The Fog

After two disturbingly paralleled incidents, Laura's life is transformed.

 Laura, a six-year-old, carefree girl, ran through the forest, her blonde hair flying backward. She wore no shoes, so with each step the soil engulfed her tiny feet, and she loved the feel of it. It reminded her of the time she dipped her hand in birthday cake and wiggled her fingers in the sticky, white and blue mess, causing Mom and Dad to scowl. But they didn't send her to her room like they might have on any other day. It was her birthday. If only everyday could be her birthday; then, she could run though this forest whenever she wanted and never be scolded.

The branches drooped here, but none of them were low enough to hinder her while she ran--yet. The branches were covered in these vivid leaves that reminded Laura of veined, green teardrops. In some places there were bright patches of grass, like someone littered emeralds. Laura ran her tiny fingers through the blades and inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the crisp air. She imagined her lungs being these red balloons that expanded and shrunk every time she breathed. These thoughts she treasured like gold; they gave her a sense of understanding.

Her giggles were the only audible thing in this green place, for she had mastered the art of running silently (only press down with your toes!), and nobody else came here anyway, except for the deer and the rabbits. Sometimes she'd hear the scurrying of a rabbit--such timid things, and she loved them for it--but that was about it. Or she'd hear Mom and Dad calling for her, saying it's dinner or lunch or blah blah. And Laura didn't mind being alone. The rabbits and deer were quite enough company to satisfy her.

Sometimes she'd bring friends to the forest, like Ashley or Elle, but she couldn't convince them to love it as much as she did, even when she brought them during autumn when all the leaves turned pretty reds and oranges. Laura liked it even when all the leaves fell off. One winter when the trees went naked, Laura did too.

Her parents didn't like that much.

“Laura! What were you thinking? You could get frostbite! Do you want your fingers to fall off? No? Then never do that again!”

Laura never did that again, though she didn't regret it.

Fog would often roll in as well. Upon first sighting the fog, Laura's pupils dilated, her heart beat faster and her breathing quickened. It mystified her with the way it curled around the thick trunks she had come to love. It seemed as if the fog were protecting the forest, like a gaseous security blanket.

~

As Laura grew older, she developed much earlier than her peers. She thought that when she was a grown-up she'd become a botanist; that way, she could be around plants all day instead of humans. So, when she filled out at the age of twelve, she developed a habit of running to the bathroom and crying whenever too many eyes were directed at her chest. Never in her life had she garnered that much attention. How much longer will they do this? Laura asked herself.

Laura looked at people like Rebecca who were skinny as a pole, just like she was a year ago, and how they were always trying to capture people's interests. Rebecca loved attention. She interrupted class to spew vapid comments, she stuffed her bra, she wore pounds of make-up. Laura thought she'd love to switch bodies with Rebecca, because without Rebecca's booming voice she'd be hidden in the shadows, never noticed by anyone. Rebecca wasn't a mean girl either, though she did seem awfully jealous of Laura.

Laura only looked at Rebecca and sighed. She sighed when she saw herself in the mirror, too.

It was when Laura turned thirteen in August that she went shopping for school clothes, and she ascertained that everything she picked out hung loose. They'll never stare now, she thought, so maybe this year will be peaceful. For the most part, this tactic seemed to work. Few people looked at her past the first day of eighth grade, and Laura felt like how she used to. She felt like a little girl whose only wish was to have more time to play in the forest behind her house.

A few weeks into eighth grade, Laura stayed after class at the end of the day to speak to Ms. May about her Physical Science homework.

“I'm not sure I understand momentum,” Laura said.

“Well, the heavier something is and the higher it's speed, the more force it takes to get it going,” Ms. May said. “You can use the formula p equals MV to determine something's momentum. Try that on question four.”

“I think I get it. Thanks, Ms. May.”

Ms. May smiled and then Laura walked out of the classroom. Nearly every student had left the school except for a few clubs that were gathered in rooms 206, 67 and 124. Laura walked down the vacant hallway, looking at the homework paper and trying to calculate answers in her head. What's 52 times 4?

And then it happened.

