16: Carried Away

I wiped the tears away, and scrambled into the car before Aunt Tracy could come out of the house. I was surprised that she could still hear anything. 

“Hey! Ida! Are you OK?”

“Yeah, Juliet. Jesus, are you always walking around the block?”

“Ha! It’s one of the only things to do around here. Though it’s too far to walk all the way into the main city, so I stay here and walk around. Sometimes I help some people that live around here. Where are you going?”

“To meet a friend in Shoreville.”

“Really? Cool.”

“Yeah, I guess.” 

I gripped my thigh while I spoke to her.

“Yeah. Well, I better get home,” she said, as she eyed my legs. I limped into the car.

“Well, bye, Juliet!”

“Bye, Ida! Have fun in Shoreville!”

“Thanks!”

I felt the depression sinking into me like a lead brick. It nearly hurt. I wanted to curl up into a ball. Curl up into the darkness. Into nothingness. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to leave and never see another human being again. 

Tears began to form in my eyes, and I had to brush them away yet again. I wanted to jump off of a cliff. I was so wrong about my family, it made me want death more than ever. How could I have been so wrong about the both of them? How could I have been so stupid? 

I felt down for my stomach, and rubbed it. My belly was extended like a pregnant woman’s. Disgusting. Just before Austin had called, I went into the kitchen, and I ate. I ate, and ate, and ate. I’d forgotten how good eating felt after crying yourself to sleep. I’d forgotten how almost numbing it was. Especially after a bad realization, or a breakup. 

I started the car, and drove down the street, waving at Juliet as I passed her.

Back in New York, I used to have Lance. He was the one person I had sworn had loved me. Though, he himself was a roller coaster ride inside the roller coaster of life, and roller coasters all end, eventually.

“Ida, I love you.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t you love me?”

“I guess.”

“Then come on, let’s do this, I’m ready, and you said you loved me.”

“Lance, I’m not sure-”

“Ida! God-d****t! You always do this! No! Come on, let’s do this.”

“I...I guess... I’m not sure.”

He pulled himself out of the bed and grabbed me by the shirt. He reeked of illegal substances. I started to breathe heavily.

“Come on, get that shirt off, and those pants. Come on.”

“No! Lance... I’m not sure...”

“Shut up. Listen, I love you. You love me don’t you?”

“Yes!”

“Liar.”

“What? Lance, you know I love you!”

“If you loved me, you would do this. This is a sign of love. You don’t love me.”

“Lance... I love you.”

“No.”

I slowly slid off my shirt, and pulled down my shorts. A single tear dripped down my face. He took me by the hand, and slowly led me toward the bed.

My hands gripped the steering wheel hard, so that the skin on my knuckles was thin like paper and white without blood. I swallowed down a cry, and repressed it inside of me. That memory was a memory I had forgotten. It wasn’t a good memory, so I had no use of needing it. Yet, there were other memories that were worse, and yet I kept them. I wasn’t sure why, they were simply unescapable.  Many of them were that way, and a lot of them involved my father. They were probably things that I would never escape .They were things that I would pick up and take with my on my way. I didn’t want them, but they stuck, and I couldn’t shake them off. They were like a chronic illness.

My pocket started to vibrate, and I pulled out my aunt’s phone. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Ida?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you been to Shoreville before?”

“No. I’ve been in Saco. And this place about thirty minutes south of Saco. Actually, I’m nearing there now.”

“OK. Well, it’s not a big town. Just drive to the beach. Go to the parking lot by the big DHS sign.”

“DHS?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“OK.”

“Black hair, shaved on the side. Blue eyes.”

“Brown dreads, blonde eyebrows.”

“OK.”

“OK, I’ll see you in about a half an hour?” 

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

I slid it carefully into my pocket, and stared blankly at the lighthouse as it passed. The sun stood opposite of it, and spread light across, leaving a magnificent shadow in the water. To my right, thousands of miles of land stretched vastly across, all the way to the other edge of North America. I stared back ahead, and drove. And drove.

