Knock, knock.
I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, momentarily glancing away from the blinking cursor that was just too threatening to deal with at the moment.
I spun around, using my feet to stop the chair from spinning. I glanced at my clock, sitting on the nightstand.
8:14pm, the red letters flashed. Who could possibly be knocking at this time of night? Alex was out and neither of my parents were home.
It happened again. The soft knock, knock. Only this time I realized where it was coming from. Not the front door, like I had originally thought, but instead, my window.
Now, in hindsight, I shouldn't have opened it. I was a teenage girl alone in the house. I was easy prey to any creep. But...I was, also, as curious as I was cautious. So, I let it propel me to my feet and carry me over to my window.
I slowly moved the curtain, and squinted through the little slit in the blinds. I caught a glimpse of blondish-brown hair and purple crystal earrings. Knowing it was a girl, I felt the tiniest bit safer, but still something tugged in my stomach.
I parted the curtains before grabbing the blinds and pushing them up to reveal...my neighbor.
This was particularly odd, for many reasons, but the biggest one was the fact that I had never spoken to her before.
We had lived next to each other for years and we saw each other in passing. There was that one year I went to school online. I used to sit at the dining room table, with a perfect view out the window. I used to always see her come and go, day and night.
Her cat sometimes wanders over into our yard as well, and I've seen her and her family out gardening or playing volleyball or sunbathing.
I had always doubted that she even knew I existed. It wasn't like I went outside much.
All of this, though, still doesn't change the fact that we've never spoken.
I had never even actually seen her up close before, always at least 20 feet away.
Though now, she was merely two away and in the dying rays of the sun I could see the freckles painted so clearly over her skin, as if an artist had designed them himself. I saw the natural streaks of light blonde in her hair that really wasn't brown at all, but actually a dark shade of blonde.
I saw the purple crystal earrings with a white crop top tied right above her navel, along with her jeans that were the lightest shade of blue they probably sold. I saw the tie dye sweatshirt she had tied around her waist and how her hair was fuzzing out of her bun. She had a line of gold bracelets on her left wrist and her phone in the other.
Curious as to what she was doing at my bedroom window(how did she even know it was my window?) in the evening when we had no idea who the other was, I unlocked the window and lifted it, although I did leave the screen.
?Hi,? She spoke. Her voice was probably the softest I'd ever heard. It reminded me of the Dove commercials where they'd pour the chocolate into the fountain and swirl it around. I never had someone's voice remind me of something but this was a night full of firsts and it didn't feel like the most important thing to address at the moment.
?Hello,? I answered, unsure of what to do.
?I'm Katie,? She introduced.
?Lila.?
?Lila,? She repeated, lips twitching upward which might've counted as a small smile, ?That's a nice name.?
?Thanks,? I say, because I don't know what else to.
?I'm your neighbor,? She says as if I didn't know.
?I know,? I say, to let her know I know.
?You wanna do something?? She asks, as if we were bored friends sitting together in a room.
She shrugs as if she hasn't decided yet.
?Okay,? I say. I don't know why. I don't know why I'm doing this.
?Cool.? She says in a tone that almost sounds like she doesn't care.
A few more seconds of silence pass.
?Do you wanna come in?? I ask because it seems polite.
?Sure but only because you need to change.?
I let her in the front door, because it seems like the nice thing to do.
I sit on my bed and watch as she shuffles through my closet. I should probably feel weirded out or like my privacy is being invaded, like I normally would. I should think about how unusual this was, but instead I wasn't.
I wasn't quite sure why, but then again I wasn't quite sure I wasn't dreaming, slumped over onto my keyboard, the keys imprinting on my face and leaving a long trail of l's over and over again on the page.
I'm knocked out of my thoughts when she throws my sister's light green shirt at me, along with one of my pants that actually had pockets, ?Put this on.?
I debt going to the bathroom, but she keeps her back turned as if giving me privacy, so I change as quickly as I can. It's like she has some psychic sense, or maybe she can just hear the rumbling of the fabric, but either way she turns mere seconds after I'm done.
?Ready?? She asks but she's already halfway to the window as if it was a rhetorical question.
I answer anyway. ?Yeah, I'm just gonna go get my shoes.?
