Outside Existence

She woke up shivering in her own sweat.    Her bedsheets dripped with perspiration, left in a tangled mess from her fitful nights’ sleep. The darkness danced before her eyes, making depictions of what she had just seen. She sat up and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. Her heart made her whole being vibrate with the passing of each sluggish second. Every one of her limbs shook and spasmed, getting ready to run again. She got up and went out into the kitchen. The cool floor of frozen tiles swept up and through her like a summer breeze with winter’s piercing sting. The lack of ability to see the clock told her it was still very early. She did not want to know what time it was. She wanted to go back to sleep, without dreams, without the horrors of her unconscious consciousness. She wanted to not be haunted. She wanted to go deaf. Simply to know the difference between the real voices and the voices that aren’t. She crouched down, hugged her knees and sobbed into her thighs. After a while, after her tears had become solid on her limbs, she got up and walked over the door, and walked out into the earliest hours of the morning. Her sweat froze into her skin. She let the bitter morning air consume her pale blue body and the sharp darkness devour her soul. She sat there for hours, attempting to wear out the power of the voices in the silent hours she had to spare. Eventually, she felt the sun come up and rushed back inside knowing her mother would be up soon.  “Astah, is that you?” Her mother asked from a doorway.               “Good morning, what are doing up so early?” Astah replied in the most normal, innocent way she could despite the dark voices that bustled through her head. “Just can’t sleep, early morning genes. What about you?”               “Well, you must have passed that gene on to me.” Astah said as a shiver trickled over her backbone. Her mother walked over and embraced her, thawing her intensely, reminding her what warmth felt like.     “Come on, let’s take the dog for a walk.” Her mother suggested.  ~  “Why do we need to learn this stuff again?” Asked Ru. “We need to learn this stuff, so we can have a decent-paying job, or so we can make a difference in the world.” Reminded Astah. Ru simply shook her head whilst smiling at her friends’ consistent reminding of how we can make a difference in the world in spite of its’ attempts to stay the same.    “Well, no matter what, I'm not going to use triangular numbers. And powers won’t matter when I become a photographer.” Input Ru.   “You’ve done pretty well without them so far.” Joked Kiana. “Why do I hear talking, girls?” Asked their substitute teacher Mrs Marty, not looking up from the notes left for her by their usual teacher, Miss. Couturier. They looked at each other and thought the exact same thing: ‘Because you have ears!’ and then burst into hysterical laughter, as though the joke was original. Mrs Marty looked up at them to give them a silent and utterly empty warning. It was good to be back at school, most would disagree. They would joke that S.C.H.O.O. L stood for Six Cruel Hours Of Our Lives. Astah thought of school as preparation for changing the world. It was her dream, to tamper with the fate of as many as she could. To be a part of their lives. When they were let out, Astah, Ru, Kiana and some of the guys came and got dibs on the corner of the school grounds. It was on a small hill right next to the river that ran through the school and had the shade of the trees. If you wanted the Corner, you had to be able to run or have someone who could hold a spot for you. Luckily, Astah, Ru and Kiana were some of the fastest in the school, and if they didn’t get there, they knew Leon would save the Corner for them. They got there before anyone else did, besides Leon of course. Although the other group wasn't far behind, so they sat down and bunched around the Corner so there was no way the other group could make their way in. Like any school, they had groups, maybe not labels, but they definitely had groups. When all of them had gotten a spot, the largest group came over, this group consisted of six girls and eight boys.               “Guys, come on. It’s our turn.” They pleaded from the base of the hill, they could see that the spot had been completely taken. It was difficult and more than slightly weird to try and step over, or more likely, on people to go and sit in a spot that would very likely be on top of someone else. The corner was packed like a collectors suitcase on their way back from a round-world trip.   “If we were to say that to you when got here first, would you let us have the Corner?” asked Leon. “Yes, we would!” Yelled a familiar voice. Astah remembered that tone, Hara was very annoyed, maybe even angry.  “I call bullshit!” Astah responded. Everyone on the hill laughed, even some on the ground sniggered. Many people knew that Hara was Arabic for “bullshit” and understood the reference. Hara fumed and gave Astah a glare that would’ve burnt a hole through most people, but not Astah. Not when Astah could look into Hara’s eyes and see all the memories they had shared and all the lies that Hara had told. “How is Jami?” Hara lashed out. This was a harsh, cruel reference. Hara should’ve just climbed up the hill and thrown Astah down, headfirst, it would have been less painful. “He said he would like you to seal your foul-smelling mouth.” Astah retaliated, pushing back just as hard. Jami was a complicated story. He was, at one point, both Astah’s best friend and biological twin, after he ran away, he was rarely mentioned by the few friends that knew of his existence and couldn’t be found anywhere. It was like he had never existed, there was no proof, except the chasm right through the middle of her heart. “What about a race, from one side of the field to the other, for your spot?” One of the stupider boys offered. Astah looked into the distance and pretended to consider the outcomes.                   “Mmm, no.” Astah said without a doubt in her decision.               “What, are you afraid?” Provoked Hara, sometimes this worked with others, particularly boys. It was a test to see if their egos were big enough to give up pride. The thing with Astah was that she let it go of her pride so freely, she simply added more to her inventory.               “If that’s what you want to call it, sure.” Astah was not falling into such an obvious trap of ridicule. After a while, Hara and her posse left and Astah and her friends were left to joke around. ~ Astah paced along the street, waiting impatiently for a dark blue Mazda to arrive. Hopefully, Quinn had actually cleaned the car this time. She said she would but, then again, how often does what Ru says, had to do with what he does? Astah found the answer quite quickly to be ‘no’. Ru started to sing. Her voice was beautiful and melodious, not as strong or trained as the other girls, but clear and light, like a steady, smooth stream.               “Oh, I don’t know why seasons change, Or how we fell so far, before our hearts go up in flames, Let’s go throwing stones and stealing cars, Sirens and smoke remind us, Maybe the world won’t find us, Fall to the earth in red light ‘til it’s gone” She sang like an ocean breeze: smooth, gentle, refreshing and calming. Her strikingly bright red hair swooped around her face and into her glasses. This was where she got her nickname  ‘Ru’ from, her Ruby Red hair. She brushed back her auburn fringe, doing nothing to stop the red flames of her hair from caressing her large, black, square-shaped glasses and stabbing her field of vision. Astah and Ru recognised a nearby honk and saw a short, burgundy headed Quinn sitting in the front seat.               “Come on, get in.” Quinn urged eagerly.               “What's going on at home?” Asked Ru, curious at Quinn’s unusual enthusiasm.               “You'll see.” A smile spread across Quinn’s face, imagining what his sister’s reaction would be when Astah found out. They drove along the pale orange, dusty gravel road lined with the paler, greyish, slim, smooth-trunked trees and wiry brush. Dull colours and thin shapes fled to and away from view. The car vibrated with the sound of the rare occasion of a song on the radio, mostly it played advertisements. Eventually, the shrubs and trees faded from view and were replaced with more occasional green, branchy trees that were ideal for climbing and green pastures on smooth hills. They kept driving until finally, they arrived home. The four-story tall house could be said to be a mansion or even a castle, but Astah preferred to call it a house that stretched to compensate for her brother’s ego. It glowed with life – despite its walls of stone – and giggled with the mischief of the secret that was being held captive within its walls. The house and the estate that came with it was simply an excessively large family heirloom. As Quinn stopped the car outside the entrance to allow Astah and Ru to let themselves inside. They walked into the native smell of spaghetti Bolognese and the sound squealing laughter. The first difference that Astah noticed was the increased amount of voices she heard coming from the kitchen. The second was that one of the voices was quite intimately known, very intimately known. The voices hushed once they became aware of Astah and Ru’s presence. Footsteps began, and the voices continued their conversation. He stepped out from around the corner, his broad tanned shoulders appearing first, then his head and face. His beautiful, pretty-boy, much-loved face. With curly light brown hair