Mariah braced herself for the worst. She knew it was coming. She exhaled loudly on purpose as she rode in the backseat while her parents blissfully ignored her. She wasn’t expecting much, it was like nothing happened the past week. She didn’t try to end herself. It was all a hoax.
How much more of this can she take? Was she not being obvious enough about everything? She tried to kill herself and its not real. She prayed that the world would be quiet and peaceful for once but it was almost as if that dream was ripped apart as soon as she came back to life. This is death, everything that goes with the fight.
She drummed her fingers upon the black leather car seat and rolled her eyes at the thought that her parents actually gave two shits about her. She didn’t know where it came from but, she had the feeling that they wanted to kill her in her dreams.
If only they did. If only they actually went through with it. What would that be like to die? It’s possible, its always possible. Just like The Hours, where Virginia Wolfe contemplates the idea of dying to lying in a silent, wastrel life without love or any kind of emotion. It feels like that most days. That was her favorite book.
Lately, Mariah has grown obsessed with death and how one dies. It’s the biggest mystery ever. Where do they go? What happens the moment in that moment when everything goes extra quiet? Between the lines of dark and light. She wanted to know. She was hungry for finding out the truth for once. At least something in her life would make sense.
She flicks away a lone tear falling fast and folded her arms. Everything was out control and things are back to where they were before. It was hard to believe alive when you’re brought back to life and nothing changes. Especially when you’ve raised yourself with a free-spirited outlook.
Before she got used to the solace in her mind, she was there. Back in hell. She was frozen in her place. Scared to move. Her eyes… the only source of action to her passive response. She looks at her tired fingers knowing nothing else. The lines reminded her of an old weeping williow and she didn't exactly fancy it much.
She shook roughly as Darla spoke, “Did you hear me, Mariah? Hello?”
She shook her head slightly, “What?”
Darla rolled her eyes, “I said step out and help me make dinner tonight.”
She started to protest with her arms, “Mom, I don‘t really wan--”
Darla held up her finger as yield sign, “No, the Chasezs will be coming over and we must treat our guests with respect. Now, get out and start helping me and your father with preparing it.”
Mariah was tight-lipped. There was no way out of this one. She’d have to just bite her tongue and do it. What she really wanted was to be by herself… Someplace where no one exists and the possibilities of silence is endless.
She groans as the world sucks once again and slops her way inside the house that she thought she’d never step in again. It looked slightly grainy, almost like out of some 70s archival footage. The walls were cracked and Mariah felt like she was closed in. The overall scenery was too stifling for her. She had the feeling that any moment, someone would jump out and scare her.
Mariah clutched her shoulders, trying to hide herself as she took slow steps toward her upstairs bedroom. She had to hold on the railing for a moment to stop her movements. She paused her brain. Everything was muddled beyond repair. It started all over again. The thoughts she had a week ago, the thundering realization of gloomy captivity.
The thoughts were sucked back into her mind as her eyes opened. She was thinking it again. About the moments that happened before it. She willed herself to move and it was barely there but she managed somehow.
She walked in and took off her jacket, placing it on the soft corner chair sloppily. She tries to clear her mind. She made a dash for her bed and collapsed face-first on top.
She closes her eyes. Life is still, lonely, cold, and helpless. She is dreaming but lying awake all the while. She moves her face to the left side for air, still trying to meditate.
Parents really don’t understand anything. It was like they don’t think twice before closing their legs as soon as babies are conceived. It’s not fair. For a while she thought it was all a phase. Like she could change the system or something. It’s a fucking corrupt system is what it is.
What is life if all you do is cry and dream of things that are out of reach? What kind of life is that? As she thinks about this, her eyes start to water. Yet again, she’s numb. It almost becomes a ritual now. Only she never knows when she will actually do it.
She hears muffled voices downstairs. Her eyes pop open at this. She grows curious a little.
Mariah drags her body up to her door and listens to the familiar voices. Its them, the family from the hospital. What was their name?
“The Chases? Who gives a fuck?” she said to herself tediously.
She noticed her mom and dad were in some kind of deep conversation again. It was gross to see how her mother actually cares to hear what people say other than herself. And her dad was worse. He always gave off the creepy Tom Cruise vibe.
But she also noticed someone not there. The man she met at the hospital. The man she gave her ring to. Something wasn’t right. She thought he was coming.
“Oh well…” she said absently.
She closes the door behind her and leans against it inside her room. She jumped as she heard the door knock against her.
She wanted to scream out but she knew she couldn’t. Again, she was robbed of freedoms. It was her life, well, what’s left of it anyway; not much.
She sighed, “Who is it?”
“Uh, hey, its Josh from well, from before. Can I come in?” He was nervous, but why was he the nervous one?
Can he? Eh… she looks around at the horrible mess in her room for the first time, “Uh, OK, hold on.”
She rushed to put her clothes away and miscellaneous nick-nacks in their correct places. She grabbed her jacket and flung it in the closet, closing the mirrored-door afterward.
She went for the door handle, turning meticulously. She knew who it was, she just wanted to appear less out of breath. She pulled the rest of the door open and looked at him.