One of the janitors, Tommy, flung his arm out and clung to Laura's sweater, yanking her into the girl's bathroom. The homework flew out of Laura's hands and drifted to the floor. A tsunami erupted in Laura's system, flooding her system with adrenaline and cortisol. She shoved her fists into his chest and try to peel herself away, but he pushed her against the wall. Just when she was about to scream, a dirty washcloth invaded her mouth. Then, he shoved his grubby hand underneath her black sweater and groped her. Tears burst out of Laura's eyes.

“Nice big t*****s,” he said.

The words were like acid in her ears. They leaked into her head and melted her brain.

His beady eyes were glued to her chest and his teeth were clenched and exposed as his free hand began to move downward.

Laura clenched her fists and closed her eyes. Before he could go further, she spit out the washcloth, shoved her knee into his balls. Tommy groaned and tore his hands away from her to reach for the injured part. Laura rammed her arm into the wooden door and darted out of the bathroom. Then, she crossed the still-empty hallway and propelled her arms forward. Her hands collided with the glass door. It flitted open. Sunlight instantly showered her. She threw her right leg forward, then the left--eventually she was sprinting along the sidewalk, trying to get as far, far away from that school as possible. Laura sucked in air like a vacuum, but she still felt as though she were suffocating. No matter how much she inhaled, she couldn't inflate those red balloons in her chest. Why? Why? Why?

She crossed her arms against her chest as she ran, the liquid beads sliding down her face. As she felt the warm, salty tears, she thought of the venose leaves in the forest behind her house. She always thought of those teardrop leaves--the ones that soothed her like sweet nothings--when she felt her own; it filled her with comfort to think this, for it seemed she was part of the forest. Connected. Every face that she saw on the street, even the wrinkly one of an old woman, seemed like it was staring into her soul, peeking at her internal grime. And at the moment, she never wanted to see another human again.

I'm dirty. I'm disgusting. She shook her head and imagined the pieces of burned brain flying out of her ears. But that wouldn't fix her damaged innocence.

His croaky voice wouldn't leave her mind; it was poison. The sound... Just recreating the sound of it in her head made her feel like a dagger was puncturing her chest.

When she made it to her house, she crossed the lawn and dashed through the wondrous collection of trees. The tips of the branches sometimes scratched her cheeks, but she didn't care.

A thick fog was moving in just as she entered, slowly swallowing the brown bark and green leaves. The vast vapor was like a surreptitious serpent as it slithered between the trees. Everything was hidden.

Including her.

Laura pressed her back against one of the trees, letting the fog swallow her. Instantly she felt safe. No one could hurt her here, not while the mist engulfed all.

~

Laura, now sixteen, lunged forward upon hearing the beeping of the alarm clock. The red numbers read six o'clock.

She pulled back the covers and stepped onto the carpet, running her fingers through her waist-length, blonde hair and yawning. The world was new--inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. She walked to the bathroom.

She went through the routine of taking a shower, brushing her teeth and her hair. Then came her her morning ritual: putting on bright red lipstick (making sure to go quite a bit beyond her actual lips), pounds of coal-black mascara, and an inch-thick layer of foundation. After her face was fully painted, she slipped on a black pencil skirt and a low-cut, ruffled green shirt and then dashed down the wooden staircase and flew out of the house, picking up her school-bag and slipping on her black heels along the way. The breeze rustled the tree's leaves and kissed her face, and the cool autumn air poured into the red balloons inside her chest. The sky was a pure white, like a blanket of snow shielding her town from outer-space. With each of her footfalls the leaves clattered, as if they were kissing her shiny black high-heeled shoes.

After she hopped inside her Bug and started her drive to school, she occasionally puckered her lips and looked into the vanity mirror, marveling at the candy red plush. On her drive she played “Beautiful” by Christina Aguilera.

“So consumed . . . trying hard to fill the emptiness,” she sang.

She was ecstatic about talking to Ricky, her boyfriend of one month who had been giving her gifts every other day. She half-believed that all the stuff was stolen from his sister Rachel's bedroom, especially because she heard Rachel complaining to her friends about her missing jewelry, but she pushed that thought away.

