The Kingdom of Light

Chapter 3

I looked at the house in front of me. A small rowhouse. It was whitewashed and had a red roof, and it looked like every other house here. My backpack weighed on my bag, the one I always brought with me to work, the one with all of my electronics in it, and my suitcase in hand. It felt heavier than anything I had ever carried before.

He had cheated on me with my best friend. Just the thought of it made me want to vomit all over the place. I couldn’t help but wonder how long they had been doing it. Pull yourself together! No job, no roof over my head, and nowhere to go, besides my mother.

The small front yard was already in full bloom. Flowers, herbs, and vegetables. My mother had green thumbs like no one else, and it annoyed the crap out of me. I wasn’t able to grow anything like her. Even here, in the darkness, her garden stood out among the others, which had the same conditions for growth as she had.

With the suitcase at my heels, I walked up the paved line towards the white front door. My head was tender, and my thoughts swam around in my head. What was my next step supposed to be? Where did I belong? Can you even trust people? Tired, I lifted my hand; the sound of the doorbell was insufferable. You could hear it ringing throughout the entire house, and immediately her voice floated through it, echoing right behind the ringing.

I turned around, deciding to yet again look up towards the stars. They were shining so brightly, like they knew exactly what they were supposed to do. Help me. A silent prayer, a small beg. Sent up to something I knew couldn’t help me. Help me.

The door opened behind me. “Who’s-” I turned around, looking my mother straight in the eyes. “Luna,” she whispered at me, like we were in the middle of a daytime drama. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes slide from me down to my suitcase, and then it happened, the eyes I knew I would receive. I knew it.

“Can I stay here for a while?” I asked, knowing what her answer would be, which was also why I was here.

“Of course,” she said, stepping aside so that I could get in. “What happened?”

I left the suitcase in the hallway and continued further into the house. I went by her bedroom, past the door into the bathroom. The living room was the last in the hallway, so I opened the door and went inside, into the room that looked so much like my childhood living room but still so different.

“I asked you something, Luna.”

“Not tonight, okay, Mom?” I turned towards her, seeing her standing with her arms crossed over her chest. “You’ll get all the details tomorrow,” I tried, while I gave her the thinnest smile I could muster. “Do you have any alcohol?”

My mother was definitely a beautiful woman. She had the same blond hair as I, but hers was completely short and always put neatly into place—just not at crap o’clock at night. She stood in her sun colored robe and wore her flippers. Her body had an amazing pear shape with broad hips.

She sighed as a response, rolling her eyes at me. “Look in the fridge and in the corner cabinet,” she answered, before she turned around and opened the door to her bedroom. “Good night,” she mumbled, before she disappeared into the room, closing the door behind her.

The switch gave a click as I turned on the light in the living room. The living room I had spent so much of my childhood. The living room, which in principle looked exactly like itself, while everything was still different. The coffee table still stood in the same spot, but the TV had gone from a box to a flat screen. The couch had been humongous, taking up most of the space, a couch that didn’t fit in with the screaming blue color that none of the other furniture had, had been replaced with a two-person couch in a dull gray color. The laundry rack still stood behind the couch, though, but it wasn’t the same kind of clothes hanging on it as when I was a child. The dining room table had gotten smaller, and the chairs had gotten fancier and more expensive.

I moved through the room, making my way to the kitchen. In the fridge stood a bottle of rosé, unopened. I took it underneath my arm while I moved across the kitchen to get a glass. The first one I grabbed was a regular water glass. Who cares? Not me, it seemed.

I went back through the living room and opened the door to the terrace outside. I plopped down in one of the chairs, opened the bottle, and filled the glass completely. With my back against the chair, I threw my feet up on the chair in front of me. My cigarettes came out of my pocket, and I quickly placed one between my lips. When I grabbed my lighter, I could see my hand shaking, shaking more than a vibrator on full goddamn speed.

