My Life in Reverse
Page 12
I take both of our plates, mine empty, hers still full, to the kitchen sink and scrape the food into the garbage disposal.
“You could put your hand down there,” she whispers from behind me. “Just stick your hand in there and bleed out all on the floor.” Her breath is hot on my neck, sending a chill down my spine as I think about the pain.
“Jeez, why do you have to be so freaking morbid all the time? Can’t we just enjoy this summer?”
I’ve had doubts from the beginning, and she knows that, but she doesn’t know that sometimes they creep back up. The doubt clouded by fear. What if there is something or someone out there that could make this all go away? A solution better than killing ourselves? Is there another way to stop the loneliness? When I’m finished cleaning up, all alone, I might add, I plop down on the couch and stretch out my legs.
“Let’s take a jog down the shore,” Poppy says, tossing a magazine on the table and sighing in boredom. She pulls her shirt over her head and throws it against the kitchen tiles. “Naked.”
“Are you crazy?” I stretch out more on the couch, too tired to get back up.
“Yes. What are they gonna do? Cite us for a court appearance in 6 months? An appearance we will never make it to?” She removes her bra and pulls her hair up into a ponytail. When she turns around, I can see every bone protruding from her body. Vertebra over vertebrae stacked up neatly behind a wall of almost translucent skin. I look away.
She has a point and that was the whole point of this trip. To do whatever we wanted with no consequences. This is our summer. This is our time. Our final goodbye. Before I talk myself out of it, I pull off my sundress and walk to the back door and pull it open. The beach is pitch black, no lights are present on this side of the island. We island dwellers are real humanitarians. We turn them off for the sea turtles. I feel my way down the long stairs, careful not to miss a step and fall and break my neck. Because wouldn’t that be sad? To fall and die on accident when this entire summer has been carefully thought and planned out?
We run to the shore, sand kicking up against our bare legs, and stop as the rough waves lick against our skin.
“It’s cold!” I scream to Poppy as I jump backward.
“Really? I don’t feel a thing.” She puts her hands out to her sides like she’s daring the sea to take her and lifts her face to the sky. “Can you see it? Where the sky meets the sea. Do you think we can find that middle ground?”
The sky is dark, lit only by the pale moonlight, but I can make out the jagged line in the distance. It’s the way we've decided to go. We will jump in the rough waters of the gulf bay and swim and swim until our arms and legs give out from exhaustion. Until we can’t go any further, and then sink into the dark abyss of nothing where we will never be alone. I’ve been too afraid to learn about drowning, but it’s the easiest way to go. Maybe our bodies will be discovered, perhaps they won’t. But there won’t be blood, and that’s what I’m going for.
“Race you to the edge of the island,” Poppy calls out. She begins running so fast that I can’t keep up. No one is outside at this time of night, and we race against our shadows on the beach. No matter how fast my legs move, I can’t keep up with her. Soon, her silhouette disappears into the darkness and I’m suddenly afraid. I don’t like being alone.
Without Poppy was never part of the plan, even from birth. Our mothers are twins, did I ever tell you that? They planned our pregnancies and inductions to coincide at the same time. The doctors told my mom I wasn’t ready to come out, but they both insisted that we would both be born on the exact same day. The two sisters had grown up so close, and they wanted us to have the same experience. It’s sweet if you think about it, but just a tiny bit obsessive. I mean, who in their right mind does that? They hardly talk anymore. Not since my mom helped Poppy get emancipated.
Poppy was born screaming at a healthy 9lbs and 4 oz. I was barely 6lbs. Jaundice from being born so early, I had to spend my initial days by the window as the sunlight healed my yellowed skin. Even as babies, I could never keep up with Poppy. She was always taller, smarter, and prettier. It was always Poppy and Murphy, never Murphy and Poppy. Poppy came first.
Poppy comes first.
I stop running and take a moment to look around and catch my breath. Until this very moment, I hadn’t been afraid of someone catching us, but as that fear folds over me, I hide my breasts with my hands. I feel eyes on me. I can’t see anyone, but I know they’re there.
“Did you forget something?” a voice calls from the darkness. “I was quite enjoying the view.”
I squat on the ground, silently cursing Poppy for leaving me all alone out here, and hoping the shadows will cover the intimate parts of me.
“Who’s there?” I call out. Still nothing but the waves crashing against the sand. “Who is there?”
“Here.” A blanket drops out from the darkness. I scramble for it, not caring where it came from. Next, a tall figure appears beside me. I can’t meet his eyes so I yell at him while staring at the green pattern on the blanket around me
“What in the hell are you doing hiding in the darkness and scaring me like that?”
“Why in the hell are you running through a public beach stark naked?”
“I asked first.” I pull the blanket around me tighter and dare to look up into his eyes. Dark eyes that don’t hold any amusement at all for this situation. His jaw tightens before it loosens into what I can only imagine is sympathy for me. His hair is medium length around his ears like it’s in that shaggy stage where he’s trying to grow it out, but it’s not quite long enough to do anything yet. It’s swooped to the side in a deep part which makes it look like he spent way too much time combing it this morning. That’s all I can really see, his lovely hair and eyes. The rest is a contrast of light and dark shadows. He holds his hands out to the sand before speaking.
“I was watching the crabs.”
“The crabs?” I stare at the sand and for the first time, I notice the little things scurrying across the sand. “Oh.”