I don't say I run, because that would be awkward and unnecessary but I grab the first pair of slip-on tennis that I can find and hightail it back to the room.
I make it back just in time to see her jumping out of the window, like she forgot we had a door. Not wanting to be the odd one out, I climb out of the window as well, closing it once my feet touch the ground.
When I look back she's halfway to the street and I have to jog to catch up to her.
I briefly remembered my list of worries and figured I should have added mode of transportation. However, I blindly follow her and hope she has a car.
????..
She doesn't have a car.
She does, however, have a bike.
I'm not sure that's better.
She heads to it and I think I see a light in a neighbor's house flick off. She climbs on the seat and nods behind her, motioning for me to get on. I do and all of two things flood my mind, that scene from SKAM and if she'll be strong enough to push both of us, because if not, that would be embarrassing. For both parties.
Despite my worries, she pushes off with practice ease and we glide down the driveway. We bike(or she bikes, I stand and try not to think about falling) out of our cul-de-sac. I'm not sure where she's taking me but I don't ask. My thoughts somehow drift to Genera+ion and Greta.
We bike for a while, not really saying anything. About twenty minutes later we arrive at a Shell Gas Station. As she locks up her bike I suddenly get hit with a very important realization I'm broke.
Before I can say or think anything, she grabs the bag of skittles and the honey bun and shoves them down her shirt. I can't do anything but stare in disbelief as she fixes the candy so it doesn't look that suspicious.
When she's done, she nods her head and I once again follow her. We make our way around the building and once I spot the huge sign attached to the front of the building the candy smuggling makes sense.
?Oh, that's why.? I point dumbly to the sign.
She makes a sound that closely resembles a laugh and takes my hand, dragging me inside(although she doesn't have to do much dragging).
She gets tickets for a horror movie I've never heard of and we sit in the back, waiting until the lights dim and loud music or screams to crack open the drinks and candy. Some guy near us ended up telling an employee who came up to us and rudely told us to give them the candy. Katie told them to shove it and we were escorted out.
We exited the theater laughing and I couldn't say I wasn't impressed. ?Come on,? She took my hand again, ?I know a place.?
We took the bike down some back roads and up multiple hills. I was quite impressed at her stamina, although maybe it was all the sugar we drank. We stopped once again at the gas station to grab slushies.
After some time, we lapsed into a comfortable silence.
?Sorry, kinda forgot about it,? She apologized.
?It's alright. It can be a midnight snack,? I said.
She leaned over, ?Hey, I, uh, hate to tell you this but it's midnight.?
?What?? I glanced down at my watch and threw my head back, laughing, ?It is!?
I looked towards her, giving her my attention.
?Sometimes it just gets too much, you know? Like you just wanna escape, forget for a little while.?
I don't know why I said that. I've never said that out loud before.
Eventually, though, it fades and we bid each other goodnight and head for our prospective doors.
The standing clock struck twelve and the boy's eyes were still wide open. He was playing with his watch, putting it on and off, on and off. His bedroom lay in a blanket of the dark, only one thin sliver of light peeking through the curtains. It was fighting a fierce battle against the darkness. The darkness was winning. Although his eyelids felt like lead, he couldn't sleep. Every time he gave in, she appeared. He sat up and immediately fell back down on his cushion. There was a throbbing pain in his side. He was fighting a battle similar to the light. He turned his head and tried to look through the curtains. He loved waking up to the faint but warm light of the morning sun falling on his face through the thin curtains. But now there wasn't any sun. He looked through the crack in the curtains and saw the dark street, a thin layer of mist over the neat lawns. The mist swirled around a girl in a thin dress standing next to the one working streetlight. His heart stopped. Lynn. Without skipping a beat he opened the window and jumped out of it.
The boy fell headfirst to the ground His side throbbed, but he ignored it. As he looked up he saw no lantern, nor a street. There were only thick bushes and tall trees with dark leaves, only the thin layers of mist were similar. He was in a forest. This didn't bother him however, he just wanted Lynn. He ran after the dark figure in the thin dress. She was surprisingly fast. Faster than he remembered. He followed her giggles and calls and became more desperate with every step he took. The pain in his side was unbeatable and the leaves on the ground were trying to swallow his feet. 'Lynn! Lynn, please, don't go!" But she didn't listen, or couldn't hear him. She just kept running, her giggles now becoming fainter and her footsteps less clear. He followed her deeper into the forest, where the leaves were darker and the plants more poisonous. He couldn't give up. She wasn't gone. Although her voice became more of a whisper in the back of his mind, he could still hear her. But this wasn't her. This wasn't the girl that always wore a thin dress, even in winter or the girl that giggled like she always knew something you didn't. He reached an open ground and stumbled. He broke down on the ground. She was gone.
