The room was illuminated by the vibrancy given off from the TV, its array of LEDs shined their light outwards like a search squad trying to find a man overboard at sea. Cascading their beams of light onto every wave, waves that were luminesced which were various objects within the tight living room. A dresser at the very left wall containing a one gallon fish tank which housed a rust colored betta fish. The kitchen in the background hiding behind the couch which was getting only the farthest reaches of luminous particles. The hallway that ducked off to the right not wishing to be seen, regardless as it still made an appearance. On the left wall hung several pictures of her and her family, but one stood out the most, and that was of Her and Anthony; they were on their second date as they smiled at the device that froze time onto the paper. And last that was left was the coffee table holding leftover takeout, waiting in vain for it was going to be tossed the next day due to negligence. All of said items basked in the alternating luminescence giving live to their appearances with the shifts of hues and brightnesses, casting dancing shadows on various walls within the confide. The only wave in this room that had motion to it was Her. Clarice. Being quite slim, she had wavy, long brown hair(which was done up in a bun), an angular face made of a slightly strong jawline and cheekbones, she was dashing to look upon with her rich light brown eyes as well that glowed in the sunlight. She laid there, semi-supine with a knee arched up having the other leg resting on it. She was wearing a gray sweatshirt and blue gym shorts, the lining of this fabric was trimmed with lines of white. Hands were hoisting up her phone which would wiggle every now and then from using one to gesture with as if moving about like a marionette. The TV that was casting its rays of light was also producing a murmur of audio which was barely detectable, white-noise as you could call it. Actors moving about on the plane, putting up a performance that was frivolous, being overshadowed by the smaller screen that contained a person of higher status lying between her fingers. Above the tiny moving picture displayed his name along the shining pixels. Tai.

  “Look, I know things between us are kinda rickety right now, and that is my fault.” The woman says as she undoes her hair to let loose the strands that were beginning to become fatigued from their trusses. “It's just that, I don’t know? Things for me have felt complicated for a while. I shouldn't have led you on like that.”

  “Hey, it is okay. I understand, I am also partly to blame for it. I apologize on my behalf.” She is talking to a Black man on the small screen who is wearing a white tee. Just from the head-shot in which you can see, he is quite masculine and has a notch of blond accompanying his short buzzed hair along the left temple. “I knew that you guys were together, but you gotta see the situation that you are in.” She turns to the left and plays with her hair more, undoing the knots within. “If someone ignored and pushed me away for a whole month, I'd drop em. Hell, after the first week, I don’t see why you are so hung up about this?” The man on the screen has a raised lip and brow from confusion, feeling the words he jutted out.

  “I just don't even know what to think of it, I see what you are saying but we were together for three years.” Weight was laid into those last two words as she gestured with her free hand as well. Her TV and the whir of her fridge spoke lightly, filling these few seconds of silence. They vibrated and filled the open air. She sighed and then picked up where she left off. “I get that his mother died and I just wanted to be there for him. It is so hard to do that for him cause of his crazy ass family. They interfere so much with us. I fucking hate his bitch of a sister, her crazy eyepatch having ass. But still, fuck them! I feel like he has some sort of bonds tied to him so that’s the only reason that they care for and keep him alive.” Her words became shaky as she started to feel a twinge in her eyes and throat.

  “That sounds like a massive yikes, I ain’t never had to deal with some bullshit like that before. I remember that you said his father wasn’t around, that kind of thing can fuck with you from the inside out, some kind of psychological shit. Speaking of which, I'd say that you can relate considering your own relationship with your parents.”

  “Yeah, I know. I was there.”

  “It is just exposition, but anyways, as I was saying, no one should have to put up with all of that, you didn’t deserve any of that. Not that anyone actually does, but, you know.” She is now wiping tears from her eyes, the actors on the TV can suddenly be heard for just a few moments again. “I can tell you right now, if my momma passed away, I don’t know how I would deal with it. Hell, I love my momma. My pops on the other hand, no one knows if he is alive or dead at this point in time. I’m mean, at least you know where yours is.” The background is now filled with his kitchen as she assumes that he is sitting at his dinner table with his phone propped up, resting his face on one hand as his fingers curl around one side with sparse separations, he is absorbed in thought as he staring blankly off into an unimportant direction, getting lost into the confines of his mind.