What was I doing? Was I really about to meet this stranger? Would it be worth it? I 

looked solemnly back onto my past. Was anything I did really worth it? I was just going to go through life, then die. Was it worth it? Or would it be better to drive the car into the ocean this very moment, and never even meet Austin? The cuts on my leg burned in searing pain, as did my brain, and also my heart. 

They all screamed for different things, and I realized I was being quartered by abstract objects. Death, life, the past, and the future. Death was so sweet. Just a drop sounded like the most beautiful thing on earth. Life was fun at times, when you weren’t an Austin, and you actually lived it instead of being stuck in the stupid cycle. My cuts screamed that I was alive, but my emotional state proclaimed me dead. I was as lifeless as death now, and I wasn’t sure which of the opposite directions to go. The past pulled me back, and clung on to me. It screamed with the same tone as death, and drug me in that direction. A future was always promising, in some way. Austin was waiting in the future and in life. My mother was waiting in the past and in death. I realized I was stuck somewhere in-between, and maybe the idea of death wasn’t so warming. Maybe the idea of life was more warming than I thought.

Did history repeat itself? If so, death would be sounding swell. If history repeated itself, then the past screamed out a bad future, and maybe even more death. Yet a death now meant no knowing what came next, and what was around the corner, and a past meant learning from your mistakes, and that meant not making the same mistakes again. Repeated history screamed bad, but learning from the past screamed good.

The future was always a mystery. It was always something hidden, and it was always something that seemed worth getting to, just to see what it held.

            In my head, I made a silent note. I chose the future. I chose a life. Even if it was bad, maybe it would just be worth getting to.

Then another thought came to me. My scars. I looked down my pants, and imagined the cuts in my mind. They were all scarring. And I could remember every single one of them, and what they meant. They were memories. Horrible memories. Yet, at the same time, they were the past, and that meant learning from your mistakes. That meant that they were themselves a lesson. In the literal sense, scars were lessons, and also in the figurative. 

I mysterious smile crossed my lips as I tried to imagine Austin in my mind. Hair shaved at the side. That was something I wanted to see. A close person from New York had done their hair like that once, but then she shaved the rest off when her mother saw it. 

Suddenly, a sign passed my right that read “Shoreville,” and I looked at the population. This was a dead-end town, I could nearly sense it. Austin was probably some creep. Yet I drove on, and I drove on the street closest to the beach, looking into each shop as I passed. Many were replicas, minus the name printed above the door. A couple holding hands, about five kids, and three singles were roaming around, but other than that the place was dead. 

I looked up at the sky, and a big sign that read “DHS” loomed over me, and I knew I was here. A small parking lot was across the street by it, on the beach. I pulled in, and picked one of the many empty parking spaces. 

It was empty. No Austin. No anyone. I rubbed my eyes, and suddenly, I was tired. I tear dripped down my face. I began to think of my mother. The poor girl. Soon my slight tears grew into large sobs, and I found myself shaking under them. A knock sounded on the window, and I wiped my eyes to stare up.

Grasping for the handle and opening the door, I yelled, “Austin!”

“Hi.”

I smiled a little, despite the tears still forming in my eyes.

“Hi. I like your hair.”

He was silent for a while, and stood staring at me.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I just... I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Everything.”

“Come on, let’s go this way.”

He led me onto the sand, and we moved across toward a pile of rocks with a path formed, traveling into the woods. 

“So, I guess everything’s just a lie.”

“A lie? When you were on the phone... I got sort-of scared.”

I looked up into his deep blue eyes. They were crystalline-like in appearance. Austin was a little cute, in fact.

“Yeah. I was scared, too. I don’t know.”

“What happened?”

We were stepping over rock after rock. I noticed his shoes were missing. I wobbled a little, and he took my hand to balance me. Eventually, we were in the woods, and climbing a hill onto a cliff that overlooked the ocean. We sat down at the highest point of the cliff.

“It’s beautiful up here.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“My aunt was talking to me earlier.”

“Yeah?”

“Aunt Tracy. She’s the one I’m living with because my dad killed my aunt. And my mom died when she was fifteen.”

