It Went on Too Long

The ceiling is white with a popcorn texture. While I lay there and dream the ceiling watches me. It speaks out to me, saying, you watch me so now I watch you. I turn down the hallway but turn too fast and lose my footing. I slip onto the ground, catching my back from touching the ground with my hands. The popcorn melts and slowly drips down to me. A plip sound is made when it drips on my face. The white paint slides down my cheeks to my neck. My hands slide in the blood on the ground. I try to push myself up, but every push makes me slide. Every push puts me closer to the blood. My throat opens as wide as it can as the paint starts to burn. Letting out a song of pain as the paint keeps dripping. One plip after another, over and over. I need to get up, but I can’t move when I’m stuck in the blood. It grabs on to my wrist and holds me down.

Join us it calls to me. The hands come out and grab my wrists. Don’t leave us, they call as they grab my ankles. I try to kick and scream, but every move makes me sink farther. The bloods hands hold on to me. My back hits the ground, and the paint hardens, but it still burns my skin. It sits on top of me like a cage, while the blood laughs in my face. Don’t ever try to leave us it whispers while I continue to think I can get away. I hate the warmth. My knees’ jerk around, and my head tries to break free. The paint still burning my skin and pulling out a song from my throat. “You’ll never be happy.” She whispers in my ear. The softest voice I’ve heard.

The bedroom is empty; except the blood and me. My legs have given up from fear. I crawl. I don’t know what I’m crawling from, but I know I can’t stop. Keep going. You can make it if you keep crawling. The blood makes me slide forward, but there’s too much. My hands are full of it. Then my legs are full of it. Get away; faster. It’s up to my throat. Swim; swim damnit. My neck struggles to keep my head above. In the end the struggle is too much, and I sink. The blood rushes over me. It attacks me as I sink below. He looks down from the top of the waves, and I don’t know how he survived. As he waves me goodbye, I sink down below.

George’s dad stands above me. As I open my eyes, he holds my shoulders. My cheeks are raw and wet. My shaky hands run to wipe the wet blood away, but when they come back down there’s no blood. There are just wet spots of sweat. I slump forward and grab on to my knees. My chest pounds up and down making my ribcage stab into my thighs. “I’m sorry for waking you.” I push out in a soft whisper. My eyes make my knees wet. Ethan’s hand lightly rubs across my shoulders as he sits next to me.

“Are you okay?” He asks once I calm down.

“I think I was just having a nightmare.” I get out through crying hiccups. I feel his spot on the bed go empty, and the door shuts. I keep my head tucked into my knees. I’m not sure how long, but for as long as I can. I finally lay down and flip off the lamp. The white popcorn ceiling sits above me as I stare into the closet. My eyes don’t close for the rest of the night.

When I get up in the morning, I sneak out. Two hours before the house wakes up, I run out the front door. It may make Mary mad, but I can’t look them in the eye. It’s embarrassing that I woke them up because I had a nightmare like a child. My legs ache as I run. I don’t have anything to get out of going to school early. So, I decided to go on a run. I jog lightly to the gas station and leave my stuff in the back. Then I run. It’s tiring but calming. I’d rather be physically exhausted by keeping myself active than sitting around doing nothing. At least I get something from this. My feet and legs ache, but my skin finally cools down. It feels like my legs might give out on me at any moment, but I know they won’t. My stomach growls and does flips. I pump my arms faster and try to quiet my mind. The hardest thing is to stop that little narrating voice that sits in the back of your mind.

I drop into the grass and set my head on my knees. I breath in and out of my mouth struggling to catch my breath. A drop of sweat slides down my face and hits my arm. My head spins when I stand up. I feel my stomach and lungs ganging up together. I grab onto a trash can in the park. After dry heaving a few times, I sit back down. I knew I didn’t need the garbage; there isn’t anything in my stomach to lose. My eyes close as I breath in as much air as I can. The grass is wet with morning dew. It’s cold on my neck when I lay down, but it feels nice. Makes my face feel less white. My hands run up my face to cover my eyes from the sun that’s started trying to come up. A drop of water slides down my face onto my shoulder.

When I finally get up, I only have half an hour till school starts. I jog back to the gas station and grab my stuff. Gabe waves goodbye and I walk to school. I get there with enough time to take a shower. The heat makes my head dizzy and brings on another round of dry heaving. It ends quickly, though, and I get dressed. As I slide on my shoes the bell rings. As I step into the hallway, I feel like a sheep. The bell rings and we all start flocking to our classrooms. I watch as everybody talks or plays on their phone while they walk. Are they engaged, or are they just going? Are any of us awake, or are we all just dragging ourselves through each day? I take my spot with the sheep, go to my classroom, and sit in the seat assigned to me. I let the world go fuzzy while I zone out. I don’t want to listen to the herders, the sheep, or myself.

⇜ ⇝

I hadn’t remembered that Oliver and I had plans till I saw him in front of the school. He saw the surprise on my face and started laughing. “You really forget about me that fast?” I push back the clutter and pull out a smile.

