Clementine

A short story about a suicidally depressed woman who comes into contact with a reality-warping sorceress.

The end of the cigarette crawled steadily toward me. A low but constant wind blew dead ash off the glowing coal. The little gray flecks fell away into nothing. I exhaled a cloud of smoke. It too became nothing. After burning down to the filter, the coal chased after the smoke and ash into nothing.

I looked up at the night sky. The great big nothing above bore down on me. I shook under the weight of it, and nearly jumped right then and there. I gripped the ledge with both hands, dropping the spent butt into nothing. After a long deep breath, I checked the crumpled pack of cigarettes that stuck out of my back pocket. Four left. I pulled the next one and lit up.

My legs dangled over the edge of the seven-story apartment complex. I took a long drag and stared at the sidewalk. The concrete panels seemed to stare back. We watched each other until I could almost hear the ground calling to me. Dead girl, it seemed to say. Down here, dead girl.

Not yet, I told it. Not until I finish this pack.

I was halfway through the cigarette when I noticed the sound. At first it was a low rumble, barely distinguishable from the background noise of the city. Over time it grew louder, clearer. The roar of a car engine echoed through the block. A dark blur followed close behind. It was a black sports car speeding down the street. The car flashed like a strobe under the rows of streetlamps as it barreled on.

Suddenly, the car swerved. Tires screeched before it flipped into the air, tumbling down the road like paper in the wind. The front smashed against a parked car with a glassy, metallic crunch. Finally the crumpled heap skidded to a stop, upside-down and leaking black smoke.

The whole while I just sat there gawking. My trance broke when something small and rectangular fell toward the wreckage. I had dropped my cigarette.

Down below, the driver side door opened and a young woman rolled out onto the street. She was completely naked, bleeding from a dozen wounds, and laughing hysterically. The stray cigarette happened to land on her stomach, but she didn't seem to notice. The woman sat up, still chuckling to herself, and ran a hand through her flowing red hair. The cigarette rolled off and fell between her legs. The laughter stopped. She looked down at the cigarette, then up at me.

I stiffened. I could feel our eyes lock, even at this distance. I could feel the warmth in her gaze, too, but that didn't ease the tension. Maybe it was just stage fright. No one wants an audience when they're attempting suicide.

The woman disappeared. She was there and then she wasn't. I rubbed my eyes and blinked a few times. The wrecked car was still there and the woman was still gone. Then a voice came from behind me.

You dropped this, it said. I jumped at the sound, letting out a yelp and nearly falling to my death. The fear felt a bit silly after I regained my balance. I turned around. The woman stood there with cigarette in hand. She was immaculate. No blood, no wounds. Still naked, though. She took a puff of the cigarette, then flicked it at me.

I don't know why I tried to catch it. The cigarette flew over my head, and I almost killed myself again reaching out to grab it. The coal burned my palm when I caught it. I winced and let go. Then I realized that I'm an idiot. I turned my attention away from the regular everyday cigarette and back to the naked teleporting redhead on the roof.

Hi, she said. I rubbed my eyes again. She smiled innocently. I pinched myself. She was still there. I pinched myself again. She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. All I could say was, What?

The magic woman walked forward. Peering over the ledge, she asked, What are you up to?

I uh...

What's down there? Anything interesting?

I just stared at her, nonplussed. She looked at me and smirked. I almost said, What? Again, but then she pushed me off.

I don't know why I screamed, why I waved my arms in desperation. This is what I wanted. So what if I fell a bit early? So what if I started hallucinating beforehand? Regardless, I screamed and I flailed and I hit the ground. Then I kept screaming and flailing until I realized I was still alive. Then the pain kicked in and I cursed. Loudly.

The magic naked woman teleported again. She stepped casually into view. You dropped this, she said, holding up a half-smoked cigarette. I reached up with a frail, shaking hand, but the cigarette fell between my fingers. The woman picked it off the ground and put it between my lips. I coughed.

You're pretty clumsy, little Clementine, the woman said.

What?

I like my booze strong and brown, just like my men, she said with a bottle of dark rum in each hand. She winked at me and said, I bet you're the same way.

I don't drink.

A sea of unfamiliar faces flooded my apartment. Loud music shook the walls with the thump of each beat. A crowd gathered around the red-haired sorceress while she performed impossible party tricks. She swallowed a lit match, using a swig of rum as a chaser, then belched fire. She juggled six full cups of beer without spilling a drop. She bent backward so far that she could kiss her own a*s. The boys liked that one in particular.

I didn't see what she did next. I preferred to hide in my bedroom and cut myself. With a paring knife I drew three thin red lines reaching from wrist to elbow. By the time I finished the third cut, the other two had stopped bleeding. I grabbed an old shirt out of the laundry basket and wiped away the blood. The wounds were gone.

I opened the window and jumped out. I didn't scream this time. Didn't die, either. So I trudged up four flights of stairs and returned to the party.

A small team of artists were painting a tumultuous seascape on the sorceress's naked body when I entered. Her tits hid behind dark gray clouds and a tiny sailboat braved the treacherous waters above her belly button. She noticed me and her eyes lit up. She called out, Clementine! You're back!

My name isn't Clementine. I told her my name, but she never used it. She told me her name, but it sounded like nonsense. I couldn't pronounce it myself, no matter how many times she said it. It sounded less like a name and more like radio static, or two dogs growling at each other. I think it starts with a V.

