What's One More Thing

There are so many voices. They fuzz together, but I can hear one a little more than the others. It asks me if I’m okay and checks up on me. I’ve never heard such a caring voice speak in my direction. It feels like laying in the sun. All I can see are flashes of events. Floating away from blobs. There are monsters all around me, and I can feel I’m not safe. Then I am safe. I’m not sure if my dad is saving me, or if the cat is. Either way I think I’m safe. I feel like I should cry when I wake up, though. I’m not sure if I should cry because of what I’ve lost, or what I almost lost. Everything starts to go away again, but I’m pulled out again. His hand and the way his fingers rub my hand. It’s like a tether to my body. They held me in the backseat, not letting me float away to the lights. I held on to that feeling through all my dreams and nightmares.

The smallest sliver of light shines on the floor but is smothered everywhere else. I slide my hand across my body and notice the soft blanket over me. I stop moving and run my hand back and forth on the soft blanket. Where am I? I finally ask myself. My brain feels like it fell asleep under a cloud of fog that has a marching band inside of it. My head pounds while also being numb. I look to my right and see my phone plugged into the wall. I don’t touch it, though. I’m afraid to look at it let alone touch it. I look to my other side and see a bookshelf.

My clothes are different as well. I’m wearing a soft long-sleeved shirt and baggy pajama pants. My underwear and bra are also gone, but I feel that I have something on. I rub my feet across the soft blanket laying underneath of me. Soft beds are lovely. I finally sit up and my head immediately swells. I place my feet on the floor, and there’s a shaggy carpet under them. My feet are bare, and I can see a few scratches on them.

There’s a knock on the door, “Mona?” Oliver’s voice softly echoes in. I grab the soft blanket that was on top of me and slowly make my way to the door. He stands back when I open it. The sun shines through a few windows behind him and I flinch away from the sudden brightness. “Oh, I didn’t expect you to be up yet.” He holds a tray of food.

“What are you doing?”

“I made you a little food. I was just going to set it on the table in there.” I glance behind me and see the table in question.

“No need, I can come out there and eat.”

“Are you sure? If you’re not feeling good, it would be better for you to stay in bed.” I shoo him forward. He hesitantly walks back down the hallway, glancing back at me every few steps. We walk through a comfy looking living room and then into a kitchen. He sets the tray of food down on the small table in there. I sit in front of the food as he goes into the fridge. There’s an English muffin on the tray with a little scoop of jelly on the side. There is also some bacon and scrambled eggs. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure,” I start to spread the jelly on the English muffin. My stomach feels like an ocean, so I take my time spreading the jelly.

“Anything in particular?”

“Small glass of chocolate milk if you have it.” I hear him set a glass down and the glug of milk being poured. He sets the glass in front of me and sits himself. “I’m allergic to gluten you know.” I lift the English muffin to my mouth to take a bite. He jumps up and grabs my hand. I snort in his face, and he lets go. I have to set the muffin down from laughing too hard.

“That’s not funny. I thought I was going to have to make you all new food.”

“Why would you make me new food?” I take a small bite of the bread.

“The bread touched the rest of the food on your plate. It would have been cross-contaminated. I thought I had poisoned you.” He runs his hand through his hair and leans back.

“Sorry to freak you out.” I smile because we both know I’m not sorry. I pull the blanket back up around my shoulders. Oliver’s black shirt is all wrinkled and his hair is sticking up in every way it can. There’s a little purple crescent moon around the side of his eye that wasn’t there yesterday. “You look like you had a rough sleep.”

“I’m not used to sleeping on the couch. I also didn’t sleep very much.”

“Why not and why’d you sleep on the couch?”

“Well, you slept in my room, so I slept in the living room, and I didn’t sleep too much cause I was worried. So, I stayed up most of the night, so I could check on you every so often. I don’t really know how any of that stuff works and I was afraid you’d choke or something.” Right, last night. I try to pick out details, but all I can access is a fuzzy line of events.

“What happened?” I ask without looking at him.

“I’m not really sure. What do you remember?”

“I don’t know it’s not all very sensible. I remember us getting some air, and then I started feeling kind of weird after a while. I thought it was the alcohol hitting me, but then stuff started moving. Like, everything was flowing and was becoming one. I couldn’t tell you were wearing a costume; it was just you as a cat.”

“Is that why you were calling me kitty?”

“Yeah, you were wearing cat ears. I just thought you were a cat person. Then somebody grabbed me. I couldn’t make out his face, but he was tall and looked like a monster. I remember a little here and there. I remember the dark room. I was freaked out by the darkness and there were a bunch of guys in there. Phil’s guys. I started not feeling good, and my legs were going all numb. I started asking for Charlie, and he was there.” I rub my head trying to make sense of the gibberish in my memories.