She would hate to admit it out loud but he had this clueless expression on his face like he was caught doing something bad. It made him look like a child, almost cute.
Nervously she smiled and let go of the door to give a small wave, “Hi, what’s going on?”
He rubbed his neck as if shaking a thought out, “Oh, well, your parents are talking to mine now but, I think your mom said they might be going out to dinner. So they said--”
Mariah groaned visibly, “I have to go with them now? Shit, why today?”
She saw his expression and immediately retracted her comments. “I mean, your mom is nice, I’m sure your dad is too, but, I don’t know, I’m feeling like a social butterfly today.”
He started laughing, “No, uh, actually, she suggested that they go alone. Just the four of them. I was trying to say that but you cut me off.”
Mariah smiled sheepishly, “Oh, yeah, sorry… Well, so, OK, why aren’t you going?”
“Can I come in first? I kind of get the feeling I offended you by standing here.” He gestured to the where he was standing.
She nodded, “Oh yeah, sure.”
She got out of the way and took a seat on her bed. She watched him walk in kind of awkwardly. She wondered what he was thinking as he looked about her room. Soaking in the various materials dispersed every which way. Made her feel raw and exposed.
He wouldn’t guess she was spoiled, not by the way she’s acted so far to him. But half of the stuff, he guessed, she could survive without. Maybe there’s something else going on? He thought about that for a second. If there was, she’s a good actress in hiding it. Her parents seem too perfect to be considered acceptable. But it wasn’t her parents he was interested about. It was her.
Mariah cleared her throat, “I never seen a guy concentrate this much on someone’s room since Queer Eye.”
He shook from his thoughts and reacted with a slight scoff, “I’m not gay if that’s what your getting that.”
Even as he said that, he still was preoccupied with checking out her room. But his personal life is none of her business. “I never said you were or even asked it. I thought you were going to answer my question.”
He finally looked her. She was leaning on her elbows now, almost sensually but the expression she held, led to otherwise.
He took a seat on the chair in the corner; maintaining his distance. “What was the question again?”
She rolled her eyes pathetically, “Why didn't you go?”
“Because I wanted to stay here, with you.” he whispered.
She picked herself up from the bed and crossed her arms, “Why?”
He licked his lips, thinking, “Relaxes me. I don’t feel bored around you.”
Mariah broke eye contact and didn’t have anything to say. What could she say? She believed him? She knows what the feels like? She refused to believe it was that simple.
She tried to change the subject, “So what’s your take on Lindsay Lohan? Or Paris Hilton?”
She slightly rolled her eyes. This was the best she could come up with?!
JC threw his head back, laughing, “Yeah… I never cared much about those girls.”
Mariah folded her arm matter-of-factly, “Well, its important. You should have read the last US Weekly.”
“Maybe I should have.”
Mariah made a clucking sound with her tongue and gave a laugh, “I’m kidding. I don’t care for shit like that.”
“Figured, are you always this confusing?”
She rolled her eyes, “Uh, no. I was trying to make a joke. Obviously you don’t know what that means.”
“No, I do just fine. You’re just unclear or you were bailing out on my previous question. I feel its number two.” Josh rubbed his chin in thought.
He had her seized up. Got her right where he wanted her. She appeared vulnerable suddenly. He had this urge to just hold her. She looked a doll; a fragile one. One that needs to watched closely or else it’ll be destroyed.
He wished he knew what she was thinking, feeling… He doesn’t know anything about her, yet, she’s a part of his life somehow. Maybe he’ll never. But also, maybe she knows something he doesn’t. All thoughts he considered.
Mariah’s eye-lids closed in slits, “Well, you’re wrong… on both counts. Why are you really here? What do you want?”
She really didn’t want to get into it but she had to know. It was eating away at her like a virus.
Someone came bursting through the door before Josh could open his mouth. It was Darla and Mariah didn’t really want to know what this was about.
Darla looked skeptical a little, “What’s going on here?”
Did she actually think there was something going on? She’s the slut.
Mariah rolled her eyes, standing up with her hands placed firmly on her hips. “Are you kidding? Absolutely nothing is going on here. He was just about to leave.”
Mariah gestured to a shocked JC. It was his turn to speak, “Uh, I’m not leaving.”
Darla held both hands up, yielding what was about to occur. “Mariah, don’t talk to Josh like that, his family has been through enough. Show him some respect.”
And she hasn’t? “Mom, I’ve been through hell too. I really don’t need this shit pushed upon me now—“
“Watch it Mariah! Don’t use curse words in front of guests.” Darla stood firmly.
Mariah smirked, “Fine, I’ll wait till they leave.”
Darla sighed. When was her daughter going to learn anything? “Mariah, don’t be like that. Respect people please.” She looked back at Josh and gave small smile, “Joshua, sweetie, are you sure you don’t want to come out with us? Peter and I don’t mind.”
Oddly, Mariah was kind hoping his answer was no, maybe she didn’t want to feel truly alone now. Anybody was better than nobody.
She was afraid she might try it again. She waited for his answer which seemed to take forever and a day.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Next parts of the story will change in POV. I decided to just make some minor changes. So look out for them in the next coming updates!
Story Tags: jc