“Sorry, lot going on lately. I’ve been a little forgetful.” I add a chuckle. “Where are we going?” We start walking down the sidewalk.

“Well, nowhere fancy, but there’s this nice little café that I go to study at. Interested?”

“As long as they have deserts and hot chocolate I’m down.”

“Well, I assure you they have those.” We walk mostly in silence. Every so often somebody will cause a scene near us, and we’ll make comments to each other. At one point Oliver complains about the cold out loud. My head starts spinning halfway there, and I get the urge to sit down and rest.

“Are we getting close?”

“Yeah, just around the corner.” As he said the shop is there as we round the corner. The café is hidden under a set of stairs with apartments built on top of it. When we walk in it smells like donuts and pastries. Automatically I love it, because I hate walking into cafés, and they smell like coffee. I know they make coffee, but I want to smell something delicious. We order a pastry each and a drink. We sit down while they make them. “So, how’d it go with your mom?” Oliver asks while pulling off his jacket. I flinch at the word mom but turn my face to hide it.

“Normal.” I lay my jacket in my lap after I sit down. My legs send up a thank you. It feels so nice to sit down. I rest my head in my hand and close my eyes.

“Are you okay?” I break out of my own world and enter the one I’m supposed to be in.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t get much sleep. Just a little tired.”

“You seem to be tired lately. How long have you not been able to sleep?”

“My whole life.” I chuckle and rub my eyes. “I don’t know a few weeks. Good sleep will come back. Just have to give it some time.” The charming barista comes over and sets our snacks down. We thank her and start eating.

“How’s it been at school? Anybody giving you any shit?” The bloody envelope pops into my head.

“It’s been fine. Everybody leaves me alone. Somebody beat the shit out of Charlie, so I don’t think he’ll be fucking with anybody for a while.”

“Somebody beat him up?” He seems almost concerned.

“Yeah, saw him in the hallway the other day. Face was all black and blue. He told me something pretty fucking weird.”

“Oh, what was that?”

“Basically, that I should be cautious about who I have around me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That’s what I was wondering. You know it kind of reminded me of the day after the party. When I left your house, I thought somebody had been following me.”

“Why would somebody be following you?”

“Take your pick; I guess. My ex is a gang boss, so it could be his men or ones against him. My mom is a drug addict and has some outstanding debts. Maybe she used me as her collateral to more than one person.”

“Collateral?”

“Yeah, didn’t I tell you? My mom tried to trade me for drugs a while back. She apparently was using me as credit to get drugs when she didn’t have the money. Not that, that makes sense since she gets free drugs from her land... uh, boyfriend.”

“How could she do that to her daughter?” I laugh and take a sip of my hot chocolate.

“You tell her that and see what she says. She can’t stomach being called my mom. Terry is just a selfish person. Period.” He takes a sip of his coffee and looks like he’s lost in thought.

“Tell me about your mom.”

“Why?”

“Well, you don’t talk about her that much. You’ve said she kicked you out, she’s a drug addict, and that she tried to be your pimp. That’s about all you’ve said about her. Why don’t you guys get along? What was she like when you were a kid? Do you hate her as well?” I feel like I should get annoyed that he’s asking so many questions, but I don’t. I know Oliver is a nice person and just wants to listen. I let out a long sigh and lean back in my chair.

“What to say about her? She’s always hated me it just grew as I got older. When I was a kid, she was an addict, but wasn’t using. My dad made her stop when she got pregnant. They had a deal that as long as we were a family, she had to stay sober. So instead, she cheated on him all the time. She stayed sober, well till he died that is. The day of his funeral she called over her dealer and bought some dope. I think she sees me as what ruined her marriage and life. She also blames my dad’s death on me, so there’s another reason for here to hate me, I guess. She’s always been a bitch and always will be.”

“Why would you think your dad died because of you?”

“I don’t.” I reply sharply. I sigh and try to relax my shoulders. “I know I didn’t. I was eight. That’s just what she sees through her drug eyes. All she can see is what everybody else did to fuck up her life, and not what she did.”

“Were you and your dad close?”

“I guess. I mean, how close can you be after only eight years together? We were cool, though. He’d take me out to do cool shit sometimes. It was mostly to get away from Terry, but he still did it. What about you and your parents? Y’all close?”

“Yeah, my dad and I are pretty close. His girlfriend is nice. My mom was nice too.”

“I figured. You and your dad seemed pretty chill together.” He drinks the last of his coffee.

“Well, should we get some dinner?”

“We’re not eating here?”

“They don’t sell dinner here. Plus, we’ve gotta get a full meal in you. When was the last time you ate?” He starts putting his coat on, and I follow. The dinner is a short walk away. “So, should we talk about what’s going on with you?” He asks once we get seated.

“I don’t know what you mean. There’s nothing going on with me.”

