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monsters existed only in the minds of very creative writers or story tellers, but I know better now. Monsters are real. They just aren’t as ugly, or they don’t seem as mean. They’re hiding their true faces underneath masks of politeness and smiles, and it’s so easy not to recognize what lies beneath. I’ve made that mistake. I’ve faced monsters in their true form and I almost lost this battle. Out of nowhere, my protectors just surfaced and rescued me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay them for that. They saved my life.
I feel the cool morning breeze enter the room through the window, which I left open in the middle of the night, as it was too hot. I tighten my hold on the blanket around me, using my own body heat to keep the flow of hot air underneath the blanket going. A bird chirps a little. It sounds like she’s just outside my window. Well, technically it’s not my window. It’s Theron’s. I’m just borrowing it for one more night.
One more night. The realization hits me suddenly. I won’t be sleeping here again. I swallow heavily and it’s hard to do lying down. I wonder if they will remember me. The three. I know I’ll remember them for as long as I live and it won’t be just because they saved my life and cared for me when I was hurt. I know that a lot has happened and I probably shouldn’t trust my emotions right now. I’m too frail. It’s easy to see things which aren’t there. But I feel like there is something between us, between all four of us. Theron looks at me so lovingly. His eyes light up when he sees me. I think he feels for me what I think I feel for him. And, I’ve grown fond of Zarael, too. His quirky comments and knowledge on the most obscure stuff amuses me so much. Both of them are so heartwarming. They’re exactly the kind of guy I’d date. Either of them, really. Finally, there’s Dex. His machismo and pompous nature push me away and some of his comments are so annoying. But I can’t seem to get him out of my head. When I think of Theron and Zarael, there he is, too. It’s always the three of them, always together, never apart.
I know what Vanessa would say. Just go for it. I smile in the darkness, because I can almost hear her voice saying it and then chuckling. We’d both laugh, but we’d both know that she isn’t joking. She’s already had a threesome, with her boyfriend and some girl. Mom would freak out if she knew, but of course, who would tell her? I have no idea what I would be like in the sack. I think everyone likes to believe that it’s simply an innate set of skills you don’t know until you actually do the deed and then, it just comes naturally. You just know what you need to do. Something like kissing. You can’t know if you’re a good kisser, until you have that first kiss. And, mine was a disaster. I was wearing braces, and the guy, Tony Cole, had no idea that you’re not supposed to stick your tongue inside so much. Too much tongue, too much saliva, just very disappointing all together. My second kiss with the second guy was slightly better. Well, it was good enough for Ray Wayans to have me as his girlfriend for a whole month, but when he realized that I was not putting out as quickly as he hoped I would, he put an end to it. Vanessa told me not to be sad, that he was a jerk anyway. I guess I myself knew that, but it always hurts when you’re thrown away like some old rag.
I have no idea when exactly I slipped into sleep again, but when I open my eyes next time, Theron is sitting on the edge of the bed. His eyes are gazing at me lovingly and despite what Vanessa may think, I don’t consider this creepy behavior. He probably just came in, saw me sleeping and was about to wake me up when I opened my eyes.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he whispers, as my blurry vision starts to clarify slowly.
“Morning,” I reply, propping myself on my elbows. “What time is it?”
“Nine,” he tells me. “Dex sent me to wake you up. You need to get ready and come have breakfast.”
“I have nothing to pack,” I reply.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, standing up.
“A little,” I nod.
“We’ve got a real hearty breakfast today. Eggs, bacon, sausage, toast.”
“That’s lunch, not breakfast,” I smile, knowing that such a meal would keep me full all day.
“I could see if we got some porridge oats.”
“No, eggs and some bacon will be perfect,” I assure him.
As I’m still leaning on my elbows, my blanket falls down a little, revealing my bare shoulders. I’m not wearing anything underneath and the thought of him knowing this makes me blush. I glance at the door and see it’s closed. If he kisses me, no one would know. And, if something more happens, well… that would remain between us, too. I can feel myself shaking underneath his gaze, as it travels from my eyes, down to my neck and then to my bare skin. All he needs to do is lower his head. So easy. A deep yearning within me awakens, something I didn’t even know was there. And now, this power is taking over me. I’m burning with desire; I can feel the heat palpitating between my legs. If he touches me there, just once, I ‘m afraid I’ll come undone.
On the surface, I try to be calm. My breathing is slowing, I’m managing to keep it under control. But my desire doesn’t diminish. I want him to make the first move. But, he doesn’t. Instead, he extends his hand and covers my bare shoulders with the blanket, lowering himself only to give me a peck on the forehead.
