Wanting

Chapter one: Her

I was on my way to my favourite cafe, following the worn pavement walkway. Tugging the sleeves of my sweater down, balling the material in my small fists. I was on my way to get coffee, at a little student cafe called Procrastination. My day was off to a wonderful start, I smiled to myself, it would be a great day. I repeated the words in my head, hoping to make it real. I stopped in front of the tinted cafe door. A light breeze blew past. Pushing my dark brown hair into my face, I tucked it behind an ear before reaching for the door. My hand stilled in the air, resting a little above the metal handle. Time slowed down, everything else drowned out by the heavy beats of my heart as I stood frozen.

My eyes trained on the door, my body trembling. I had to remind myself to force the air into my lungs. There was a figure behind me in the reflection, my eyes moved trying to focus on it. The reflection was smudgy with dark edges, as if the glass was dirty. I sucked in as much air as I could before turning my head a little to look behind me, but there was nothing behind me. I looked back towards the door, the figure still there. A memory from my childhood tried to surface, but I pushed it down, shaking my head. The door swung open from the inside, taking the shape away faster than it had appeared. I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding as a boy stepped out, “oh sorry I didn’t see you there,” he said smiling softly. I looked up at him, a small smile on his face as he tucked a piece of hair behind his ear.

“f**k you look pale,” he muttered, “are you all right? Do you need some help?” his deep voice rumbled out while all I could do was stare at him, the words lost to me. His eyes held concern, and I wondered why he worried about a stranger. I tugged on my sleeves, self-conscious as his eyes burned into me. I tried to say something, opening and closing my mouth. Finally, stuttering out in a soft small voice, “I-I’m okay.” I swayed back and forth on my feet, feeling uncomfortable and off-balance. My head was pounding. I lifted my hands to rub my temples, the cracked nail polish on my nails bothering me as my fingers came into view. A sudden bout of nausea hit me, and I realized he was still in front of me. He stuck out an eager hand, “my name’s Tom,” his smile brightened, and I couldn’t take it anymore. He was being too nice, and it made me feel more uncomfortable than I already was. “I have to go” I mumbled before moving past him and into the little cafe. Trying to shake the feeling of discomfort, I rushed for the counter. I felt as if I was being watched, Goosebumps began forming beneath my sweater. Before I could even open my mouth the barista behind the counter asked me “one black coffee with two sugars, right?” I nodded, and he turned to the machine to fix my order as I placed the five-dollar bill on the counter.

I moved and joined the line of people waiting for their coffee. Tapping my foot on the tiled floor, trying to avoid everything and everyone around me. Placing my earphones in, I let the loud music fill my ears. Deep breaths, I reminded myself, breath in, breath out. The bodies surrounding me made me feel claustrophobic. The glass windows viewing the gardens made me feel like I was on the inside of a fishbowl. My palms began itching, causing the urge to dig my nails into my palms. Close and flex, close and flex, I told myself over and over as I made my hands move. I felt trapped. There was a nagging sensation, something nagged at me to remember to think about it. I shook my head, trying to focus on the song instead of my thoughts that wanted to drag me into the past. Sighing, I turned to face the large windows that showed the lush campus gardens. The shape was there, next to my reflection, a black smudge. It was slouching against something, I couldn’t move or look away, the music kept on blaring as I kept staring.

There was a hand on my arm causing me to turn around grabbing the arm of the person. It was the barista, the shock clear on his face, “You all right?” he held my coffee in his free hand. Shaking my head to rid my mind of the shape. I let go of his arm before I mumbled: “yeah, I’m fine, thanks for the coffee.” I took my coffee from him without looking back as I left the cafe. I was heading for the main lecture hall, walking as fast as I could to avoid seeing it or dealing with more people. I was hyper-aware of everything around me. Ripping my earphones out just made it all worse. The birds in the trees whistling like they were a part of some nature symphony. The wind rustled through the autumn leaves and scattered them on the green grass. The noise of leaves scratching, joining the bird’s song. There was a group of girls laughing and talking on the grass about a party coming up. The one girl was leaning back while laughing as the sun shone off her auburn hair.

