Little Girl Blue - 𝐖𝐋𝐖

𝐈. Ludus- Nine

I think for the first time in days there was no rain. And usually folks see that as an opportunity to engage in summer activities; barbecues, days at the pool, bonfires by the lake. But not Jane. She preferred to stay in, cook her own food, tend to her own garden. Going out was only an occasional thing, unless she disappeared into the night and turned up again the next morning.

For the days following the delivery of the flowers, however, Jane was gone and the rain came back.

The first night she had used the excuse to finally go to the grocery store. The ride back from Greta's, Jane hadn't said a word. Her knuckles were burned white against the wheel, eyes darting in all directions but the road. I stayed up that night and waited for her. Partially afraid she would waltz back in intoxicated, needing my assistance to her bed or the toilet at the slur of my name. But she never returned and soon morning came.

And another day went by. Waiting, worrying, for Jane's arrival and what could happen when she showed up again. By the night of the second day I was no longer concerned. If anything, it had felt like something had possessed me and a prolonged anger fled my bones. I trashed the house. Throwing pillows, ripping books from the shelves, I even broke a vase. Something within me had cried out, at the top of it's lungs. Drained of any hope, full of fear. And when that was over, my throat stung from the wailing and screaming. My body ached in a way it never had before.

To my luck—if it were fair to say that— Jane didn't turn up the next day either. I starved for breakfast...and lunch and dinner. I sunk in the bathtub at dawn, the suds hardly doing any cleaning, loofah gathered at the drain. I managed to clean the house. At least then if Jane did come back it wouldn't be to her things destroyed and scattered.

The day dragged on. The sky was still dark, unable to tell night from day, and a violent storm thrashed over the city, winds and rains of record-breaking speeds.

Just outside of the window, the garden fled. Flowers flattened against the soil and the rows paved with cement blocks, sloshed over with mud and discarded leaves. It was depressing, really.

No food, no sunshine, no Jane. For three days. And each minute and hour that went by I was reminded of it. Sick to my core, somehow my empty stomach still landing at the bottom of the toilet bowl. My eyes were shot, my back and neck had a crook from the night I slept in a chair.

I think it was then that I knew I made a mistake. I became dependent. Of all things, on a woman I hardly knew. I had convinced myself I was a leech, becoming too consumed with the idea of her and me and this web of a mess I have gotten myself into, and by default, she was now involved in as well. And I knew that wasn't fair.

So I started to pack. No intention of where I'd be going but I knew it couldn't be here. She was messing up the plan. One I had spent months conducting every detail and outline for. And even then it had still gone wrong.

I didn't need anymore casualties.

Therefore it was settled that I leave— and I almost did. I had a note written, placed the mattress beneath the couch and rearranged the pillows. All for Jane to show up, hair whisked around, swollen lipped, at the front door. And if I could take it back to not have seen it I would, but there was also a hickey, fresh and red, close to her ear. I wouldn't have caught it if she hadn't taken off her hat and if her hair hadn't gotten caught between her jacket and collar. But I did.

"Where are you going?" She had said it so casually.

I gulped, a new anger overcoming me. "I think it's time that I leave."

She peeled the sleeve from the jacket down, "and why do you think that?"

With my weight on one leg and my arms crossed, I could feel myself growing impatient, "I know you think I'm incapable of making my own decisions—"

"I don't think that, Florence."

"You do."

"I don't, actually. I believe you are very capable." She found her way to the kitchen after having stripped from her rain coat and hoodie.

Something about her tone bothered me, but I followed her into the next room anyway. Staring at her by the sink, pouring from a green bottle with a long neck. With her head tilted, I could see the bruise even more visibly than before.

I scoffed, "Did you get those groceries?" I couldn't tell where my tone was coming from. It was short and hostile, full of all of the sickness and frustration I endured during her absence. I simply wanted sleep. But now with her here, seemingly fine, standing at the window with a love bite stuck on her skin, struck a nerve.

Jane sighed. "No, actually. I got sidetracked."

"With Kaylee?" I hadn't meant to say it but in a way, I was glad I did.

She drank, "Would it matter?" We both knew it didn't.

But I had felt abandoned and I had the urge to let her know that. "No but you left me stranded here for three fucking days!"

"I know, that was a bit reckless.."

"I was alone in the middle of a storm!" I spat.

"You're right, it was wrong."

"All so you can what, screw some chick?"

The glass slammed on the granite, I thought it would break. Then, and only then, had I realized I was actually yelling.

"I know leaving you here alone was wrong. I should've called and I apologize for not doing so. However, what I choose to do in my free time is none of your business. And you will not," She took a deep breath, "speak to me like that in my own house." Jane downed the last of the drink and flung the mug to the edge of the sink. I had been standing still, startled at how loud and stern her voice had gotten, how angry she had gotten.

It seemed we were both at a war with something within ourselves, each doing a terrible job of concealing it and trying to find a way for it to not affect the other. I knew it, Jane knew it. That's why it was best the questions go unanswered. But for her to have yelled, was something unexpected, untamed.

She stood over me, thumb and forefinger clasped on my chin. "Am I clear?"

I nodded, scared almost. "Say it, Florence."

"Crystal." I gritted.

My chin was yanked back, Jane's eyes retreated back to the soft green, no longer sickening and villainous. "Good. Now put your stuff away and get ready for bed. You're not going anywhere." She said before fleeing behind the staircase.