  “Yeah that piece of shit could die in a hole for all I care, both of them.” She awaits a reply, but he is still lost into a sea of thoughts. One side of him is twitching up and down, she can only assume that he is doing it himself upon a leg, pumping blood to one side while he is distracted by the horrible thoughts of losing a loved one. He feels the silence creeping in and tries to steer the conversation elsewhere after a shake to his body and a deep sigh, this section of conversation has gotten dry and he is unsure of how to respond to her comment.

  “I'm also really glad you decided to call me back Clare. I was starting to get worried about us.” She was shook to a fit from this utterance of words that dug drilled back into her moralities. She responded like she was on autopilot.

  “Don't, say it, like-that.” The words trembled out of her mouth, they came slower than the water from her eyes. The man looks down, taking a resentful sigh as he moves his lips from one side and then to the other as he continues to listen to her outburst. “It makes me feel horrible about-‘us’.”

  “I'm sorry Clare. I didn't mean it like that. You are a great friend and I don’t want anything to happen to our relationship.” He says looking intently at the screen before him, the actors from the TV chime in again, but are masked behind snivels and sorrow.

  “No, I’m sorry. My head has just been so messed up lately. I’m glad you talked to me at this hour. Just hearing someone's voice pulls me out of that slump, even considering what we did. I try not to think about…” She continues to push away droplets with her thumb.

  “Hey, it happened and now we are past that. You called me first and I recognize that you did. That kind of thing takes strength. You showed me how brave you can be and I admire that. You had been at the back of my mind for awhile, well, since after that night. Honestly? I was scared to call you ha ha.” She laughs back at his open insecurities but is comforted by his vulnerability.

  “You should have called me! It was eating away at me all week!” She says this while forcing herself to sit up from her exultation and excitement.

  “I'm sorry, it's just one of these things you know? Damned if I do, and damned if I don’t. But yeah, you’re right. Getting all of this stuff dealt with asap should have been something I jumped on.” He seems to have stepped outside of his house as the lighting on his face changes and the sounds of cars passing by can be faintly heard muffled in the background emitting from the speaker of her phone.

  “Things aren’t going to be weird now are they?” Clarice asked while pushing a strand of hair out of her face, being strung up with uncertainty. He chuckles at this question and her facial expression.

  “Hey, we are talking right now aren’t we? I can see you, you can see me. If you really want to find out I can drive over right now?.. Hey, how you doin brotha?” He casually says to a person out of the frame, breaking the odd tension that was in their conversation. She hesitates a bit before answering, a cheek rose along with hearing his proposition.

  “Who was that?” She uttered out, trying to change the topic of their conversation.

  “Just my neighbor Michael, He is honestly one of the chillest dudes that I have met. Also don’t be changing the topic after a question like that, are you going to answer my question Ms.Mam?” He says to her with a tamber of playfulness and seriousness to his voice with a raised eyebrow, expecting the authority of his brow to coax her into answering his question.

  “Eh, my house is dirty and it is actually super late.” He laughs again at her response as he can see that she had broken eye contact with the screen.

  “Yeah yeah, I get it, I won’t push. But, I just want you to know, I am always here for you.” Cars can be heard passing by, their sounds play through the tiny speaker in her hand as she absorbs his reaction. She smiles in response.

  “Thank you Tai, I really apprecia-” Unexpectedly, interrupting their conversation, her phone starts vibrating and displays an incoming call from Anthony. Her heart sinks just gazing upon his name. She puts the phone face down on her chest as she turns her head whose lips are being pressed on by her closed fist. Choking back more tears, she tries her best to ignore the ring-tone buzzing away, feeling a sudden intrusion of frustration pool over her as they take over the wheel she lost control.

  “Goddammit!” She screams as she stands up and lets her device know her pain by hurling it through the air at the drywall, thus adding another dent to its menagerie of knicks and scuffs. Miraculously, the phone survived unscathed given its wonderful case, still, it was beating on the floor as the motor rattled in the name of ambivalence.