The drive only took seven minutes. When she veered her car into the school parking lot, she darted her eyes along the brick wall of Mayson High School, looking for that tall, muscular, greasy-haired Ricky, who was most definitely wearing a dirty black t-shirt and a mud-stained pair of blue jeans (doing laundry was his least favorite chore). Oh, and she spotted him all right, talking to two of his nearly identical friends who she probably would have gone out with, too, if one of them had asked first. So she parked at the front and slipped out of the car, pulling down her shirt a little and grabbing her bag. Her heels click-clacked against the asphalt and then the concrete as she approached Ricky, smiling. When his dark eyes landed on her, he grinned and then walked past his friends to get to her. He's coming, he's coming! she thought.

“Baby,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist. His eyes flicked down to her breasts just before he embraced her, which made Laura smile even wider.

“I missed you, Ricky!” she said as they pulled away from each other.

“Yeah, I missed you, too, babe. Hey, I got somethin' for ya.”

She watched him dig inside his pocket and pull out a tiny white flower. Then, he stuck the stem of the flower in her blonde hair.

“Hey, now you're even prettier.”

“Oh, Ricky, thank you!” She flung her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, Laura,” Jay said behind Ricky.

“Hi Jay,” she responded.

“Why don't we head on inside?” Ricky said. “Class is 'bout to start. Unless . . . you wanna skip with Jay and I.”

“Carter can't come?” she asked, darting her eyes at him.

Carter, a tall 17-year-old with blonde curls, was biting his nails and not looking at the rest of them.

“Nah, Carter can't skip no more or else he'll get kicked out of football for bad grades. Right, Carter?”

Carter didn't say anything.

“Aw,” she said. “Well, where could"”

“I'm leaving,” Carter said and then walked off without a wave or anything else.

Ricky turned toward Carter. “Bye, CJ,” he said, and then turned back to Laura. “Your parents home, Laura?”

She looked down. “No, they're at work. And I've only got biology first hour. That class is so easy it's a joke.”

She instantly felt regret when she said that because Ricky, who was a grade ahead of her, couldn't pass biology last year and was taking it again this year.

Jay lifted his back off the wall. “C'mon,” he said. “We'll take my car.”

“All right,” she said. “Let me just go to the bathroom first.”

She walked to the front door as fast as she could in her high-heels, and knew just what Jay and Ricky and Carter were looking at behind her. Her palms collided with the glass and then she walked into the school, eliciting a few glances in her direction. After she walked past the stairs and stepped into the hallway, she weaved through the crowd of people until she reached the bathrooms. Inside her stomach danced butterflies as she thought of spending the next hour with Ricky, handsome Ricky--but then the butterflies abruptly shriveled up and died when Laura opened the girls' bathroom door.

There he was.

Tommy, the monster, the demon, the devil, was crouching down as he washed the tiled floor, his scraggly, oily hair covering the back of his neck. Her eyes wandered down the length of his arm.

Acid words, acid words, acid words. The taste of the dirty washcloth in her mouth. The heavy tears bursting out of her eyes. His hand, his sickening hand.

After turning around, his beady eyes moved up and down her body, and then he smiled, revealing his yellow, rotting teeth.

Instead of screaming like she wanted to, she flung herself around and dashed down the hallway that was just flooded with fluorescent light: she felt so exposed, so she lifted up the top of her shirt and wiped off lipstick off with the back of her hand, coating her skin with a blood-like smear. Eventually, in her haste, she banged into a boy.

“Sorry!” she said, not even looking at his face.

She continued whizzing down the hallway--click-clack, click-clack went her heels. Suddenly she felt her heel land wrong. Her ankle bent painfully--her balance was gone, gone, gone, and she couldn't retrieve it, and then she flung her arms out as she felt herself falling toward some blurry figure next to her. The person dashed forward just before she hit them, and then all the other people close by did, too, and eventually she was alone as gravity pulled her to the granite floor. She slammed onto it, causing instant pain to flood her hip and shoulder and the side of her face. A few people gasped.

“Are you okay?” a person asked.

Quickly, as embarrassment and the impact of the collision turned her pale face pink, she slapped her hands onto the dirty granite and pushed herself up, ignoring the pangs in her ankle. As she rose, she pulled her bag onto her shoulder and then yanked her skirt down, trying to ignore all the eyes that were on her. Limping, she reached the stairs and then turned to the left, heading toward the clear doors that, at that moment, seemed to Laura like the gates of heaven. The door swung open when she pressed her side into it, causing her to be bathed with white light. I'm out, she thought, I'm free. She searched for Jay's car.