framing his face, and his eyes that were matched with so many of Astah’s memories and uncountable emotions. He stepped around the corner with a cute, nervously excited grin spread across his face, and his deep, rich brown eyes like the under-earth of the tropics of a jungle watered with a storm of anticipation. “Tristan!” She squealed dropping her bag instantly and, without hesitation, running full speed into his arms. “Missed you too, carida.” His breath caressed her neck and twirled around her hair, carrying his smooth, entrancing voice to the forefront of her mind, where it strangled all the power from her thoughts and conducted her heartbeat so it doubled its pace. “So, this is Tristan,” Ru exclaimed, for she had heard the name so many times and only had a description to link with. “You really didn’t exaggerate did you.” It wasn’t a question. He perfectly matched the description. Ru had thought that the lover's syndrome and the whole long-distance relationship had made Astah’s imagination work overtime. Ru had assumed that the tales of the warrior-like, fictional-sounding, movie-star descriptions were bent truths. They were not. “Trust me she did.” Tristan said, being modest. “No, ‘tall, dark and handsome’ was pretty accurate.” Ru teased. He had Brazilian-tan skin and a jawline that could make any girl melt. He wasn’t absurdly tall, only half a hand or so taller than Astah.               “Why are you here?” It wasn’t a special occasion as far as Astah knew.               “I got promoted, in the hospital, and they gave me some time off.” Tristan was so glad. He had gotten really tired of pushing beds around, and his family really loved seeing him, but they barely ever did because he worked so much, taking any shift he could. “So where are you guys staying?” Astah asked, oblivious to what Ru had said. “Here.” He said. “If that’s okay with you guys.” He said gesturing to Astah’s family, who didn’t really have the choice of saying no.  “Jewel! I haven’t seen you in ages! You’ve really gotten tall!” Astah said picking up Jewel with comically exaggerated effort. “Ru, may I introduce: Jewel, Tristan’s sister,” Jewel was about six with her blonde hair, blue eyes and fair skin that she had inherited from her father, you could tell that she was going to cause raucous amongst boys. “They can stay in the West wing.” Said Astah’s mother, good, thought Astah, knowing well that the West wing was on the opposite side of the house, they won’t hear my screams. “Hey Astah.” Said Eloa. “Eloa!” Astah replied, just before getting bear-hugged by Tristan’s mum. Tristan’s mum was Brazilian, with black hair and tan skin, you could tell she bore strong exotic heritage. Astah loved how enthusiastic she was, and her youthful spirit gave her an air of non-physical beauty. She was once a Brazilian fashionista, another trait that Astah loved. Eloa had always been determined to have Astah for a daughter-in-law, and now she could scarcely avoid it.   ~ “Goodnight my shooting star.” Her mother said. “Goodnight, mum.” Astah replied. She lay there waiting for the footsteps to recede. She rolled over, sat up and felt under her pillow. The cool touch of the metal told her the shackles were still there, untouched, safe and unknown to anyone but her and the person who had to deal with her in the middle of the night. Her mother didn’t like her wearing them. Her mother said it gave her cuts whilst she slept, which it did, but it was the only way Astah could actually get to sleep. Whenever anyone asked about the scabs and bruises and such on her wrists, she said it was eczema, only a few were smart enough to know better, but the smart ones would always try and give her helpline numbers instead. She lay back down with the shackles attached to her hands, linking them to the sides of the bed, so she didn’t thrash in her sleep as much. The cold feeling of metal clasping around ones’ wrists can be frightening to some. To Astah it was a relief, it gave her a sense of security, of safety, something difficult to come by when you’re trying to be safe from yourself. Ru slept in the room next to her, Ru was one of the incredibly few whom Astah trusted to tell her secret to. But, Astah still refused to have anyone sleep in the same room as her, the wails would keep them awake all night. She had always been a restless sleeper, even before Jami left, as a child. She never remembered the dreams back then. Her sister had asked for them to sleep in separate rooms when Astah was seven. The main argument being that Quinn couldn’t sleep properly with all the noises that Astah made during the night. At camps, Astah had to stay awake all night, so that she didn’t keep anyone else awake, or let anyone have reason to suspect that she was mentally unstable. With Ru, it was different. Ru didn’t think of Astah as less of a human or more of a trouble than she actually was. Ru and Astah were closer than words could describe. When Astah had lost her best friend, Ru comforted her, and when Ru was having troubles with her family, Astah gave her an escape, a home away from home. Astah thought the demons could never separate them.  ~ Astah woke up, mid-scream, to Ru sitting on the left side of her bed. Concern turning her eyes from their beautiful lush green of a spring meadow to a dark green of a shadowed jungle leaf. Astah threw her arms around Ru and sobbed into her shoulder, mostly out of relief that Ru was still alive. “What was it this time?” Ru asked after letting Astah’s sobs dim to quiet, soggy tears.               “Just the usual.” This was always Astah's answer, she refused to tell anyone the dreams she had, even to describe them, or how bad they were. She had come to accept that she had to tell at least a very few people of their existence, but even now, she was reluctant to let them know how torturous they were for her.  A dream that most people have is one where you are being chased, but you can’t move. This was something like what Astah had dreams about. In the sense that neither one of the dreams allows you to move, or run, or have a choice.  Astah’s dreams involved making a deal with the devil, to do his bidding, for her loved ones to stay sane, for them to remain ignorant of how much of a monster she truly was. Sell her soul or horrify everyone she loves. The dark shade in Ru’s eyes reminded Astah of her first encounter with Ru; “Are you ok?” Ru had asked all those years ago, with dark green earrings in her ears, and studded next to them, were eternity symbols of silver. “I’m fine.” Astah had replied, sarcasm, envy, curiosity, anger and spite all trickling into her tone. “You’re obviously not.” Said Ru sitting down next to Astah  “Then why did you ask?” Questioned Astah, spite was now the dominant emotion in her voice. “To be polite I guess,” Ru answered gently. “So what happened?” Looking at in the hurt in Astah’s eyes, she could tell that Astah was pained.  “You don’t have to give names or specifics.” Ru could tell this made Astah more comfortable. “My friend, who has been my best friend for like, eight years.” – Ru could already tell who it was: Hara, a prettyish, Indian-looking, lean girl who had blonde streaks dyed into her hair and was a total Wannabe, Ru didn’t like her all that much. Astah and Hara were commonly known to be best friends, they had secrets and what was thought to be eternal confidence in each other, well, at least Astah had confidence in Hara, though why Astah trusted Hara so much still posed as a difficult question to Ru – “She pretty much died.” Ru knew for a fact that Hara was still alive. Ru could hear her laughing at that moment. “You think I’m talking about Hara, don’t you?” Ru was taken by surprise. Who else could it have been? “You’re right. I am talking about her, or at least the person who used to own that body.” “What do you mean?” Ru asked out of curious confusion. “You probably know that we were very close friends. I thought we kept each other’s secrets.” Astah knew this to be a fact, even though she was ashamed of it. The look on Ru’s face told her that practically the entire year knew that. “Well, now she’s keeping secrets from me, and not keeping mine. In fact, I found out recently that, for years, my ‘secrets’ were public knowledge. And then she acts as if she hasn’t done anything wrong.” Astah got violent with non-living objects when she got mad. “And what more, she tries to convince me that I’ve done something wrong!” She said, her voice rising, and with her voice, her fist, that left an indent on the nearby wall.  “That’s not very nice.” Ru commented. “That’s not the half of it.” “I was talking about you hitting the wall.” “Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to.” The voices had been mocking her, telling her to kill or rubbing it in her face that she had lost a friend. This usually made her angrier “But the girl who was once my friend doesn’t exist anymore. And she’s been replaced, with a traitorous, lying, conniving, scheming little fox! No, not a fox, that would be offensive to foxes. In fact, it was never my friend, it was a traducing renegade, and as such, wore a mask of truth.” Astah practically yelled. By this time people had started looking their way. Astah wanted Hara to hear. “She deserves that name!” Now this, made Hara turn to look at who had said it. She had been listening to the conversation, she would remember it, for years to come, but now she turned to look Astah in the face. Astah had been suspicious of Hara recently, there seemed to be a lot of situations where the response was “nothing” with the edge that it was definitely something and something