“Hey, you don’t have to talk about it if you want.”

“A lot of it just doesn’t make much sense to me when I’m trying to piece together the story.”

“I can tell you what I saw and maybe that’ll help it make sense.” I nod and take a bite of the eggs. “Okay, well the monster you talked about. I think that was Charlie because he came over and got you. You weren’t that excited to go with him either. I was going to go home, but you seemed stressed and out of it. I got to the door and saw you guys going up stairs. I decided to stay and wait. You got up, like, one step and then tried to sit down. Your boyfriend was pulling on you and getting annoyed. You finally got back up but were still struggling, so he picked you up and carried you upstairs. I thought it was a little weird, but I didn’t think there was too much to worry about. Then he came back downstairs alone. A girl wearing a pink dress approached him, and they left.”

“A pink dress?” He nods. Lil from last night pops into my mind. “Was she wearing knee high socks?”

“Yeah, I think so and those garter things too.” I clench my jaw as fire creeps up my face. “When I saw him, leave, I knew something was wrong. Even if it wasn’t, I knew it wasn’t safe for you to be alone in a bedroom on something. So, I went upstairs. I was looking in each room, but that house is a lot bigger than it looks. Then I heard you scream somewhere at the end of the hallway. I ran down there and started looking in rooms, but I couldn’t figure out which one it was. All the lights were off. Then you screamed again. There was a guy by the door and a few standing over by you. I saw you down on the floor with that one guy on top of you. It looked like you had already taken one of the bigger guys down. There was a lot of blood around. You seemed out of it, so I tried to go over to you. One of the guy’s sucker punched me. You had reached over to me as that guy got off you.

“I got rid of him and a couple more, but most of them ran off. I picked you up and when I tried to leave you tried to fight me. You have a pretty strong grip.” He smiles but it’s forced. “I think you recognized me, though. As a person or a cat, I’m not sure, I guess. I got you outside, and you couldn’t stand very well. So, I helped you lay down in the backseat. You were mostly talking nonsense. I brought you here. You got sick, but my dad’s girlfriend said you’d be okay. She’s also the one who changed you into my clothes. She’s a nurse.” I look down.

“Weird, I didn’t wonder who changed my clothes.” I mumble to myself. He smirks a little and leans forward. “Did you put a light by the bed?”

“Yeah, I had turned on a little night light thing. It was really hard getting you out of the bathroom. You’d gotten sick and then laid down and when I tried to take you out, you’d just start to cry. You kept saying that your dad was coming and if you went into the dark, he’d have to leave. So, I got a little light to convince you to get into bed.” I chuckle, embarrassed.

“I said that?”

“Yeah, actually any time there was a light you’d start talking about him. When we were driving home, you were whispering dad every time you saw a streetlamp.”

“Jesus christ.” I look away too embarrassed to look at him. “Did you hold my hand?”

“Huh?” He looks up as his face turns beat red.

“Well, when I was in the car, I thought I had grown more fingers. One of them was rubbing my hand. That was you, right?”

“Yeah, but you just seemed…”

“I’m not mad.” I interrupt. “I found it pretty comforting actually. I was just trying to decipher what I was seeing.” We sit quietly and eat.

“Is your dad alive?”

“What?” I glance up surprised.

“Well, when you first started acting weird, you were talking about somebody. You said it was your birthday, and normally you go to the cemetery. Then after I had given you the time, you talked about how it was like you were, like, connected with him and stuff.”

“Oh,” I don’t exactly remember all of that. I mean, I remember thinking about how it was the right time and how I should be at the cemetery. “Uh, he’s not alive.” I finally answer. “What was the time you told me?”

“11:20,” I laugh in disbelief.

“Can’t get any more cosmic than that.” I chuckle. “My dad died at 11:20 which was the same time that I was born.”

“He died on your birthday, which was yesterday?”

“Yeah, he died at the exact time I was born.” I grab my elbow and wrap the blanket around me again, suddenly feeling vulnerable. There’s a slam of a door and someone walks toward the kitchen. A medium sized man with grey hair and a short grey beard walks in.

“Howdy there.”

“Uh, hello. Sorry, for being here.” I blurt out. Stop being fucking awkward. He looks at me for a bit than lets out a deep laugh.

“Don’t worry hun. Happy we could help. We’re pretty lucky I’m dating a nurse.” He calls out as he goes into the kitchen. He sits down with a glass of something. “Are you feeling, okay?” He references to me.

“Oh, uh yeah, I’m fine. A little fuzzy.” I awkwardly smile. He nods and turns to Oliver.

“And how’s your face?”

“Cuter than ever.” He says naturally. His dad shrugs and takes food off Oliver’s plate.