  “Clare? Clare you alright?” The tiny man on the rectangle then shakes his head and ends his video chat as he got no response and only a black screen. Clarice had then propped up from her resting spot and stomped over to her kitchen table, holding a pack of unopened cigarettes wielding them much like a rotating pedestal under a singular spot light. In her desperation she unsheathed the plastic seal and packed it a few times into her other hand. Trying to take her mind off of the screaming device on the floor it was in vain, but she knew that an old cowboy killer could do something about it. Her mind was in shambles, as all she could do was think about the one calling her, the one she committed adultery to in her books, for her library was vast, and a growing collection. The ring-tone of her phone was like a crowd of people screaming obscenities at her, shaming her for what she felt was wrong which was a turmoil that felt like ages to pass.

  When she could hear a rerun of friends clearly solo in the air she realized that she had an unlit one hundred between her lips and was slightly skewed, smelling the cut packed tobacco that it vaguely let off. She took five steps over to the trash bin, stamped the petal and let those cowboys know the abyss. Turning back and making her way towards her carapaced friend, she picked it up off the ground and saw the video chat had ended with Tai. The notification bar and micro-bulb at the top was showing her what she wanted, an icon of a phone deflecting an arrow and a pulsing deep green dot. The sight of those two contentious beings burrowed deep into her ailing mind. Still, she didn't know whether to feel enmity or compassion towards them, the battle was still being duked out in the back of her library of books. Incinerate this man from your life, or make him a commandment? Before she knew it, she could feel trails of moisture tickling the surfaces of her cheeks.

  Anthony! The whole screen goes dark and his name takes over the majority of it as she feels it shake in her hand. This time she is composed. This time she does not fall into the disarray of emotions that beheld her prior. She sets aside uncertain emotions as well as him, and with management she is able to not fall into autonomy with the press of the decline call button.

  She wasn't able to sleep at all that night, she was thankful that he hadn't tried to call her again, either of them. No text messages as well, but it still concerned her. Clarice was off to work, driving on the freeway and pulled onto an exit. She worked as a CNA at an old folks home. She didn't feel justified by it cause most were there for a paycheck. She wanted to help them as much as they could but they drove her patience harder than a diamond drill. But she continued to make her way there in her pre-owned prius and black cold brew in a free hand. She was listening to the radio, it was some gag channel that did nothing but make fun of celebrities. She didn't care about today and thought

  ‘Hey, why not take a little edge off with some Baileys?’ so she pulled in-lane towards the liquor store close by. As she was coming close to the store her eyes caught something harsh. Anthony's vehicle was sitting right out front of the place which stood out like a sore thumb among the others, it made her do a double take. She slammed on the brakes so hard it spilled her coffee all over the dashboard and her scrubs. All she could do was stare in bewilderment as she shook her hands trying to get rid of the liquid hugging her skin.

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  ‘What the FUCK!? I just don't want to be thinking of him right now!’ she thought. A few cars started queueing up behind her as they soon started to blare on their horns. All she could do was make a hasty u-turn to return back home with runny mascara and damp navy blue scrubs. She called into work that day wishing that she never had the pleasure to lay sight onto his car.

  Clarice was now out on the walkway outside of her apartment in a dark purple plaid fleece with gray sweatpants and pink fluffy slippers. She is indulging in a cowboy killer as she leaned on the railing and looked off into the distance as a gentle breeze played with her unkempt hair, the same breeze that was coaxing the pink clouds along the sky. Her face has been cleaned of any make-up showing the bags underneath her dimmed and squinted eyes. As she puffs on the relaxing carcinogens, she sees her co-workers car pull up into the parking lot below as the windows of her car glint from the pastel colors of the setting sun. Megan gets out of her tan Camry and waves to her. She waves back at her and is quite happy to see a familiar face, disintegrating the loneliness that was ailing her. Megan opens up the back door and pulls out a rather large bottle of red wine and proceeds to walk up the stairs to Clarice.

  “Hey girl, you doing alright?” She asks her with a tilt of her head as she eyes the cigarette in her fingers. Clarice lets out a sigh and then skims a smile across her face.

  “I’m doing better after seeing you, sorry about today.” She flicks the ashes off of her lit stick.