Finally, I was able to light up my cigarette, and I dropped the lighter onto the table. My shaking hand was grabbing the glass of wine, as I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate once again. I took down a gulp, and then another, and then another.

Tears started to prickle my eyes again, and this time I didn’t care; this time I let them fall. I took a drag from my cigarette, which truly just made me cough. The sobs started to wreck my body. My body shivering from everything, from the drop of adrenaline, from the cold surrounding me. Why me?

I couldn’t cope with this day. How can all of this happen to me?

I couldn’t handle it anymore. Why did all of this happen to me?

I couldn’t live like this anymore. Why can’t it just all go smoothly?

I couldn’t stand it anymore. Why can’t I be happy?

Yet another sound left my lips, one I hadn’t thought would come. Another scream left my lungs. My cheeks were completely wet, my t-shirt drenched, and the glass became slippery in my hand. Automatically, I put it down on the table. I tried standing up, but my legs wouldn’t listen to my brain. I tried drying the tears from my cheeks, but my arms wouldn’t listen either. My body had shut down completely.

Help me.

No matter what, it couldn’t get any worse than it was.

Save me.

No matter what, I couldn’t be hurt any more than I was right now.

Kill me.

**

I woke up in the lawn chair the next day. The birds were chirping. The sun was shining through a few clouds. The neighbors were talking on the other side of the hedge. Idyllic suburban coziness on a Sunday morning. But I couldn’t handle it. Happy people aren’t realists. At least my brain was as negative as the rest of me was.

I pulled my body from the chair with a loud groan. I hadn’t been just an ounce comfortable. My back was trashed, my legs were stiff, and my shirt was moist after the dew.

Inside, my mother sat ready, coffee made, breakfast put out, and her game face on. “Good morning, did you sleep well?” Her voice was bright, but still firm. She wanted answers, and I might as well give them to her, because she wouldn’t relent until she had them.

“I slept like s**t,” I muttered honestly, before I dumped down in front of her.

My coffee cup was filled quickly, the black liquid looking like a goddamn lifejacket. It turned into a muddy brown color as I filled it with milk as well. I took a sip immediately—the milk cooled it down for me. As if it gave me a shot of life, I instantly felt just a tiny bit better.

“It’s time to talk, Missy,” she said, leaning back and crossing her arms across her chest once again. Her gaze was hard and firm; there was no dodging her this time.

I sighed, feeling my entire body starting to soften up after the bad sleep position. “From the top?”

Her clear blue eyes searched my face, like she was trying to suck the information right out of me—or worse, like she could read my mind. “From the top, and all of it!” she demanded.

“We were mugged yesterday,” I started, taking a small sip of coffee to let her digest the information. “I stood alone behind the bar, and suddenly, three men came in, one of them had a gun, and they wanted all of the money in the register.” Her eyes got wide, her jaw falling onto her chest. “The police came, but I couldn’t really help them with anything, since I didn’t see much, just trying to survive.” I grabbed an apple from the fruit plate. “So I handed over my keys yesterday, and now I’m without a job.” I stopped talking, taking a bite out of the apple. “When I got home, I found Lucas and Carol,” my eyes landed on her again, “together, naked in my bed.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she almost whispered.

“So I packed my stuff, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

“So, Lucas and Carol are a thing now?”

Of course, that would be where her focus was. “I don’t know,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “I didn’t exactly ask about their plans.”

She nodded thoughtfully while she grabbed her own coffee cup and took a sip. Satisfied with the information, she didn’t really need to ask any more questions, which made it possible for me to eat my breakfast in peace and quiet, without having to be on guard.

“Ireland!” I nearly jumped out of my chair when she suddenly yelled. “You’re still going to Ireland, right?!”

“I don’t know, Mom, isn’t it utterly f*****g redundant right now?”

A wicked smile stretched across her lips, one I didn’t like one bit. “I could go with you.

No. No, no, no, no. f**k no.

“If I’m going,” I started, “I’m definitely not bringing my mother on what would have been a romantic getaway.” She had to understand that.