“So, what’s your name? How do you and Oliver know each other?”

“Oh, I’m Mona, and we work at the gas station together.”

“Work friends, fun! What school do you go to then Mona?”

“I go to Hendel.”

“That’s a good school. Do you like it there?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty okay. Not a lot of middle-class students there, though.”

“Oh, another middle classer. Are you there on a scholarship?”

“No, my grandma is one of the founders, so she pays for me to go there.”

“Well, lucky you.” He says with a genuine smile. “Well, I’m obviously Oliver’s dad, and you can call me Derek. If you ever need anything, just let us know.” He takes a sip from his glass and leaves.

“Okay, well, I should probably go back to my house or something.”

“Okay, um, just let me go get your clothes. I washed them.”

“Actually, do you mind if I borrow some of yours?” He looks confused for a second then the look goes away.

“Yeah of course. I’ll just put yours in a bag. I’ll show you where my clothes are.” We walk to his bedroom, and he flips on the light. His room is a light blue. He has a desk with a laptop and a bulletin board. He has some photos of him and his dad, but none with a mother. There’s a poster of a band by his bed and a dresser by the closet. The rug by his bed looks like one of the characters from Monsters Inc. “I have sweatpants in this drawer, and you can have any tops in the closet here.” He slides open the door of the closet.

“Thank you, and I promise I’ll bring them back.”

“No problem. There are socks in this smaller drawer.” He walks out, and I sit down on the bed. This is so awkward. He saw me almost get raped and now I’m borrowing his clothes. I don’t even know him that well. I place my face in my hands and lay back on the bed.

What am I going to do? Charlie left me in that room. I know that at least. I don’t know if he knew what the others were planning. Hell, maybe he planned it himself. He left me, though. Then left with someone else. I guess I meant so little to him that it took the walk downstairs to get over me. “Ha.” I cover my face with my hands and try to keep the tears in. I can’t believe I thought he was trying to surprise me for my birthday. How blind can I be? My throat stings from trying to keep myself from crying.

I quickly get up and put on some of Oliver’s clothes. I avert my eyes from the mirror by the closet when I see the bruises all over my legs. I grab my phone and shove into the pocket of his sweatshirt but leave it off. I doubt there’s anything on it, but I’m still too scared to open it. Oliver walks into the hallway as I open the door. “Hey, here’s your clothes.” He hands me a bag. “I put your shoes by the door. You had taken them off in the car and tried to throw them out the window.” I nod not trusting myself to open my mouth yet. He walks me over to the front door and I slide my shoes on.

I get a glance out the front window and recognize the street. “You live in the slums?” I asked shocked.

“Yeah, where’d you think I lived?”

“I don’t know. With the middle-class guys, I guess. I didn’t think you lived in the ghetto too.”

“Yeah, my dad used to work with some of the gangs before I was born so we were given this house. When I was born, he got out and was able to keep the house.”

“Wow, good for him.” I stand awkwardly for a second. “Okay, I’m gonna fuck off.” I open the door but stop short of leaving. “Thank you for helping me.” I don’t face him; I don’t think I could. “You didn’t gain anything from getting yourself involved with me, but I appreciate that you did. Thank you for stopping them.” I finally whisper and quickly leave after. I walk away from their house at the fastest pace I can go without running.

I don’t know where to go from here exactly. I notice the car following me, but try not to direct any attention to them. I continue walking till I reach George’s parents. The door is unlocked when I get there. I try to shut the door as quietly as I can. “Mona! Is that you?” His dad calls from in the house.

“Yeah, it’s me.” I call back and slowly walk in. I reach the doorway to the living room. They both sit together but are doing separate things.

“Hey, we were wondering why you didn’t come home last night. We stayed up later waiting for you. Just let us know next time you don’t plan to come back. Okay?” Before I know what’s happening my face is wet and I can hardly see them.

“I’m sorry. I’ll tell you next time.” I quickly run upstairs. My cheeks burn from embarrassment while my eyes continue to pour. I crawl under the blankets, tucking the sides under my body. I hold a pillow over my face to muffle the cries as it comes out. I try to stop it, but my body doesn’t let me stop. I’m hardly in control of myself, and all I can do is wait. When I get too tired to keep going, I lay there numb. I finally slide my phone out of my pocket and turn it on. There are a few texts from Charlie, but I ignore them. I see a text from Oliver telling me to wait for him after school tomorrow. I crave companionship or somebody to make me feel better, I guess. I spot George’s name lower in my recent contacts. I tap his picture and look at our last conversation.

“What am I doing wrong George? I don’t know what I’m doing.” I delete the text and instead send him a what’s up. Not having anybody to talk to when you’re struggling is the hardest part of struggling sometimes.