  “Oh, well no need to be sorry, I know what you’ve been dealing with lately. That is why I brought this.” Megan says as she lifts and shakes the bottle of red blends. “Only had a few visits today, so the workload wasn’t bad at all. Looks like you gotta start over on the smoking though.” Clarice grimaces a bit from this remark and then takes one last puff before snuffing it out on the ground.

  “Yeah, I should have took out the trash when I had the chance.” She lets off of the railing and walks into her apartment with Megan trailing behind her. The ambience is cozy with all of the curtains closed and being lit by only a dim lamp along with the TV. The air is pleasant to the nostrils as a sandalwood incense is slowly being charred by an ember down its shaft with a string of smoke teetering through the air. The background airwaves are filled with the sounds from a movie being played that has no audience.

  “You look pretty tired there Clare, did you get any sleep?” Megan asks while she cracks the top off of the bottle of reds.

  “Maybe just for a few hours, got shaken awake by some horrible dreams.” Clare answers back as she hands Megan a couple of wine glasses who reminisces about her own dreams as if she never had the chance to speak of them before.

  “I dreamt that I was back in highschool, walking around the hallways trying to find my next class. It’s so weird, I knew I was back at my old school but everything looked different and weird. I forgot how much school blows.” Megan says with a smile as she hands a filled cup to Clare.

  “I wasn’t too fond of it myself, prom was nice.” Clare takes a drink from her glass, tasting the dryness of the red gold along with some fruity notes as the alcohol warms her stomach, putting a satisfied grin on her face.

  “Prom was nice, that was when I lost my virginity.”

  “Yeah yeah, Tommy Lewis and his weird balls.”

  “I told you that it was a birthmark, they are still the most interesting balls that I have ever seen or felt, mind you.” Megan says as she wriggles the fingers in her free hand in a wave-like pattern. Clare turns her head away and puts out a palm.

  “Oh my god, stop! You are unbelievable.”

  “Okay, no more ball talk.” Megan says while throwing her arms out in a sign of resignation but still holding a grin on her face. She turns her head while she waits for Clare to take another drink and then side steps closer to her. “Like velvet” She says to her in a sardonic tone, Clare instantly turns around to the sink behind her and spews out wine through pursed lips into a fine mist as a few dribbles out of her nose, sprinkling most of the surfaces in her kitchen. Megan has a hearty laugh in reaction which is soon followed by her friend who is cradling a hand beneath her mouth and chin. She hands her the hand towel that was hanging on the handle of the fridge which Clare then used to wipe her face dry.

  “Goddamn you!” Clare was able to utter through the cracks of her own mirth. Megan went to the table and ripped some paper towels to help her clean the mess that she created.

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” As she then imitates the noise she made and laughs some more. Clare playfully punches her shoulder while wearing a smile she wasn’t aware of.

  “Fuckin bitch, oh my god.”

  Glasses refilled and splotches were now cleaned, Megan and Clare were now sitting in chairs nestled at the dinner table. Megan has a shit eating grin and could feel Clare looking at her, done soaking in her enjoyment she turned to meet her eyes ending with a sigh.

  “So. What was it that woke you up?” Clare was taken off guard as she forgot about her pains from the enjoyment of her friend and actions, nonetheless, she was in a better state to process emotions. She herself then sighed and looked down onto nothing, as her focus now was on communicating what was bothering her, a tremor grew through her lip as she started to speak with closed eyes.

  “I was sitting there in a chair, everything was dark except a single light that was shining on me from above. Soon people started to walk past me, they were all dressed in nice clothes, you know in the 60s when everyone wore suits and suede dresses, but the thing was they all had a red towel covering their faces. I could see them look at me, look at me with their hidden faces, glare into me even though that red fabric.They were small movements, but you could tell they were looking at me as they passed by. The weird part was that they would all blow air out of their mouths, almost like a hiss of disapproval. You know, ‘PFFT’ like I was nothing to them. Shit was pissing me off, but whatever, the worst one was a guy sitting across from me that I only noticed after watching one of the strange people walk by, he was only like three feet in front of me but he had a white towel covering his.”

  “God that is some weird shit.” Megan said with a frown as she took another swig from her glass as she broke eye contact with her again, pondering everything her friend was telling her about her dream as she continued to listen.