“Now are you gonna answer my question?” he asks.
I lift my chin and take a deep breath. What I do is none of his business so I decide to tell him the half-truth. “I’m telling consequences to go dillywig themselves.”
His eyes scrunch up at my word usage. Alone, the word dillywig wouldn’t mean anything. It’s useless word vomit. I mean, it sounds like it could be a Pokémon, but in my phrase he must understand what I mean. After a minute, his brows scrunch up as he makes sense of my answer. “And how do you do that?”
“By doing whatever I want and not caring about what the world thinks.”
“Beautiful.” He doesn’t say much after that, and I’m unsure as to what he is calling beautiful. Surely he’s not talking about me. It must have been what I said. I walk away, but before I'm out of earshot he calls after me.
“Hey, can I have my blanket back?”
“No,” I call out. “You’re a serial pervert.”
“Hey, I was just sitting here minding my own business. I can’t help it that you ran by. I was just trying to be a gentleman.”
Little does he know, a gentleman doesn't actually exist.
I should warn Poppy about the guy on the beach, but she still hasn’t shown back up. I jog back to our house and throw the plaid blanket on the porch. My heart's still racing from my encounter with the guy on the beach. I can’t put my finger on it, but there was something about him that interested me. Why was he watching crabs all alone in the dark? Why were his eyes trained so intensely on mine? What was he thinking about sitting there? Why was he on the island? Not too many people live on the island, so he must be visiting, but from where? I push the thoughts from my head. I have no business even thinking about him. I’m here for one reason only, and I don’t need him as a distraction.
I’m upstairs washing off the sand when Poppy shows back up.
“Where have you been?” she yells out like I’m the one who disappeared.
“I was at the edge of the island like we agreed on.” She gives an annoyed huff and waits for me to get out of the shower. She hands me a towel before jumping in herself.
“So back up just a second and tell me about this guy on the beach.”
“There’s nothing to say,” I tell her. “I didn’t even get a good look at him. He gave me a blanket and said he was watching the crabs.”
“Sure, he was watching the crabs all right. That’s what they all say. Speaking of naked guys seeing you. You do realize you’re going to die a virgin right?”
I stick my head behind the shower curtain and stick my tongue out at her. She responds by trying to splash some water on me.
“Shut up.”
“We could change that, you know. Of course, we’d have to make sure he was really ugly or old so you wouldn’t be tempted to fall in love with him.”
“You’re disgusting, you know that?”
“Just making you aware of your options.”
I’m well aware of my lack of sexual experience, but sleeping with some stranger for the fun of it doesn’t appeal to me in the slightest. She gets out and stands in the mirror next to me. Through the steam that has accumulated, I can make out our different forms. Hers, tall and blonde. Mine, shorter with brown hair and a curvier build. My hair was lighter as a kid, more like hers. It darkened with age.
“I wish I had your boobs.” Poppy sighs.
“I wish I had your thin model legs.”
It’s a game we’ve played since the eighth grade. A sort of screwed up way of complimenting each other.
Poppy perks up like she’s just gotten the greatest idea ever. “Hey, you want to go fishing tomorrow?”
“Fishing?” My toothbrush is sticking out of my mouth as I stare up at her in confusion.
“Yeah, you ever been fishing?”
My father always went fishing. Every weekend since I can remember, but he never invited me. I think it was his time to be alone with his thoughts. When I was younger, I used to hover around his fishing poles and drop hints about how I wanted to learn or how cool it would be to catch something. No matter how hard I pressed, he never invited me, and I never asked to go. It’s not like I can blame him for not wanting to be around me. Maybe he thought fishing was a boy thing. I can see that now. Even grownups need alone time.
“Never, you?”
“Nope, but always wanted to try.”
Two peas in a pod. Me and Poppy. “Yup, how hard could it be?”
“I saw a fishing pole and gear in the garage downstairs. Let’s get up early and catch food for tomorrow.”
“Early?” I pull on my PJs and look at the time. It’s almost midnight. We had a late start today. I’m not sure I can get up that early.
“I think I read somewhere that fish bite best in the mornings.”
“In the sea? Are you sure?”
“In the sea. I’m positive.” She begins combing her hair and ignoring me.
“Fine, whatever.”
Thank you for reading a sample of SOS. To find out more about this book at the author, please visit brianagaitan.blogspot.com or http://amzn.to/2b3nrWL
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[1] http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/10/understanding-the-language-of-narcissistic-abuse/
[2] http://narcissistsupport.com/explanation-masks-narcissist/
[3]Credit Elephant Journal Website: http://www.elephantjournal.com/2016/01/love-bombing-a-seductive-manipulative-technique/
[4] Credit- Out of the Fog Website: http://outofthefog.website/top-100-trait-blog/2015/11/4/hoovering
[5] Credit: Goodtherapy.org http://www.goodtherapy.org/blog/silent-treatment-a-narcissistic-persons-preferred-weapon-0602145
[6] Credit Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Idealization_and_devaluation
[7] http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/10/understanding-the-language-of-narcissistic-abuse/
[8] http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/10/understanding-the-language-of-narcissistic-abuse/
[9] http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/10/understanding-the-language-of-narcissistic-abuse/
[10] http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/10/understanding-the-language-of-narcissistic-abuse/
[11] http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/10/understanding-the-language-of-narcissistic-abuse/