“Right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. 

Even though I was only meeting some guy, I thought it would feel a little more momentous. Yet this was just like another day.

“Well, my dad and mom... I didn’t know...”

“What? Didn’t know what?”

“They were love! In love! Then out-of. Over me, I think. I killed her.”

“Ida, that’s crazy. I just met you, but that’s crazy!”

“It is not. She killed herself because I was born. Then my dad went to jail for a while. That’s why I’m staying with my aunt. It’s all because of myself. Why did I have to be the fastest sperm?”

Austin checked his phone.

“That’s weird.”

“What?”

“I’ve got a voicemail.”

“Oh?” I responded, not really interested in the message, but more interested in continuing with my story.

“Yeah. It’s from DHS.”

“Is it?”

I sat up straight.

“Yeah. Here. Let me just put it on speaker.”

Pressing the button, a monotone came on mid-sentence.

“-appreciate your time with us here at DHS, and also our new voicemail feature, that is only active in the area’s that you have previously called. This will allow those who are too afraid of another human hearing their problems to just simply leave a message. We are hoping this will create a new form of stranger-therapy that is relative to writing a note, and then never sending it. It simply gets the message out. Ev-”

“S**t! Whoops, dropped my phone.”

He picked it up, just as a high-pitched noise, almost like a Juliet scream. Then, a voice started.

“Uh... hi, whoever you are. I just... I’m calling... My name’s Brett...”

The silence that followed was a long one, so long that Austin almost stopped the voicemail under the impression that that was all that was there.

“I’m calling because, well, I just hate things. I mean, God! Damn father! It’s like every little thing is like my mother! He just can’t accept thing! She was fucked up, yeah, I’ll admit it. Then she left him, and I know they both deserved it. But now, everything that I do that’s different is a f*****g disorder! Like today, for instance, I had to eat supper twice so he wouldn’t think I was suffering from anorexia! It’s not my fault I’m skinny! God f**k everything! He looks on my arms for cuts every night, I can tell! I see his eyes! He makes sure I’m gaining weight- do you know how hard it is for me to gain weight?! You don’t have any idea, and neither does he! I hate everything! 

“I’m f*****g fourteen! I’m only fourteen years old! And he’s checking me for mental disorders! I’m not like my mother! He can’t get that! Just because I’m a different person, and just because I’m different, I’ve got cyclothymia, anorexia, and f*****g everything else! No! No! No! I’m only fourteen, and I don’t want to be going through this!” A choked sob escaped from the speaker.

“I swear, if I don’t have any disorders already, I certainly will once this is over and done. This is bullshit. I don’t want to be going through this! I’m too young! And I have to sit here and avoid and lie to him just to make it through going to a goddamn therapist or a damn asylum! Or whatever...! I’ve gotta go. He’s calling me. Probably a f*****g depression check.”

The line went dead. We both stared at the speaker as if it was some foreign object. The kid had been the angriest of anyone yet. Austin’s breathing was heavy, and he slowly leaned over, and wrapped his arm around me, and I rested my head on his shoulder. We sat, looking out at the ocean in complete silence.

The shock of the acute anger and frustration was almost like a silencer, peircing though the earth and murdering it. It was a silent killer of all words. Suddenly, things were almost too quiet. 

A wrapped my arm around him, and buried my head deeper near his chest. We leaned back onto the grass together, and laid looking up at the clouds. At least, he was. I was staring up at his chin. 

The poor boy called Brett must have been having a hard time. I never knew what it was to have an accusing father like that, but I did know some about abusing, and though he didn’t think I was psycho, I thought him so. My dad didn’t need liquor. He didn’t need a jail, even. He needed an asylum, and a good source of mental help. 

My heart began to beat fast as I thought of an idea. I swore Austin could feel or hear it beating, because he put his hand on my head, and told me to relax. I leaned up, and kissed his cheek. Then, he pulled me up, and kissed back. His arms wrapped around my lower waist, and mine were in his strangely cut hair. 