She leaned back, clearly disappointed. She didn’t speak anymore, not until she had to go to work.

“Bye,” she said, halfway into the living room. “I’ll see you later.”

“You sure will,” I answered her, sending her a half-hearted smile and a “have a nice day.”

My mother worked in a nursing home, where she helped the elderly get moving, and she made something happen in their lives. She basically always worked twelve-hour shifts on Sundays, since it paid a buttload of money. She disappeared out into the hallway, and soon the door closed behind her.

My attention snapped back to the TV, which was playing yet another episode of a horrible reality show. It was the kind of show where every single girl had big boobs and the guys looked like bodybuilders. They always fought over the smallest, most stupid things, making drama where no drama should live. But it delivered the perfect kind of numbness that I needed. It was something I could watch without having to think, just trying to follow through the conscious stream of thoughts flowing from the characters.

My phone vibrated yet again. I had stopped checking it a long time ago, because either it was Carol who was trying to apologize or trying to explain why it really was all my fault, or it was Lucas who was threatening to come and pick me up.

The only thing I had used my phone for was calling and ordering both a large pizza and some pasta for dinner. Both had to be doused in garlic, and of course, I was getting a s**t ton of dressing on the pizza as well. I could be gross now. Now I didn’t have to think about what I would look like naked, because no one was going to see it.

When the doorbell finally rang, I went to pick up my food, almost giddy about the fact that I was going to binge eat way too much. But it wasn’t the delivery guy, it wasn’t the guy I wanted to see the most.

“Luna, please listen-”

I slammed the door right in his face, and of course, I locked it immediately, effectively shutting Lucas out of the house.

“I was being stupid, okay?” He spoke loud enough for his voice to travel through the door. “I was too blind to see what I already had, please. Like, we got together really early, you know, and I thought I had to try something more, that I need to see-”

“So you decided to try out my best friend? Is that what you’re trying to say?” I called back, the rage starting to bubble inside of me again.

“Luna,” he sighed, almost sounding resigned, like he was already tired of this. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you; that wasn’t what I wanted.” My eyes rolled so hard, I almost got dizzy from the movement. “Let’s go to Ireland, huh? We can have a great time, we can bond, we can find each other again. We can forget all about this, please, Luna. We’re getting married for Christ’s sake.”

I ripped the door back up, needing to see his face. “You f*****g disgusting bastard scumbag cheating f*****g liar!” I screamed right into his face, feeling the heat rising in my body. “You can forget everything about going to Ireland! I f*****g paid for that trip, and I’m not bringing a f*****g cheater!”

And only like Lucas could, he sent me a smirk, which would normally make my panties fly off. “You said f*****g twice.” It was meant to be funny, meant for me to chuckle, meant for me to say Yeah, you’re right, throw myself on the ground, and spread my legs.

“Get out,” was the only response out of me, while I pointed back at the parking lot. “Get out of my life, leave me the f**k alone. I never want to talk to you, hear from you, or see you, ever again.”

It was almost like he got confused. Like he hadn’t thought I would actually stay mad at him. Like he had thought, he could just show up here, say a few words, and then I would forget and take him back. That I would pull him to me, hug him, and then spread my legs for him. Not in this lifetime.

“What about our getaway?” he asked, looking like a hurt puppy who didn’t get his way.

“It’s my getaway,” I answered through clenched teeth. “And if I see you there, I’ll cut off your balls. Do you understand?” A small thought entered my mind, a worry that I might be able to crack my teeth, with how hard I was clenching them. But I was certain in my decision; he would never be able to act like this ever again.

As if someone gave him an extra shot of confidence, he suddenly lifted his shoulders and straightened his back. “I don’t need you anyway,” he said, and then added, “you’re nothing but a moldy, shaggy, and disgusting cunt.” With that, he turned around and walked away.

Moldy, shaggy, and disgusting cunt.

What a line.