My head whipped in the other direction as I noticed the gigantic oak in front of the hall. A squirrel was running along a branch before darting between the leaves disappearing. It was too much, everything was too much. I made my way up the sandstone steps, almost running now as if I could outrun the world itself. I felt the thump of my drawstring bag as it hit my back, the shape of my textbooks slamming into my back with each step. My feet colliding with one step before pushing off for the next. I wanted to go lie down in my dark and quiet dorm room, but I couldn’t miss this lecture. It was important. The lecturer droned on about the importance of human resource management in the background. I tapped my fingers on my desk, and the thumping echoed through my head. I was doing my best to avoid peeking at the windows on the left side of the room.

It was hard to focus on the lecture at all. The three words I’d thought since seeing the shadow: ‘Please not again’ racing through my mind. Once the lecture had ended, I grabbed my bag stuffing my book into it. I need to leave, I need fresh air. Rushing out as soon as I pushed myself past other students. I was running down the stairs, across the walkway onto the green grass. I stopped, I couldn’t move further, it was hard to breathe. Pain ripped through my body, causing me to shiver and tremble as I sank to my knees, breathing heavily. Then I was back, back in first grade English class. “Talia do you see that,” I asked my best friend. She swivelled in her seat, brown curls tumbling along with her head as she peered at the window. “What, I see nothing there” she turned back to me, a smile on her small face and her brown eyes alight. “But I swear Talia there’s a shadow there” I whispered, still looking beyond her at the window. “Oh, you and your imagination,” she giggled, making her nose scrunch up. Highlighting the dainty freckles splattered there.

“Hey, hey, come on, come back”. The world around me came into focus. My world was tilting and blurry, tears pooled in my eyes before they started slipping out. The tears left a salty trail down my cheeks, some touching my lips, the others dropping onto my bare legs. I clenched my fists, nails biting into skin, hoping the pain would take away the memory. Then Talia was on the grass in front of me, her curls wilder than they were in the first grade. Her forehead creased with worry, “what happened?” she asked me. There was no answer. All I could do was look at her. More tears spilled while I clenched my first tighter. I felt the dampness in my hands as I broke the skin. I looked to my hands, still clenched, my nails digging into the skin. The words came out a hoarse whisper as if I had been screaming “it’s back, he’s back” and then I sank forward and cried. Talia caught me. Cradling me in her arms, all the time whispering, “it’s okay, it’s all going to be okay”. I don’t know how or when but, somehow, I was back in my dorm room.

I woke up eyes swollen and red, somehow still teary when I had thought I had cried it all out. I dressed in an oversized t-shirt and shorts. I saw the water bottle and pain killers with a note: for that killer headache, take it easy. My roommate, Stacy, wasn’t in the room, Talia had closed the curtains and my cupboard door which had a long mirror in it. It was good that she still knew what to do. I slid down, settling on the floor before swallowing the pills. My throat tightened, I still couldn’t handle swallowing pills. The bitter memory burned as I struggled to get them down. The taste of the pills and the lumpy feeling remained, no matter how much water I swallowed to get rid of it. My head was roaring like a giant waterfall, the sounds cascading down around me. Cocooned in darkness and the sound droned on and on.

Drawing my knees to my chest and resting my head on top of them, hoping the aching would stop. It didn’t stop, though; I woke up again when Stacy came in. She was tripping a little over her own feet, “you’re still awake, it’s like eleven pm,” she slurred. “Ah, s**t,” she said and ripped open her bag and threw a few mints into her mouth before sitting down on her bed in front of me.

