The Flash

The wrinkles in my fingers are growing. Fingernails make excellent snacks. Sunglasses don’t shield stress. Clicking and tapping. Red, green, go. I’m late. Radio hums, I hear sunshine, I see breeze. I feel tight grips, rubber rips, breath slips. I wear metal teeth and scraps in my stomach.  Eyes leak gas and pulse pops, lips wet coughing crimson. Black, blue, bloody.

The hallway is long, dark. A dimly lit light illuminating a wooden door at the far end. I call out, lips moving, throat, air pulsing, but no sound. Frustrated screams escape in silence. I place my hand on the door, it’s cold. My fingertips trace the grooves in the face, then move slowly to the knob. I turn it and enter, but see no shadow.

It’s dark again, and the door shuts behind me, I hear the click. I stick out my hands, fingers curved, palms stretched out in front of me. I feel a wall, flat, smooth. My right hand trembles, gliding along the wall, my left lost somewhere in the dark. Light, light switch. Click.

I blink a few times, and wipe my eyes with shaky hands. I look at them, they don’t look like my hands. Cut up skin clipped, bent backwards, twisted and red. I bring the back of my hand to my mouth and wipe my bottom lip, still bleeding. I bring them to my face, some of the red smeared away, revealing the skin that hides beneath, I must be crying.

A black couch sits in the middle of the room surrounded by white walls. A side table to the right, VCR tapes stacked on top, maybe 5 or 6. I walk to to table, and realize I’m only wearing one shoe. My other shoe ripped and worn, I can’t tell which tears are new. Each tape has a date written on it, I look behind me and see a television, an old one, I doubt it’s even in color. I pick up the first tape, and put it in the slot, then take a seat on the couch. The machine clicks and whirrs, the screen goes from black, to static, to color. It plays.

The streamers blow in the wind but they’re behind her now she’s moving too fast. She’s flying. The girl looks back for Daddy’s hand that is no longer there, she’s on her own. She is air. She is wheels. She is the shade of the sycamore and the sap. Pink blue white bike, gripping handle bars with unsteady hands. Shaken, she falls. Bloody knees make her cry. He picks her up and holds her, Mommy at his side.

“It’s ok baby,” Daddy half chuckles. “You had it, you really had it.”

“You did so good!”, Mommy smiles. She kisses her.

“We should try it again! I know you can do it.” He wipes her tears with his thumb.

“Really Rob, I think she’s done for today.”, Mommy says.

“I just want to try one more time,” he says. “How ‘bout it?” He wipes another tear away and looks at her.

She nods reluctantly.

“Atta girl!” He kisses her cheek.

He picks the bike up off it’s side and calls her over. She looks at Mommy, who kisses her on the forehead and sends her on her way. Daddy sits her on the bike.

“Okay, I’m gonna hold you again, so don’t worry.” he says.

She nods. Lip quivering.

With a push, the wheels are turning. Her eyelashes flutter as the breeze hits her face. She moves faster, she looks back and Daddy’s far behind her. On her own again. The birds, the bees and the big sycamore tree, all cheer for the little girl who can fly.

The television muffles and the screen goes black. I see my reflection. Eyes swollen, almost shut. Before I can catch it, saltwater stings, lips busted. Mouth gaping, trembling hands trace my bloody mouth. I’m not a little girl anymore.

I look to my left, the door I came through is gone. It’s all white walls. I run to the where the door used to be and frantically run my hands over it, feeling for a gap, or a crack. Nothing. I start to push, palms against the wall, then back, I feel the frustration, pulsing I open my mouth to scream. I want to hear it, but still, silence. I’ve given up, sinking to my knees, head in hands, cut and crooked.

I remove the other tape from the VCR and place in the next.The machine clicks and whirrs, the screen goes from black, to static, to color. It plays.

“Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Madi. Happy birthday to you!”

She blows out the candles, one six. Her Dad kisses her forehead and she rolls her eyes and chuckles to herself.

“Really it’s not that big of a deal.” she laughs.

“Are you kiddin’ me! You’re really a young lady now!” Gramps says warmly. She always loved her Gramps.

“A beautiful little lady I might add.” Nana says as she places her arms around Gramps.

“Okay stop or I’m going to start crying again!” Mom says as she lifts the cake from the table. “Now who wants cake? Collin?”

“Yeah Mom,” he says barely looking up from his phone.

“Get off that and come help me cut this.” she scolds, fingers wrapped tightly around her hips.

“Ok, ok sorry.” He hurries to the kitchen.

“I get first piece!” the girl laughs.

“Oh yeah Mads, don’t worry it’s on its way.” Collin says with a smile. He creeps up behind her and smashes the slice in her face.

“Collin!” Everyone seems to yell in unison.

“Oh,” she wipes frosting from her eyes, “You’re going to get it!”

She jumped up from her seat and wrapped her arms around him before he could make a quick escape. Cheek to cheek she wiped her frosting on to his face, smothering him.

They all laughed, loud and hard.

I laughed until my stomach hurt. For a moment I forgot where I was, then I grabbed the third tape. The machine clicks and whirrs, the screen goes from black, to static, to color. It plays.

“Mads let's go, who are you going with?” he asked.

“I’ll ride with Michael.” she said as she ran towards the car. “See you there!” she called out.

The ride was long. The car reeked of marijuana and naivety. She counted the streetlights as the grew closer, but lost count after 26. Clicking and tapping. Red, green, go. She chewed on some more fingernails to pass time.