I giggled a little as he led me into his room. The lights were off, and we stood in the center, holding onto each other. His lips found my lips, and his hands found my hands. I took them, held them up, and wrapped them around me. 

“Come on,” I giggled, pushing a tangle of hair out of my face, “let’s go lay down.”

I turned my phone on, and used it as a light. He led me to the bed, and I pushed him onto it. A grin escaped from my lips as I straddled over him, and kissed down his neck. My hands felt to his waist, and began to lift his shirt up over his head. I took a break to take my own top off. 

I could tell he wasn’t as familiar with this as I was. Slowly, I began to turn him over, so he was on the top. He kissed all down my neck, and then back up. His hands felt around to my back, and suddenly, my bra was off. I didn’t expect him to try anything, because I could tell his mild-manneredness was extreme, and I figured he would be too afraid to take anything off of me. Yet, he did, and now my chest was bare. 

My hands traveled down to his waist again, tickling the whole way down. He pulled my hair back as he sucked onto my neck. I pulled down his pants, and threw them aside. Suddenly, he stopped sucking. I bit my lip, and pulled myself close to him, begging for more.

“What’s wrong?”

“I... I’m not sure.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Oh, come on, now you sound like Cliff.”

“What’s wrong.”

“I just met you! I mean, this is crazy!”

“I don’t care! Come on, live a little! You said you were stuck in a cycle, right?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then get out of it.”

I pulled my shorts off, and now we were both clothed in nothing but a single article of clothing. I grabbed him by the rear, and pulled his pelvis close to mine. He began to kiss along my cheek, and fondled my breasts. 

This was such a strange thing to be happening. Yet I knew things wouldn’t end like they did with Lance. Lance was different. He was a user. I knew Austin would never do that to me, so I felt safe. If anything, it was Austin that should have been worried, and I was sure he knew it. Yet he continued to kiss me, even as I pulled down his underwear. 

“Oh, Austin.”

“Ida.”

“Come on, seriously, I’m ready. You’ve got... you know?”

“Condoms?”

“Yeah.”

“Hold on.”

He pulled himself off of me, and fumbled around until he found a flashlight. He turned it on, and searched until he found his underwear and shorts. He began to search in a desk drawer, and then another, and another.

“Come on, Austin, hurry.”

“I am, just hold on, I-”

Suddenly, the door swung open, and the light turned on. I covered myself with the comforter, and my face began to fill with blood and turn red. 

“This must be Cliff,” I thought.

“Oh, s**t. Sorry,” he said, as he closed the door, and backed out of the room.

I looked up at Austin. If his face was that color, my face must have seemed clown-white against it. He stared silently at the door, with his mouth open. I put my hands on my head, and awkwardly sunk back into the bed. 

My roller coaster hit an obstacle, and became obstructed. Now, I didn’t even want Austin in the same room. Now, I didn’t even want to be in Shoreville. I felt like my roller coaster was taking a dramatic downward plunge. I reached for my clothes, and slowly began to dress myself again. 

It took a moment to sink in, but I realized exactly what had happened. I had been carried away. Now that I looked at Austin, I realized just how much I didn’t want him. It was just circumstance. 

Was that all it was? Circumstance. I’ll bet under circumstances, different ones, my father would not have killed my aunt. I bet under circumstances, my father would not have made me a human being. And all these circumstance had no idea of what would come out of it, because it was all unintentional. Under the circumstances, I had become carried away. I had let the circumstance overtake me, and lead me to a bed. 

I found myself thinking about what a dumbass I had been. I ripped the bed away from me and stood up, unfortunately, because Austin looked over, and I found him staring at my thigh. Deep and blackening cuts were still raised and red. I shook in frustration and embarrassment, and I grabbed my clothes, and I ran away. 

As my coaster crashed, I decided to run from the wreckage. I’d run away to my car, and then back to Saco. I felt my face grow red as I did my best to put my shirt and shorts back on. The bra was still in my hands as ran down the street toward the beach. Toward my car. Toward Saco, and away from Austin, away from Cliff, and away from the wreckage.