civic among around twenty other boxes. Then she squeezed into the back seat, trying to ignore the sharp bit of cardboard that was stabbing her in the hip. She pressed her face to the window. It was cool- autumn had just started. Days before the school year and Evie was packing up and moving away. All because of Rick.

Rick stumbled towards the car, lurching into his seat and then slumping against the door. He brought with him the sickly sweet stench of hard liquor and sweat.

“Lessgo ‘Nessa! DRIVE!” He exclaimed suddenly, flailing his arms about as if he might smack Evie’s mother. Vanessa lurched away from him.

“Now Rick, be patient…” She said. Her voice was stretched thin with the attempt she was making at trying to sound calm. No one was fooled, least of all Rick. The general impression was that of trying to squeeze a morbidly obese man into a corset- absurd and unlikely. Rick lurched towards Vanessa, violently latching onto her hair. Vanessa gasped in surprise and pain, leaning back so that he wouldn’t rip out any hairs.

“I said, DRIVE!” He yelled. His eyes were sunken and dull, pieces of spittle clung to the left corner of his thin chapped lips. It was as if Rick no longer recognized his own wife, let alone his child that sat huddled in a corner in the back, face pressed against the glass.

Out of nowhere, Rick pulled Vanessa’s face to his. She tensed, waiting for a blow, and then relaxed slightly as his lips crashed down on hers. A tear slid down her cheek but she wiped it away with the back of a long bony hand.

“I’m so sorry my darling…I love you so, so much,” Rick whispered.

“I love you too,” The voice of Evie’s mother shook. Evie pressed her eyes shut tight for moment. Then she looked back at their house. It loomed over them, soon to become nothing but a memory of things both strange and familiar. Vanessa put the car in reverse and smoothly backed out of the driveway, making a perfect turn onto the street. The house waved goodbye. Evie only hoped their new life would be different- better. It had to be. It couldn’t get much worse, she decided.