"It's beautiful," said Olivia.
"Maybe we should go inside. That does not look right." He shifted uneasily.
"Just wait. I want to see it close up. Don't worry. I can feel it. It's not bad."
So they sat there. Waiting. Invincible.
"Quick get in." Michael called from the back doors.
"No, come out here," she said, beckoning him over.
"I'm not kidding." He was shouting at full force as a roaring wind swooped in.
"It's just a little weird weather. What are you so afraid of?"
"Can't you see. This has to have something to do with it. What if it's some sort of biological weapon? Maybe that, whatever it is, caused all this craziness. I'm not letting us take the risk."
"You can do what you want. I can accept my own risk."
"Fine." Michael sat down next to her. "So will I."
She took his hand in hers and smiled, not wanting him to sense her uncertainty. She didn't want him to pay the price for her curiosity, but she had to know what this was.
The fog came in slowly at first, a fine mist that swirled around them. The air felt heavy and damp, but not dangerous. When it consumed them completely, Michael's hand disappeared from hers. "Are you still here?" her voice echoed in the blue wilderness, and she felt weightless, like an astronaut floating in space. Then she couldn't breathe.
Something bared down on her, and she pushed back up against it. A light shone from above, and she knew she had to get to it, but whatever was forcing her down did not let up. She needed to breathe. Her hands flailed instinctively, and she kicked her feet, writhing until she managed to dodge the obstruction that kept her prisoner. Gasping, her head broke the surface, and she could breathe again. She could barely process what she was seeing. To go from nothing, to a world of color. It was a pool, not Corey's pool. So many people. Parents with small children, teenagers fooling around. Real honest to god, normal people. She swam towards them.
"You can't get away that easy, you little turd."
She barely had time to turn around and see the boy before she was plunged back into the abyss. The water muffled the cruel laughter from the surface. She was so close to the surface, but every time she was pushed back down by her head. All she wanted to do was breathe, but she gave up, sinking to the bottom like a rock. When her feet hit solid ground, a weight lifted from her and she could finally breath.
"Michael" she screamed into the mist. His voice called back to her, and she stumbled towards it.
Whenever she moved towards the voice it would change direction, getting further away.
A sharp cramp shot up her stomach and back, and she doubled over. The pain made her inhale sharply as she waited for it to pass. A warm, wet feeling tickled her inner thigh as something made its way down her leg. She wiped it with her hand to find blood, thick and sticky on her fingers. Tears came from out of nowhere as a crushing despair hit her. She didn't know what the feelings were, or why they were there, but she had to scream.
***
"Make it stop." Olivia yelled, curling up in the fetal position and pleading to feel normal again. The sadness and anger inside her made her feel like she might explode and she banged her forehead against the cold, hard floor. She couldn't stand being conscious for a second longer and had to make it stop.
"Olivia, what the hell are you doing." Arms wrapped around her head, cradling it, protecting it.
She squeezed her eyes closed and let him rock her. She couldn't see him, but she knew it was Michael.
"You're okay. It's gone now."
"I could feel everything. It was so awful."
"What could you feel?"
"All your pain. All your trauma. Every last one of you. All piled on top of each other. I can barely deal with my own pain, but I felt it all." Even the memory of the pain was too much to handle, and she wrapped her arms around him. She needed anything she could to replace the feelings.
"I'm so sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Michael looked puzzled.
"For what you went through. All of you."
"What are you talking about?" Luke got closer.
"I was there, in your worst moments."
"Like what?" Luke stiffened up.
"I remember a red water slide, lots of people, and he said, 'You can't get away that easy,' then I couldn't breathe."
The color drained from Luke's face, and he averted his gaze. "How could you know that?"
Dana ran from the house with a towel and blankets bundled in her arms. "You look freezing." She draped a towel over Olivia's shoulders, and Olivia grabbed her hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how much it could hurt."
"Are you talking gibberish again? You were spouting some crazy stuff earlier."
"I felt it. The loss you felt. Trying so hard for something and having so much hope. Having something you plan your whole life around that is always out of reach."
Dana's eyes widened as she looked down. "Um Olivia... You're bleeding." She pulled the blanket down off Olivia's shoulders and wrapped it around her waist for her. "Why don't we get you cleaned up?" Dana guided her into the main house.
***
A retro cassette player blasted old school rock music that sounded like it was recorded in someone's basement, as Olivia curled up on the couch, and Zoe fussed over them. "You two look rough." She squeezed in between them and laid the blanket across the three of them. The couch was huge and easily accommodated the three of them as Michael prepared dinner, and Dana and Luke played a game of pool.
"Dinner is served," Michael announced, carrying a tray full of pots of instant noodles. "Only the best for us."
"You are an angel." Zoe took a pot from the tray and dug a fork straight in. "This music is amazing."
Olivia held the warm pot between her hands. "All I want to know is why Corey has an ancient cassette player." She tried to appear upbeat and keep the dark feelings away, although they were bound to re-emerge at 3am in the morning, while everyone else way asleep and she tossed and turned.