I snagged a jug of bleach from the bathroom on my way to the bedroom. The paring knife waited patiently on the nightstand, the floor next to it dotted with tiny blood stains. I picked up the knife and drew four lines that disappeared almost immediately. I downed the bleach with a long chug, then climbed out the window and downed myself.

I threw up most of the bleach after I hit the ground. Not that it hurt my stomach. Nothing hurt anymore.

When I came back to my apartment, V was jiggling her belly so it looked like the sailboat was rocking up and down in the waves. She said, Now watch this, and squeezed her left b**b. A bolt of lightning shot down from her n****e and struck the poor little sailboat. The seafarer sunk into the rolling waves while everyone cheered. V's eyes met mine once more, beaming. I turned around and left.

My cigarettes also seemed to be immortal. One was slightly bent, but the other two were unscathed from the falls. Sitting on the front steps of the apartment complex, I pulled out the bent one and lit up. There was a faint taste of blood in the smoke.

A few minutes later, a line of party-goers filed out the front door with V at the end. She chugged a bottle of rum as she walked out, finishing with a loud belch. Everyone else walked off in seemingly random directions while V sat down next to me. She wasn't holding a bottle anymore. She must have disappeared it or something.

Well that was fun, she said.

Why can't I die?

V looked at me, bemused. She asked, Why would you want to do that?

Does it matter?

She considered for a moment. No, she said. No, I guess not.

I scoffed.

Are you sure you want to die?

I rubbed my forehead and muttered, I don't jump out of windows for fun.

Well, I just think that if you wanted to die then you would have died.

What? What the hell does that mean?

She just smiled politely with wide blank eyes, like the answer was so obvious that I had confused her by asking.

I stood in the kitchen drawing bloody flowers on my arm with the paring knife when V said, Look at me. I didn't want to, but she grabbed me by the chin. Something changed then. Her eyes were not eyes but long tunnels that stretched my sight. I felt like falling. I clenched my fists, trying to hold myself still.

Now turn, she said. I obeyed, and my kitchen counter and cupboards were replaced with sand and clear sky. I turned back to V. Calm waves lapped at her bare feet. She teleported me.

That's how you do it, she said.

I still didn't get it.

V spun around and walked into the sea. She glanced back at me as a wave crashed against her stomach. I looked down at my forearm. Healed, of course. I dropped the knife and turned, thinking about those tunnels in her eyes. Nothing happened. I turned again and again until I was facing V. She was underwater now, walking on unperturbed as ever. I sighed, and followed.

I breathed in a lungful of seawater as I slipped under the waves. Of course, I couldn't drown any more than I could bleed out or poison myself. Curious, I pulled out my pack of cigarettes. Two left. I put one to my lips and struck the flint of my lighter. The small flame burned miraculously, and I lit the cigarette. The saltwater gave the smoke a briny aftertaste.

Is God trying to teach me something? I asked. The words came out clearly, unimpeded by the surrounding water.

Huh?

Is that why I'm still alive? To learn some great lesson?

I thought we went over this.

Or am I already dead, and this is some kind of purgatory?

V turned and displayed her open palms defensively as she walked. I tried to look into her eyes again, to see the tunnels. It wasn't the same. V tripped on a rock, giggling as she tumbled through the water.

Whatever it is, I said, it's pointless. I've made up my mind. There's nothing here for me. Not in this life.

Well go ahead and die then, she said. I'm going to get eaten by a whale or something.

Then she swam away into nothing. I rolled my eyes and sat on the ocean floor, watching the coal burn down.

V eyed the pistol with disinterest, turning it over in her hand. This is boring, she said. Can't we do something else?

Do it again, I said. She sighed and ejected the empty magazine. The spent metal cases formed a small pile at her feet. A fresh magazine materialized in the pistol and V took aim.

Each shot rang loudly through the abandoned parking garage. I took a long puff of my last cigarette while hot lead pierced my chest. Gray smoke drifted out of the closing wounds. Stained bits of cloth fell into a pool of blood, the front of my shirt tattered into oblivion.

Do it again.

You are so single-minded, she said. I took one final drag before the coal fell and extinguished in the dark red puddle at my feet.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the dull thump of each bullet entering my chest. The feeling lessened with each shot until it faded into nothing. The loud banging of the pistol quickly followed into silent nothing. For a moment I was almost truly alone, surrounded only by the great big nothing. Its very presence taunted me. I wanted to ask why it made me, why it now refused me. But I knew what it would say, so I held my tongue.

A powerful numbness washed over me. When I opened my eyes I was sitting in my little puddle, clutching my chest and sobbing. Who knows why? No feeling means no pain. Though at this point I could just as easily ask why not. No reason is as good as any reason, right?

A hand touched my cheek.

I looked up. V was crouched in front of me. Her eyes traveled from my face down to the puddle and back to me, scanning. I unconsciously wiped my tears away. She kept looking me up and down. I was about to say, What? But then she spoke.

Oh, I get it, she said. Then she leaned in and planted her lips on mine.

I tried to push her away, but she grabbed me by the face and held firm. Something burned my lungs. Finally she let go, leaning back with a smug grin. I doubled over and coughed. A small cloud of gray smoke rose up into nothing.