“Hey, are you all right?” she sounded worried. We hardly ever talked. She was more like Talia, and I was too shy to create another relationship with anyone. I somehow also sensed she was reluctant in that department. “No. I don’t think so,” I looked up into her face. She had a slight sheen of sweat on her face. Her blond hair clinging to it and her makeup was a little smudged around her green-brown eyes. “Well, I know what to do for that,” she said, reaching for me, lifting me from the floor “damn you heavy for a small girl” she puffed. She didn’t bother getting me dressed, shoving sneakers on to my feet. Off we went to the place that she claimed would make me feel better.

Turns out the place that she had in mind was a tattoo studio. “You like art so ta-dah,” she said motioning to the studio’s neon green sign on a tinted window. “Plus, I need a fresh one anyway,” she marched in through a door, holding it open while motioning for me to follow her inside. Dear lord, what have I gotten myself into, I thought as the door closed behind us. A woman came strolling out in tiny shorts with a matching cropped shirt. “Stacy my girl,” she said, hugging her hard, her purple hair fading into pink, hiding her face. Every inch of her bare skin covered in ink, not only black ink but coloured ink too. “Oh, you brought a new friend” she purred letting Stacy and winking at me. “Hello dear, my name is Candy” she said in a sultry voice. She looked me up and down with a smile on her face, her eyes shone purple in the fluorescent lighting. “Oh, does she have any tattoos, Stacy?” she asked hopefully. Her smile was infectious. I couldn’t help the slight smile that formed. “Nope, not a single one” Stacy smirked while looking back at me causing me to blush.

“Is that why you’re back again so early, is it for her?” she asked, turning back to Stacy. “Why yes, Candy it is,” she said with a wicked grin now plastered on her face. There was no way out of it, I had denied Stacy before when we talked about me getting one. It was often one of the foremost things we would bicker about. Her focal point was if you liked art so much why it wasn’t on your body. Today I didn’t have the energy to fight back on the idea, it was time I did a little more living and a little less worrying. I soon sat in a leather chair, half tilted back. “You ready,” Candy asked, the name kind of sounded more like a stripper but I tried not to judge. I gave a tentative smile and nodded; Stacy had picked out a quote for me with a brief sentence on each wrist. I don’t know how Stacy had known; she must have found them highlighted in one of my favourite novels. She did sometimes snoop through my novel collection. The brief sentences would cover the twin scars that marked my wrists. The scars I had spent the last ten years trying to forget, I forced myself not to look down at them. I often told myself they weren’t there. Imagining that something hadn’t happened enough times. That it wouldn’t have happened at all.

The needle bit into my skin, it hurt a little before the pain receded and it felt more like a thin tickling sensation. She worked from one wrist to the other. I was staring up at the mirrored ceiling, trying to watch her while she worked. Somehow seeing what caused the pain always made it feel less painful. All the while Stacy was walking up and down the preview wall. leaning in to inspect all the tattoos, pointing out which ones were hers. I never knew she had so many. “All done,” Candy said smiling at me. “Here’s to trying unknown things, I hope you like them,” she said with a wink. The quote tattooed so I could read it in neat lines, one on each wrist. ‘You must not bend’ on the left and ‘you must not break’ on the right. “I like this,” I said, looking up, smiling. The pounding in my head had dissipated by now, but not gone completely. I felt different, I didn’t know how to place it, but somehow the ink on my skin made me feel more comfortable. Somehow it made me feel more like myself than I felt before.

“Come back if you need an addition or another,” she winked. Stacy handed over some bills “I’ll be seeing you soon, some people get addicted”. She looked to Stacy, winking at her now. We laughed as we said our goodbyes and walked out into the night air. We walked back to the campus, it was one am by now and the city was silent. “Stacy, I wanted to say thank you,” I stammered as I turned and smiled at her. “It’s good to see you smile,” was all she said. Walking back in silence to our dorm. The night air was cool, and the stars were out. They shined in the back as the moon hung in the sky brighter than I’ve seen it in a long time. Almost as if it was happy too lighting the surrounding night. I looked down at the tattoos covering my scars. I always survived, I would not stop trying now.