that she should know. She had been thinking back for the last few years, and how Hara had pulled away after Jami left, but Astah always suspected that had been her fault. That she had spent so much time mourning his leaving that it had shoved a rift between them. Now she knew what the rift really was, and who had really put it there. “So why are you sad? I mean you’re better off without her by the sounds of it.” Queried Ru quietly. “It’s almost comical; ‘sometimes the person you’d take a bullet for, ends up being behind the gun’.” Quoted Astah “I don’t who said it, but they were right. They were so right.” Through Astah’s eyes, Ru could see the bullets in Astah’s heart. “I thought I could trust her. Instead, all of my darkest secrets were public knowledge, they became twisted rumours and jokes. I didn’t even know, apparently, she’s been telling people for years. Until one of the more idiotic boys mentioned something.” Astah explained, her eyes flashing with fury, and though this statement was true, it was not the entire story, not the total reason. Astah stared directly at Hara, from fifty meters away, Hara could see Astah and the malicious fire that had made home in her eyes, and Hara knew: her former friend now knew the truth, and Hara hated her for it. “Like what? What did she say that was so horrible?” Asked Ru, who couldn’t tell the difference between what was supposed to be public knowledge about Astah and what wasn’t. Astah was deciding which thing to mention, which was the truest of the least painful. There was always the Answer Their Question With A Question That Will Prove Your Point tactic. “What’s the weirdest thing about me?” Astah prompted, preparing her I-told-you-so face. “I heard that you didn’t sleep all through the camp. I couldn’t imagine going for three nights without sleeping.” That was only one of the more harmless things that Ru had heard. “Do you know why that is?” Asked Astah, knowing that whatever words came out of Ru’s mouth, the answer was going to be yes. “No.” Ru replied, knowing the answer. Astah could see the guilt melting into Ru’s eyes. “What did you hear exactly?” Astah was curious as to how the stories of her insanity went. “That you scream in your sleep, and you don’t want anyone knowing. Some people say that you dream of getting a B instead of an A in an algebra test.” Ru said, expecting to have the same fate as the indented wall. Astah simply laughed, not the kind of laugh you hear from conversation or the kind you hear at a comedy show. The kind that you hear coming from an angered and malicious Albert Einstein being told a child’s point of view on quantum relativity, as if he wanted to make them experience it, to show them what he knew of it. “Oh, you innocent people. If you only knew the things I dream of.” Astah chuckled, the malice of the demons creeping into her voice for a moment and then seeping away again with the inflation of her resisting will. ~ Ru looked at Astah now, she worried for her. Astah could see something else in Ru’s eyes, a wanting of sorts, but for what? Ru remembered the way that Astah had thrown her arms around Tristan when she saw him. Ru wondered why. He was regarded as one of the immediate family, even though he was only there for less than a week per year. Ru reminded herself that Tristan was head of his family and knew he could not provide them with enough money to have a house. Tristan worked like a fully-grown man, managing to become an employed as part of Surgical Tech in a big hospital. But Astah treats him like he’s the most reliable person on the planet. As if he has been here the whole time. He hasn’t been here the whole time, Ru had. Ru never got that much recognition.  Ru looked at Astah and came to reason. Astah loved him. Ru departed soon after and Astah managed some more sleep. ~ Astah woke up slowly, silently. This was scarier for her than waking up screaming and thrashing against her chains from a nightmare that she hated and having voices whirlwind around her head. She hesitantly and wearily sat upright in order to look at the raven black doorway that was luminated just so she could glimpse it. It was a clearly evil intending figure floating in her room for long enough to catch a glimpse before it vanished through the door. Astah unshackled herself, following the figure. It stopped outside Quinn’s bedroom, melting through the door. Astah’ feet fumbled. The figure stood beside Quinn, stroking her skin. It rippled to pale grey at the figure’s caress. The figure turned to look at Astah. Astah and her petrified expression, desperately trying to comprehend the situation. It had two gold horns either side of its humanoid face, gleaming bronze. It’s deep purple eyes melted dark into their dark irises. This demon was specifically bred for torturing her.