"He told me he kept it as his band made a tape and he can't bring himself to part with it. He said he wanted to a rock star but he couldn't get the hang of the guitar."
"I need to hear this tape. There is no way I can go any further in my life without hearing it."
"You're already listening to it," Corey yelled from the pool table before striking another ball with the cue.
"This is you?" Olivia managed a genuine smile.
"I might go chat to Corey," Zoe whispered, looking at Olivia and Luke expectantly, as if requesting their approval.
"Go for it."
Zoe approached the pool table looking unsure of herself, like she might turn back at any second.
"My favorite person." Corey opened his arms wide. "Fancy being on team Corey? I'm kinda losing here."
Zoe stood next to him and watched Dana line up her shot.
"I might head to bed. I know it's early, but I feel so drained," said Michael, as he collected the empty noodle pots.
"Lame." Olivia put her empty beer bottle on the table. "You couldn't pass me another beer while you're up?"
"Am I your butler now?"
"Please? I'm all cosy" Olivia widened her eyes and stuck out her bottom lip.
"Of course Madam." He took the empty pots and bottles to the kitchen. The beer was doing its magic. Coursing through her veins and delivering dopamine.
"Here you go. See you upstairs later?"
"Sure thang." Olivia waved. "Good night." She needed at least two more drinks before she would be ready to go to bed. She watched him climb the stairs sluggishly.
"So today was... intense." Luke downed the rest of his bottle and reached for another.
"Tell me about it."
"About what you saw earlier."
"I don't even know how to describe it. It was like I was still me... but not at the same time."
"I wish you hadn't seen me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like even more of a los
er than I am now."
"What are you talking about? You were just a kid."
His head moved towards hers, and time moved in slow motion, frame by frame. She jerked back awkwardly, apologised, and looked down. "Sorry I ugh." She didn't know what to say.
Luke coughed and got up from the couch. "I'm pretty drunk. I'm going to go sleep." He avoided direct eye contact, but she still recognized the red-faced look of humiliation. She knew it only too well.
She said nothing and let him leave. The situation couldn't end soon enough. After he left, she let out an audible groan.
"That was brutal." Corey laughed.
"Oh, please, don't." She put her head in her hands and cringed. She had that same horrible feeling she would get on a Monday morning after a wild, drunken work night out at the weekend. "I'm going to bed."
"Careful you don't accidentally walk into Luke's room."
"Don't. I mean it." And with that, she hurried up the stairs. All she wanted was a pillow to sink her face into a pillow.
The upstairs hallway was dark, and Olivia tip-toed across the hard wooden flooring with her bare feet. She slinked almost silently into her room. Michael emerged from under the covers to switch on the torch that lay on the bedside table. She loved that he was like her and had to have a blanket no matter how hot it was. Luckily it was a cooler evening so she hopefully wouldn't wake up covered in sweat. He looked so cute when he was sleepy, puffy eyes and hair in disarray.
"Room for one more?" She slipped under the covers and turned to face him, resting her head on her hand. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you earlier, about the mist. You were right. It's dangerous."
"I'm just glad you're okay." He looked into her eyes.
"I wish you were okay."
"I'm fine," he laughed unconvincingly.
"It's hard to describe what I felt because it was all of your pain rolled into one. I know your parents gave up on you, and I know how it felt. You didn't deserve that."
"It is what it is I suppose."
"You shouldn't minimise it."
"Well, they're not going to change so what good is getting made, or sad going to do."
"I see you found the oxy in Corey's bathroom." Olivia's eye's settled on the pill bottle on the bedside table."
"It's been a hard day."
"Hey, no judgement here. You do what you gotta do."
"I will stop."
"Okay." Olivia rested a hand on his chest and kissed him. As they got closer and her heart raced, everything else faded into the background.
FACING YOURSELF
Luke inspected his face in the mirror. His nose stood out more than anything. Why was it so red? It just decided it wasn't obvious enough being twice the size of other people's noses. It had to be a different shade from the rest of his face to stand out even more. His eyelashes were so pale. The color of his eyelashes would keep him awake at night. He tilted his head up to look at his non-existent bone structure. 'A face like play dough,' his mother used to say. He moved down to his arms. Pale, skinny, gross. He put his hand around it to feel the circumference. Muscle just didn't want anything to do with him. All the protein and dead lifting in the world couldn't help him. He'd tried for many pointless years. Next was his stomach as he lifted his shirt. For someone so skinny, his belly still bulged out. A belly like a woman in her second trimester. Next was his chicken legs. Knobbly and pale, leading to over-sized feet. The hairs on his toes bothered him. He wanted hair on his face but could avoid shaving for months with nothing to show for it, yet his feet were like some sort of great ape.
