Road of the Lonely Ones ✸ Paul Lahote

002. Torn Dead

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           In her dreams, Saskia was in another universe. A universe where she was still 11, sitting on her bedroom floor with her dearest mother behind her, the gentleness of her fingers braiding her hair in two plaits. Wind softly blew through her curtains, goosebumps arising on her pale skin and the taste of sour Altoids still lingering on her tongue. That's where she was, where she deserved to be. A time when nothing had come to hurt her yet. A time when her mother was still alive.

How she craved to be there. She yearned for the silence of it all.  Instead, she was now caved up in her room, the window open but no soft breeze. Her curtains now thrashed against the glass. Her hair was braided but her mother was not there. And now the taste of cigarettes stained her teeth. No, this was all wrong, this wasn't how it was supposed to go.

A particular harsh thrash of the metal railing from her curtains awoke her. The harsh glow of the main light she'd somehow managed to fall asleep with burned her eyes as she sat up. Her head still aching from earlier. After her incident at work, she was seen by Dr Cullen rapidly, only to be told it was nothing to worry about and to just take it easy —though she felt slightly relieved that she wouldn't have to put on anymore medication. Alice stayed by her side the whole time and even went as far as to drive her home. Leaving her at her front door with only the words 'Remember what I said' before driving off. Giving no room for Sas to even comprehend a response. 

Frustration crawled through her arteries, no one was giving her the truth. Or telling her what to be so careful of. She robotically made her family dinner, plating it up for them and leaving it on the table. She couldn't bring herself to eat anything. The horrible feeling that came from touching Alice still weighed down her chest. It was heavy. The teeth, the eyes, the blood. It was printed on the back of her eyes and it was all she would see. Saskia hoped a nap would clear her brain. But there was no luck, she still felt as if her head weighed more than a car. And what she saw, what flashed through her brain, she could recite it by memory. Every detail was still there on the tip of her tongue. Sas itched to know more. Know what it meant.

Another burn, more punishment. It was the only thing she could think of that would clear her brain and turn it to static.  The cigarette was doing nothing to fill the hunger nor the void she felt, but she was afraid she couldn't keep anything down. She was nauseous, her room suddenly stuffy, the taste in her mouth salty, the roots of her hair ached, her necklace too tight. That feeling stuck, it stuck on Sunday, on Monday, all the way through till Friday, when her next shift was ( since her manager had given her the week off after her incident ). Her throat itched with all the cigarettes she had been stress smoking, she coughed as she stepped outside, the cold air weighing heavy on her lungs considering she had barely left the house since Saturday, other than to go to school.

Today felt different, that's why she finally decided to go to work. Though her eyelids still stung with the image of whatever that creature was, she refused to acknowledge it. It was eating at her and she knew if she got herself too in deep with this it will kill her. The insane amount of nausea she had felt the past week caused her to lose weight, her eye bags were larger and her cheekbones sharper, as much as she hated that she'd let herself get like that at least she didn't look as much like her mother anymore.

The cafe was quiet when she reached it. 4pm. Her regulars should be here relatively soon. She could already spot Charlie Swans cop car pulling up round the corner. She'd start on his black coffee as soon as her coat was off. She adored the order of it all, the simplicity of the system, it soothed her brain. Calmed her down all the way so that she didn't feel the need to have an extra dose of her medication today. In fact, she was smiling, a real smile.