They piled out of the car, the air so crisp with each breath it cracked.

“It’s just up here,” he said. “Come on.” We all followed.

“This is kinda creepy isn’t it Mads?” Haley said softly. “Even with a big group of us.’’ She giggled, clearly drunk, stumbling over words and feet. She grabbed her hand.

The path they were on grew dark and narrow, tall grass surrounded them, dancing in the night air. The crickets told stories to the broken beer bottles and cigarettes scattered in the dirt and dust, of all the adventure and mischief that walked the path.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he slurred, “Welcome to heaven!”

She stepped around her friends so that she could see. They were up pretty high, streetlights stretched out at as far as she could see. Busy buildings, rooftop clubs, rainbow lights, bright and neon. Look at me, they said to her.

“Mads come hit this.” Stephen held the blunt out to her. “Good s**t.”, he inhaled.

“I think I’m gonna pass this time.” she practically whispered.

“Mm. C’mon Mads, live a little.”, he looked at her, enough light on his face for her to see his cheeky grin. She can’t help but smile back.

“Yeah Madi, please.. for me.” Haley winked, wrapped in Michael's arms. Now everyone was looking at her.

She walked towards Stephen and playfully snatched the blunt from his hands.

He caught her wrist, before she could turn to walk away. “Where do you think you’re going with that?” he laughed. All eyes were on them again.

She put the joint between her lips and inhaled slow, he watched and waited. She handed it back to him, and shivered.

“You cold?” he said concerned. “Come here.”

Her heart started to race, just a little. She leaned back to his chest, he wrapped his arms around her and she watched the stoplights change. Red, green, yellow. Red, green, yellow.

I couldn’t feel my fingers, but when I looked down I saw fresh blood and skin under my nails, red indents from digging into flesh. Knee bouncing, tap tap tap. I’m going crazy. I look over at the two tapes left. I grab the one on top, the machine clicks and whirrs, the screen goes from black, to static, to color. It plays.

The whole house drenched in a murky fog. Hard to breath. Hard to think. The music pounds, bass thumps thunderous warnings. She continues through the kitchen, young girls throwing up vodka and bad choices. Young boys high on marijuana, wandering hands make their way around but can’t seem to remember, they’re not sober.

“Mads!” Stephen yells from across the living room. She sees him on the couch. She smiles and makes her way over to him. Her friends follow.

“Whats up?” He pulls her in by her waist and sits her right next to him. She says hey to all his friends and looks up at him. He doesn’t look himself. Eyes bright red, bloodshot, half open half closes. That same cheeky smile, but this time it looks cold.

“Want me to make you a drink?” She doesn’t want a drink.

“Don’t worry, I got it.” She half smiles.

His face changed but she didn’t notice. She got up and went to the kitchen. She got some water from the fridge and took a sip. She talked with her friends for a while, and the whole time she could feel his eyes on her. Slips away without her friends, I’ll just be a second she says, just a second.

She knew he was following her. He likes you they said, that’s all. But when cornered her in the bathroom and told her to take her clothes off she was scared. When he looked at her, eyes cold, intoxicated, she felt sick. When she tried to push him away and he didn’t move, she grew angry. When she hit him, and he caught her wrist, she didn’t get butterflies. When he kissed her neck, covered her mouth, she wanted to hide. Dirty mirror fogged with breath, she studies it’s dirty hand prints. Stop. One, two three, toothbrushes. No. One bar of soap. Stop. Faucets running. Stop. Wasting water. No.

Yeah. He likes her. That's all.

I could taste tears running down my face. Hands trembling again. I can’t shut my mouth, struck frozen. I try to wipe my eyes. Head in hands I sit, and cry. I try to scream, I shake and yell. No one can hear me.

I pick up the last tape. The machine clicks and whirrs, the screen goes from black, to static, to color. It plays.

“Where are we going?” She laughs, his hands over her eyes.

“You’ll see!” he says. “Just relax, and don’t talk so much.” They both laugh.

“Matt, you know I’m afraid of heights!” She places her hands over his.

“Calm down! You’re going to love it.” He says, she can tell he’s smiling.  

He leads her up the hill until the ground is level, guiding her every step. Soon, she can feel the sand under her feet, and smell the salt in the air.

“Open.” he says. On a cliff, she sees the sunset, orange and pink, behind the clouds outlined in gold. She looks down past the blossoms to wear the waves crash against the rocks.

“Madi.” he looks at her. “So I figured this place is as good as any to ask you this question. From the moment we met, I knew you were the one for me. You know some people love someone because they make them a better person, but that's not why I love you. I love you because you’ve always just wanted me to be myself.”  Her eyes fill with tears, and a nervous laugh escapes her lips. Her finger tips tremble in the palms of his hands..

“Look,” his voice shakes, “I guarantee there’ll be tough times. I guarantee at some point one or both of us is gonna want to get out of this thing. But I also guarantee that if I don’t ask you to be mine, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” He’s down on one knee. “So.”

He fumbles the ring a little bit, but manages to recover. They both laugh.

“Madi, Will you marry me?” She covers her mouth and the tears leave trails down her cheeks that glisten what's left of the sunlight. She’s shining more than ever. She pulls him from his knees and places her lips to his softly, then says yes.

The television muffles and the screen goes black. No more tapes. The tears fall and this time I let them. I’m smiling. I look to my left, and see a door knob.