“Get dressed and come eat. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”
With those words, he stands up and slowly leaves the shack, closing the door behind him. I can still feel my heartbeat, every single drum pounding inside my chest, like heavy pressure. The sound isn’t coming in through my ears. No. That steady drum comes from the inside, my mind feels it and I know it will remain a turbulent push until I leave this place forever. After that, it will only get worse. There will be a giant rock put upon my chest and no matter how hard I try sleeping through it, the pounding will remain with me. It won’t be a song. After all, it’s not a song now. I can’t pretend like it’ll become something else over time. There will be no relief from this heavy beating because the reason behind it will be so far away.
I need to focus on something else, so I get up. I get dressed slowly and suddenly; I remember how I was getting ready for that fateful interview three weeks ago. It was only three weeks ago and yet, it seems like a whole lifetime away. I wonder if I knew all this would happen, would I still go through with it? There is no mirror here. I can’t ask myself that. If I don’t hear the question out loud, I can easily pretend like I didn’t hear it. So, I stay silent.
I’m wearing the same checkered shirt and rolled up jeans. I see they’ve gotten torn on my left knee and I smile. It looks cool. Almost like I belong with them. But, the sad reality hits me mercilessly. I don’t belong here. I’m just a passenger they’ve mercifully taken in. I don’t know why I pretended it’s anything other than that. They’re good guys and of course they are expected to do a good deed. I guess I was their good deed of the day.
I look around the room, trying to memorize details. I know I’ll remember the place as a whole, but without details, I risk forgetting it. I look down at the worn-out green carpet. I go over Theron’s bookshelf again. Alice is there. So is Moby Dick. Peter Pan. Even Kafka is with the company. He’s the only person I’ve ever met who owns a book by Kafka. I see a few medicine books there, too. That must be where his medicinal knowledge comes from. I touch the hole in the wooden wall. I take a deep breath, trying to leave an impression on my mind. I smell wet tree trunks, moss, and rain. Trees are full of songs. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to hear them sing when I go back. I take a deep breath and walk out. There is no point in prolonging the inevitable.
I finish my breakfast quickly and answer the few questions I’m asked. Are you happy you’re going back? How do you feel? Are you excited? Despite different words, it’s still the same question, but I keep replying to it over and over again, with a smile on my face. I should be happy, right? I’m going home. Of course, I should be happy. I should feel like Robinson Crusoe after those long 28 years, when he was finally going home.
Shortly after, we all finish with our breakfasts an
d Dex stands up, arranging the plan. I’m not really listening. I glance at him, then Theron, then Zarael. Then back at Dex again. I see only their faces. Theron catches my eye; I quickly look down. Dex is too immersed into his explanations to notice I’m looking his way. Zarael has a meek smile on his face. He looks so unburdened by anything really. I envy that feeling. A few moments later, everyone stands up and I realize that the unofficial meeting is over. We’re all going. It’s happening.
The next hour is a haze. I’m standing in one place in the middle of all the shacks, outside. To my right, I see Theron’s shack. He’s inside. I saw him go in. I glance at the window, but I dare not look down. Thor is buried there. I heard what they were saying. It’s my fault that poor, sweet dog died. I know it, even though they don’t want to say anything in front of me. I’m upset and grateful for this at the same time.
Occasionally, the guys pass me by, asking if I need help with anything. I just shake my head, replying that I’m waiting for them. They just smile and continue with their business. Dex is nowhere to be seen. Zarael is also busy in his shack. I wonder if I should call my mother, but I feel like hearing her voice would release a flood of tears I’m desperately trying to contain. So, I decide against it. I’ll just ask Dex to text her that we’ve started when we do. That will be best.
Finally, the guys start gathering around me. They’re all ready, I can see it on their faces, even though not much about them has changed. They’re dressed in the same way, only now, every one of them has a red bandana tied around their necks. Their leather jackets look old and worn out. I guess that’s exactly how a leather jacket is supposed to be worn. Their boots are making too much noise as they move, but no one minds. The bikes are still parked in the same spot, waiting. We all turn to the left and see Dex coming, followed by Theron and Zarael.
“We all ready to roll?” he growls and the rest of the squad howls in agreement. “You’ll ride with me,” he tells me, pointing at me with his index finger.
I nod, following him obediently to his bike. It’s a large, black motorbike and to me, it looks high-performance. I know once he steps on it, it’ll be loud and noisy and I wonder how I’m going to listen to that for the next few hours. But then, I remember that my arms will be wrapped around his waist and I’m probably even allowed to press my cheek against his back. He sits on it and turns around to face me. It’s time for me to get on. I take a few steps and I start trembling. I’ve never been afraid of motorbikes before. I’ve never ridden motorbikes, to be honest, but I never thought I’d be afraid of sitting on one. Still, I push myself and I do what I’m expected to do. I swing my leg over the seat and adjust myself on it.
