Heart of Fire | ONC 2020

9. charred

That night, Aera slept a deep, dreamless sleep.

When she awoke, she found Mason hungover and seemingly in an ornery mood. He approached the couch where she'd slept, his arms folded, bloodshot eyes on the floor.

"You have to go home." He spoke in a firm tone, his voice hoarse.

Aera drew her eyebrows together. "I won't— "

"I won't take no for an answer this time. At the very least, you must let your parents know that you're still alive," Mason insisted. He cleared his throat, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets. "And...if you're going to be staying here any longer, you'll surely require a change of clothes and other belongings, correct?"

Aera's mouth twitched; she tried to hold back a satisfied smile but could not. Mason waved at her dismissively—a signal to leave.

He staggered into the kitchen, turned the squeaky faucet on full blast, and dunked his head under the rushing water. Then he shook the water out of his hair as a dog would—rapidly whipping his head back and forth and splattering droplets all over the counter. "Woo! What hangover?"

Aera couldn't help but laugh at his eccentricities. She laced up her shoddy, handmade shoes and smoothed out her crumpled dress, rising from the couch.

"Don't be lighting any matches!" Mason called as she stepped through the threshold and into the empty hallway. She clicked the door shut behind her. Now it was silent, and she was alone.

~ * ~

The walk back to her parents' home was humid and scorching. The flood of sunlight bleached the color out of everything, its violent brightness overwhelming all else. With each footfall, more dread entered Aera's bloodstream, her temples pounding with heat.

Aera stopped outside the horribly familiar house, hovering one closed fist before the door. She managed a tentative knock.

The door was thrust open, revealing her mother's hardened stare.

"It's you," was all her mother said, her expression indifferent. The woman stepped toward the sink, plunging her arm in soapy elbow-deep water. Aera let herself in.

"Your friend—what's her name, Rosia?—came here, pounding on the door. She was crying. Absolutely inconsolable—I could barely understand a word," Aera's mother said, scrubbing dishes with swift, robotic motions. "She was looking for you, of course. She'd been bruised and bloodied. It was her father. Again."

"Did you let her in?"

"No," her mother snorted, "you weren't home."

"You made her go back to him?" Rosia asked, horrified. She balled her hands into fists, digging her fingernails into her sweaty palms.

"What was I supposed to do? She was looking for you, and you weren't here."

Her mother began to lay out the silverware to dry. Even her movements displayed irritation; the utensils clanked and scraped harshly against one another, sending shivers of discomfort up Aera's spine.

"And anyway, God knows I don't need another mouth to feed." Her mother's lips crinkled into an offputting grin. "Actually, it was kind of nice, having one less while you were gone."

Her father spoke up from the dining room, his face hidden behind newspaper headlines. "Speaking of, where the hell have you been?" She was surprised that he even cared enough to ask—but then he went on, "Your chores don't do themselves. You'll have to do some extra work for a few days now, earn your keeps."

Aera slipped silently into her bedroom, feeling tears threaten to spill from her eyes. She crushed her lids shut, holding them at bay.

It wasn't as if she'd been expecting a warm welcome, but that didn't mean the cold disregard didn't hurt—especially after she'd been treated so kindly, even for just one day. By two total strangers.

With blurry eyes, Aera located the burlap pack she had once used for school. In it, she stuffed several dresses, underclothes, her toothbrush, and the only book she owned.

It was a collection of Brothers Grimm Fairytales, stolen from her primary school at age seven. She had justified the theft as a parting gift for when she'd been pulled out of school to work. Aera had hidden it under her bed for years and had read it front-to-back perhaps two hundred times. She knew all the stories by heart, but it remained her most treasured possession.

She waited until the moment her parents were occupied in a convenient argument to sneak into the kitchen and out the back door.

The midday heat pressed down upon her once again. Aera almost started toward Mason's apartment when, with a pang of guilt, Rosia's face popped into her head.

She could not abandon her best friend, could she? But Aera also doubted Mason would agree to harbor two teenage runaways. At least...not without any prior discussion.

She started off down the street, feeling like a cracked egg in a frying pan. The black asphalt drew in even more heat, sending beads of sweat rolling down her forehead. Stopping at Rosia's was becoming a necessity; she'd need a drink of water for her trek back to Mason's, lest she suffer from heatstroke.

At her destination, Aera slinked around the house and stopped outside Rosia's window, tapping quietly on the glass. Seconds later, someone pulled back the curtain. It took a moment to recognize her friend, lip split open and eye swelled shut.

Rosia helped hoist Aera inside. The two girls sat on the bed, watching the curtains ripple with intruding summer air.

"What's in the bag?" Rosia asked. She spoke as if trying not to move her mouth too much, to avoid breaking open the healing cut.

"I'm leaving. Running away," Aera explained. It felt liberating to say it aloud.

Her friend's eye widened. "To where?"

"I met someone—"

"A boy?"

"No, just a—"

"Can I come?" Rosia whispered, leaning in.

It was the question Aera had been fearing. "You're almost an adult. I think you should leave the moment you can, on your birthday. Maybe I'll find a better job, then we can afford a place together. We'll both be free—"

"Rosia! What's that noise?" came a booming voice from across the house, followed by pounding footsteps.

Rosia's father was home.

___________

[ first update in a year! a good chunk of this was already in my drafts from April 2020, so I thought I'd post it. ]