The sound of laughter floated across the hallway to his room and mingled with the voices in his head. He wondered if it was Olivia and Michael laughing. Either they were having an awesome time sharing a room together, or talking about him. Having a good laugh about what a fool he made of himself. He couldn't decide which was worse. The laughter got louder and louder and was also drifting up from downstairs. They were all laughing. They were all hooking up. All whores. No idea what is good for them, always picking the same guys. Guys that would treat them like shit. Guys that would toss them away just for fun. Why couldn't they just enjoy the fact that they could lead normal lives without taking the time to mock him? Bitches. The high-pitched laughter made him grit his teeth. Why was it so loud? He covered his ears and sat on the floor. Shut up! Shut up!
After he closed his eyes and covered his ears, the laughter softened and he looked back up at the mirror. Such a sad sight. Slumped on the floor. Pathetic. A small part of his brain told him to give himself some compassion, which only angered the other part even more. How dare you even think about cutting yourself a break, you worthless piece of shit. He smashed the mirror with his fist, and shards fell down all around him like glistening, icy rain. A large shard called to him from the carpet. Shining and sparkling, drawing him in like a magpie.
He started with his belly, drawing the sharp edge across the pale skin. It didn't hurt, it never did when it was self-inflicted. It was more like an itch. He moved the glass up to his face and wondered if he could carve a new jaw line for himself. The glass slid through easily and the warm sticky blood gushed onto his hand, dripping down his arm. So much blood.
***
The torch rolled off the bed and clattered onto to the floor.
"Let me just get that." Michael went to move.
"You're not going anywhere." She pulled him back into bed and ran her fingers through his hair as she pressed up against him. "I've waited long enough."
"It hasn't been that long."
"Are you kidding?"
"I just mean sometimes it's kind of hot if you can't have it. When you obsess about it and long for it."
"Well, I have no impulse control so here we are." She climbed on top of him and took off her bra. "I want you."
A smashing in the night broke the peace, and they flinched.
"What was that?" Michael sat up straight with her still straddling him.
"Who cares, someone broke something." She kissed him again -- she couldn't stop.
"I can hear something else though."
"It just sounds like laughing."
"I'm telling you something isn't right. I can go check it out if you want, while you keep the bed warm."
"No, way. I'm coming with you." She grabbed her top from the floor.
They tip-toed out of the room, listening carefully for the sound. It had started as a laugh, but turned into a whimper that was barely audible. The hall way was dead-quiet and dark except for the gentle sobbing and the flagging beam of the torch running low on battery. The noise got slightly louder as they approached one of the doors.
"Hello?" Michael gently rapped on the door with his knuckle.
"Fuck off." Luke shouted.
"He sounds really pissed. Maybe we should just leave him to it." Olivia stepped back from the door.
"No. I'm going in." Michael grabbed the door handle.
He gasped and ran into the room, slipping slightly before coming to an abrupt stop. Luke was sat on the floor with his legs tucked up to his chest, and a knife in his hand. It was so dark it took them a moment to notice the blood smeared with footprints.
"Put the knife down." Michael got closer.
"I keep cutting, and it keeps healing," said Luke with a vacant glaze in his eyes.
Michael slipped the knife out of Luke's hands and checked him over. There wasn't a scratch on him, just a pool of blood that had spread across the room and soaked into the carpet. It looked almost black in the dark, and thick like treacle.
"Luke what were you doing?" he asked.
"I don't know. I'm sorry,"
"You have nothing to be sorry about." Michael held Luke as he cried. It was a cry free from inhibition like that of a baby screaming.
Olivia felt sick and guilty. The thick, tar like blood smelt like beef that had been left out for too long. Her head spun like she had been on one too many fair ground rides and she had to get away. She vomited in the hallway and shudde
red as she continued retching. Another light source shone up from the bottom of the stairs.
"What is going on up there?" asked Dana.
"We're up here." Michael shouted from the bedroom.
Dana and Corey raced to the top of the stairs and stopped to see Olivia doubled over and heaving.
Corey saw the contents of her stomach that had ended up on the floor. "Too much to drink?"
Michael signaled to Corey to look in the bedroom. "Jesus Christ. What have you done to my guest room?"
Luke just stared at him blankly.
"Fuck this shit. I can't be dealing with this right now." Corey stormed past them to the master suite at the end of the hallway.
"Is Luke all right?" Zoe asked.
"Physically sure. Mentally, I'm going to say no."
"Can I do anything?"
"Girl are you coming?" Corey called from the end of the hall.
"Zoe you should go. Enjoy yourself. You deserve it. We'll make sure Luke's safe?"
"But?"
"Go ahead. We've got this under control." Michael urged her, before picking Luke up from the floor. "Right, you're coming with us. You can have the bed, and we'll sleep on the floor. I'm not letting you out of my sight."
Michael brought him into the room without protest, and Luke did as he was told, docile, as if part of his brain was missing.
LOST TOGETHER
Luke sat in the rear passenger seat, staring vacantly as the others packed the car. Michael slotted the last bag in wherever it would fit, like an expert Tetris player, and slammed down the lid of the trunk. As Olivia went to open the driver's door, Zoe grabbed her arm. "Can I speak to you?" She lowered her voice. "In private."
"Sure. What's up?" Olivia walked with her and they settled under the shade of a tree.
Last Detour Page 10