“Laura!” Ricky shouted.

She saw him waving his hand in the passenger's seat of Jay's car, which had already been backed out of the parking space. There was no hiding her limp as she traveled across the sidewalk, between the parked cars, toward Jay's car.

Ricky's eyes darted toward her ankle. “Baby, what happened?”

She didn't say anything as she yanked open the car door and slipped inside. There was no stopping the tears from exploding out of her eyes.

“Hey, hey,” Ricky said, reaching to pat Laura on the back.

She wiped her face with her lipstick-stained hand and then sniffled.

“What are ya cryin' for?” Jay asked.

“Let's just go. I wanna go.”

“We're not going anywhere till you tell us what's wrong,” Ricky said.

“Rick, that's a little harsh. We can go, Laura.”

“What happened to your ankle?” Ricky asked.

“I fell, that's all. I fell in the hallway and everybody saw.”

“You ought to see a doctor about that ankle,” Jay said.

At that moment the least of her worries was whether or not her ankle was fractured. She felt the weight of her memory grow heavier and heavier, like a planet was forming inside her.

“I wanna tell you two something.”

“What?” Ricky asked.

“In the bathroom I saw this janitor who used to work at the middle school. His name's . . . his name's . . . Tommy.”

“Oh, hey, I remember him,” Ricky said. “Nice guy. Used to say hi to me.”

Her throat closed. Instead of words escaping her mouth, more tears escaped her eyes.

“Whoa, whoa. He do somethin' to you?”

“No,” Laura said, looking at her thighs. “I'm just still embarrassed about what happened.”

“I'm gonna start driving,” Ricky said, pressing the gas pedal and then turning to Ricky and flashing a grin.

“So . . . so you wanna go to my house?” Laura asked.

“Yeah,” Ricky said.

“Remember how to get there?”

“Oh, I remember,” he said.

On the short drive back to her house, Laura looked out the window and tried shoving out every thought of Tommy that entered her head. But the goddamn hurt that had plagued her till she finally got out of that wretched middle school was rising up again, like a gargantuan tsunami wave. Fleeting thoughts about dropping out of school and running away entered her mind. But she had no where to go, and no money to take her there even if she did.

Ricky pulled into the driveway of her secluded, two-story wooden house.

Straight-faced, Laura opened the car door and stepped out. Immediately she took off her heels and started limping toward her front door.

Flatly, she asked, “What do you wanna do, anyway?”

Ricky and Jay glanced at each other. “I'unno,” Ricky said.

“Got any drinks?” Jay asked.

“There's some wine, I think,” Laura said, digging through her bag for her keys.

“Takes forever to get drunk on that s**t,” Ricky said. “What about something stronger?”

She couldn't find the keys in any of her pockets.

“Um . . .” Laura said, feeling uneasy. “There might be some whiskey that my dad never"s**t. I lost my keys!”

“What?” Ricky said, furrowing his bushy eyebrows.

“Yeah, they must've flown out of my purse when I fell in the hallway.”

“Well, we can't get back now,” Ricky said.

“What else can we do?” Laura asked.

Jay walked farther to the right and then peered around the house.

“What about that forest back there?” Jay said, looking at Ricky.

“Well, what about it?” Laura asked.

“Let's check it out,” Ricky said.

“There's nothing to do in there,” she said.

“I've got some cigs,” Ricky said, pulling a pack out of his back pocket. “Let's smoke 'em in there.”

“Well, all right . . .” Laura said, and then they began walking across the leaf-littered front lawn to reach the forest.

As soon as they stepped in the forest, Laura felt immersed in nostalgia. This was where she spent her childhood. But she hadn't been in that forest in a year, not since she'd figured out how to enjoy attention from guys like Ricky and Jay.

After Ricky passed her a Newport, Laura dropped her heels on the ground and slid the cigarette between her lips.

“Oh, s**t. Jay, you got a lighter?” Ricky asked.

“Got you covered,” Jay said, sliding out a green lighter from his pocket.

He lit all three of their cigarettes, and as soon as they inhaled, the tips turned into little red stars. Laura held in the smoke for as long as she could. When she finally released it, the smoke reminded her of the fog that rolled in on the day of the incident, and swallowed her completely, making her feel safe, and whole.