“You’re not sleeping, you’re jumpy, and you seem on edge lately. What’s wrong?” I want to be annoyed, but again I’m not. I’d rather ignore his observations and just make some snarky comment back. After how much he’s helped, though, I would feel guilty. On the other hand, I can’t tell him the truth. Whoever is writing me the notes already threatened to hurt Oliver. He’s already been put in the middle of so much of my bullshit. Getting a hit on him would just top the cake and make me a garbage human. He waits patiently while I silently stare at him contemplating what to do. I could tell him, but the more he knows the more danger he’s in. I could lie, but we just started being friends I don’t think I want to start out by lying.

“It’s just people giving me weird looks at school.”

“Are you going to be honest? If you don’t want to talk about it, just say that. You don’t have to lie to me. Don’t feel like you have to say anything; just tell me not now. We’re friends you don’t owe me anything. I’m going to be honest with you. I saw one of the pictures in your bag. You were just standing in an apartment, but I saw it and I saw there were a few more pictures. I’m assuming you’re not setting up cameras to take pictures of yourself.”

“To be honest. I have no fucking clue. I don’t know what’s going on.” I rub my hands over my face as I feel my head start to pound. “Honesty…well, I think somebody is trying to blackmail me. I’ve been getting notes and pictures in my locker. They have threats of telling people who I really am and pictures of me. The latest one changed their target, though. The first two were saying they’d spread my secrets, but this last one was threatening to hurt me. As well as the people around me. Which is why I wasn’t going to say anything. I figured it was safer keeping you in the dark about it.”

“Do you know who it might be?”

“I don’t know really. It could be anybody from my past that has a problem with me, but I don’t know how they got the photos.”

“Well, you said somebodies been following you, right? They probably took the photos.”

“No, I get those. I’m talking about the ones in the last letter I’d gotten. The first letter had pictures of Leo and I that day at the train tracks. The second one had pictures from when I lived with Leo. There was one when I moved in with him and one after we’d broken up. I’d kept it a secret from most people that I was living with Leo. Then after it ended, and he fucked me up I hid for weeks till the bruises went away. So, I don’t know who could’ve even had those photos of me.”

“Who was around you when you were recovering?”

“George. I was hiding away at his house. He didn’t take any photos of me, though. Then there’s what Charlie said. It’s just been making it hard to function. It’s kind of stressful. All this added with normal life has been a bit much.”

“What does normal life bring?” Oliver listens as I complain about everything. I talk about how Terry blamed my dad’s suicide on me. Then I complained about owing Leo money and the stress of having that above my head. I briefly mention how upsetting it was to see my bruised face. “You said he fucked you up. How bad was it?”

“By the time George got there, I was blacking in and out. I had a couple of broken ribs. I was black and blue fucking everywhere. I had a couple of spots where he’d ripped my hair out. I was kind of fucked up looking. I hid away until I was some what healed. I only started coming out again because I got kicked out of George’s house.”

“Why would they kick you out?”

“I got their son arrested. It was justified.”

“Why’d you get arrested?”

“I was at a bridge and George came to get me. The cops thought we were tagging it. I was all fucked up and they knew my face. So, they didn’t believe us when we said we weren’t causing trouble. Simply bad timing.”

“Life enjoys fucking you over doesn’t it.”

“Yeah, a bit. I’m sure growing up this is what adults expected from me, though. After seeing my parents how could I expect anything less. You seek things that feel familiar. So, you grow up with parents who are toxic and falling apart; then that’s what you look for.”

“That doesn’t have to be true.”

“Yeah, but to be in a good relationship you have to know what good people are like. To me good people are ones that don’t beat my face in. Beyond that I have no standards. How do we know if somebody is shit or if we’re being overly sensitive? Or you live with the mantra, well he doesn’t hit me. So, he has to be okay to date, because he doesn’t cheat or hit me.”

“How about I show you.”

“What do you mean you’ll show me?”

“I mean I’ll show you. I grew up with a lot of good people. I have a pretty good moral compass in my opinion. What if I show you what you should be looking for?”

“How do you know what I’m looking for?”

“I mean I guess I don’t, but I can show you general things. Like things nice people do. I can show you the amount of effort you should be looking for. You underestimate yourself. You’re great and deserve to feel that for once.” I look into his eyes trying to find the joke. His eyes stay serious.

“You’re serious.”

“Yeah, I mean why not? You can find standards and at the same time we can have fun. What’s there to say no to?”

“You’re going to waste all your free time on me.”

“It’s not a waste if I enjoy it.” He grins slightly.

“Okay,” I raise my hands. “I’ll go along with it. You’re making the plans, though. I don’t know about any of this.”

“Trust me, I’ve got it.” We lighten up on dinner conversation while we finish. Afterward, he walks me to the halfway point between our homes. We part with a wave and see you later. I get to George’s with a couple of hours to do homework. When it comes to sleep, my eyes drift closed and stay that way. My mind stays off while I sleep. I sleep so long I’m almost late for work the next day. When I wake up, I feel so much better physically and mentally, but I also feel happier. It feels like I have something to look forward to. I take my time walking to work since the sun is out.