The boy felt a burning inside his chest. And then a grumble came. Massive footsteps sounded at the treeline. Then, without warning, a massive scream came. He didn't know if it came from him or from the thing that made the footsteps, but what he did know is that it wasn't alright. He jumped up and saw a massive monster. Its biceps looked like they were about to pop, it had huge paws with razor-sharp claws. Its face had only one emotion: rage. Its black eyes took him in for a moment and then it opened its mouth to show the seven rows of teeth, like a thousand little soldiers in the beast's mouth. They were both screaming in rage and without any rhyme or reason, he charged at it. He didn't stand any chance, but that didn't matter to him. He was just mad. When the boy reached the beast he tried to tackle it like a Linebacker. It didn't budge, but it also didn't react. It just kept roaring, not aware of its surroundings. The roars weren't incomprehensible, they were more moans: 'It isn't fair!" The boy looked at the beast and felt another emotion in his chest. Pity. He pitied the enraged beast, forever doomed the moan, blinded by its rage. He sat before it, laid a hand on its snout and said: "I know. It isn't. But that's just life." The beast didn't stop, for it would always be unfair. The boy did stop, however. He stood up and felt the rage go down.
The boy now realised he didn't know the way home. As he wandered through the forest, it was watching him. The trees were talking about him, judging him. Upon further inspection, the leaves seemed to have an aye pattern on all of them. As he wandered further, the mist became thicker. Then he heard a scream. A scream that acted like a knife that cut a wound of guilt into him. It was her scream. Next, he heard the voices. They were asking him questions he didn't know the answer to, accusing him in a passive-aggressive tone. ?Where were you? Why didn't you go with her? Weren't you her chaperone?? Thereupon their passive tone became aggressive and they started yelling at him. ? You were responsible! You should have protected her! It should have been you!? The feeling of guilt pressed on his shoulders. He agreed with them. He was responsible. He should have protected her. It should have been him. The mists started poking him. It went from poking to a stabbing. Then they were trying to kill him. And he just let it happen. He deserved this. He didn't cry of pain, he didn't twitch. He just wanted it all to end. His vision became fussy, but then he heard her. ?Please. Stay alive for me.? He didn't know why, but that was enough. The rage in his chest came back. He screamed at the mist: ?I know! I know I should have protected her. But it doesn't matter now. She's gone. And I can't do anything about it.?
She was gone. He would never hear her giggle again. He would never hear her cry again. He would never see her in her thin dress again. He wandered through the woods again, but this time with less of a purpose. He just wandered. The trees weren't judging him anymore, or they were but he just didn't notice. When he saw a light. It was warm and welcoming. He wanted to go toward it. He wanted to feel it. He strolled toward it. He felt the numbness before he saw it. Like the rage monster and the mists, it was another monster, but this one didn't look like it could fight. Its spindly arms and legs and scrawny appearance weren't exactly intimidating. But it was the strongest of them all. The numbness spread through his chest like a virus, a particularly deadly one. He felt the effect of the monster, but it didn't do anything. It just stood there, with hunched shoulders. It didn't even have a face. He fell to the ground, unable to get up. He couldn't fight it. He didn't even consider fighting it. The numbness was destroying him from the inside. How long he laid there he did not know. It felt like years, but it could also have been minutes. She would never come back. But he would. He powered through, feeling rage, guilt and her ghost all in his chest. He stood up and ran toward the light.
He stuck out his hand to the light. It felt nice. Warm. He took a step forward, into the light. He jumped back as it took the form of a window. It was his window, the weathered frame and all. He stepped through it, falling in his bed. The pain in his side didn't feel as bad anymore. The morning sun felt welcoming on his face. He lay down and whispered: ?Goodbye?
No comments:
Post a Comment