Laura felt her mind spark from the nicotine.

“Hey, baby,” Ricky said to Laura, “lemme shotgun you.”

He took a hit from the cigarette and then leaned toward Laura with a closed mouth. When Laura opened her mouth, Ricky blew the smoke in, after which she inhaled, held it for a bit and then exhaled. After traversing the air like a snake, it dissipated.

Suddenly Ricky rammed his lips against Laura's. He shoved his tongue in her mouth and began to swivel it around hers. Both of them dropped their cigarettes. After pushing her against a nearby tree, he grabbed her breast and squeezed. Then he reached for the bottom of her ruffled green shirt and yanked it up. Laura pulled her head away.
“Stop! Jay's here!” she screamed.

Ricky didn't say anything back. He pulled her shirt up higher and then stuck his hand underneath her bra.

Not again, Laura thought. Please, not again.

“Ricky, stop!” she said, her fist against his chest. “Stop, please!”

Laura tried to lift her knee and ram it into Ricky's balls, but his legs were pressed against hers, pinning her to the tree.

Why me? Why does this have to happen to me? She heard the ba bump, ba bump, ba bump of her heart, and could feel it ramming against her chest, which Ricky was still violating. I trusted you. I trusted you and this is what I get. He tried to kiss her again, but she only moved her head further to the side. Laura saw, in the inner forest, the stirrings of fog, and it was approaching quickly.

“Help! Jay, help me!” she screamed, completely desperate, afraid, and overwhelmed.

But Jay did nothing.

Ricky put his wretched hands on the sides of Laura's pencil skirt and tried lifting it up.

“No!” she screamed, feeling like his hands were fire, charring her skin. She pushed his chest with all her strength, but he wouldn't budge, and only continued to push up her skirt. Not knowing what else to do, she flung her arm up and then started running her nails along the side of his face. His skin bundled beneath her fingernails. 

After she glimpsed the fury in his eyes, Ricky grabbed her bare waist and flung her to the ground, causing the leaves to rustle beneath her. Pain flooded her back. Before she could roll over, Jay rushed toward her and pinned her arms to the ground.

“Hurry! Do it!” Jay said.

His words were acid. Laura screamed and tried to kick Ricky as bent down, but missed him each time, so he tore off her underwear and got on top of her. Fear consumed her; it felt like the only emotion in existence.

With all her strength, she tried to escape them, but it was no use, they were too strong; she had no way out. She sucked in air, feeling like her heart was falling to pieces. Please don't, please just stop.

As Laura continuing trying to wrench from Jay's grasp, she saw, above her, the fog.

To Laura's disbelief, she suddenly felt Jay's hands loosen, and then heard a thump from behind her. Before Ricky had his pants unzipped, he darted his head up and widened his eyes.

“Jay!” he yelled.

Then Ricky's eyelids began to droop, and finally he collapsed on top of her, knocking the wind out of her. His whole body was limp. What the hell? she thought, feeling a potent mixture of relief and confusion. Laura struggled to free herself, and, cringing, she managed to slide out from underneath him. She stood up, shaking all over, and then stared at the two unconscious bodies at her feet.

Everywhere around her, the fog--which she now felt immensely grateful for--lurked. 

“Join us,” an otherworldly and melodious voice whispered, and it seemed to come from every direction.

Instead of fear, Laura felt . . . wonder. When was the last time that she felt that?

Laura heard something on the ground, so she looked down again; and what she saw was unbelievable.

Innumerable roots rose up from the ground like brown tentacles and then flung themselves over Ricky and Jay's bodies. After covering them completely, the roots pressed down, and the shapes of their bodies began to flatten. Slowly, the boys sunk underneath the ground.

That is what you deserve, she thought.

Upon looking up again, Laura observed the graceful fog swimming through the forest, which, at that moment, seemed like the most beautiful thing in the world.

“Take me,” she said.

And suddenly, Laura felt her body grow very light . . . and her arms were simply fading away as the seconds went by, like memories. In the final moments, all that was left of her was a dimly colored silhouette, the brightest part being her lipsticked smile.

Then she was gone.

Author's Note

Any suggestions are appreciated!