  “I know right?- But anyways,- That towel he had over his face, started to get soaked in blood, the sheen from it could be seen as it further soaked the towel. It was horrible cause I could tell that he was staring at me, he was looking at me in the hopes that I would be able to help him in some way. I wanted to help him, but I was just like him having my hands tied behind my back. I couldn’t get up or move my legs, that bound feeling is terrifying, especially when you want to help someone that is in need of aid. The people kept walking by doing nothing to help us as I started to scream at them for it.” Tears had started to form droplets within her ducts as she continued to look at her friend with a face of sorrow. “He nudged and grunted as if trying to break free as if he was begging to choke on the blood. Then the blood started dripping down from his face and the towel, right down onto his clothes. That is when I could see that it was Anthony, I know what his wardrobe is and the tattoo of a bee on his right forearm. He started squirming more violently to break free as the noises he was making got worse. And, that is when I woke up.” She finishes her long recalling with a resigning upwards swipe of her free hand while the other raises her glass to finish what was left in the cup. Megan is taken aback by her story as she is kneeling her head a distance away, a distance as far as her cradled sitting position had allowed. Her face is stretched with concern as she looks down and then back up while still holding her own glass.

  “Goddamn girl, what the hell you be taking? At least warn me next time before you trauma dump a nightmare like that on me.” Clare looks at her friend and her response giving a light smile as she then takes a sigh whilst fingering the rim of her vacant glass.

  “”It is definitely something out of the ordinary. It was so horrible that I had to tell someone about it. Horrible in the sense that I know, It was about Anthony.” She says his name with slight vulgarness as she looks up, trying to take in the emotion from her companion. Megan takes a sigh and relaxes, relaxes and sees that her friend is still troubled by the descriptions that she told her. She waits a few moments in which she is glancing back and forth between her unwavering eyes and the cup she holds between her hands.

  “You don’t want anything to happen to him right?” she asks her with great hesitation. Clare's face had then folded into itself as if a string had snapped that was keeping her emotions in check. Her next words were falling apart just like she was.

  “I still want to call him my boyfriend, but at this point I’m not-. I am not sure about it anymore-” She couldn’t keep talking as tears started flowing while her lips began to fight each other. Megan stood up and held her head close to her body as she began to stroke her hair, caressing her shape unto her own.

  “Honey, I am so sorry. I’m here, I’m here.” She says to her as she continues to embrace Clare. Megan raised both of her hands to cradle her face as the curves then captured the rainfall from above as she looked into both of her eyes intently. “We all love you my dear, I do, Tai does, hell, even Anthony does. With all of the relationships that I have been through, I know that they never stop loving you. Their actions may hurt, their words may hurt, but trust me, no matter how horrible, they are only doing it out of love. That or therefore lacking of it, which in his case I can confidently say the latter. I know it sounds ridiculous, but this shit turns you into a goddamn animal. Love is worse than any drug out there, it makes you do things that you would never do, makes you agree with thoughts that go against what you believe in.” Clare lets off of Megan’s hold while sitting up straight, she is still brushing off stray tears from her face.

  “Why?” That is all that she asks. “Why do I have to care so much about what, HE, thinks about me?” Her eyes are swollen and red, the look is turned towards her comrade. “WHY?!” She screams at her. Megan then breaks eye contact as she lets her glass rest on the table. “The reason that I called into work today,-” She lets off anticipating Megan’s reaction as her friend then looks up at her and holds contact. “He tried to call me last night. But the icing on the cake was that I saw his car parked outside of the liquor store.”

  “Go to him.” She says without a shimmer of doubt in her mind or body.

  “What?” Clare responds in confusion. Megan then turns her head and looks deep into her eyes. Staring, absorbing the front that she has been unwillingly put forth for her to see. Clare adverts her sight to the side like a child, in a bout of insecurity for a few moments, then right back into the fray, the fray of which was her trusted companion's pupils. Megan then closes her eyes, takes in a deep breath and holds it. After a few seconds, she expels the air and rests her lungs for a stint, regaining the confines and replenishes what was lost. Then, she opens her eyes which pierce Clare's status, shaking her into alertness. She has never seen her closest friend in a state like this, in this manner, in this aptitude that had altered her facial expression within this fever.

  “He had tried to reach out to you once more cause he still loves you as well. Go to him now and pull him out of that muck that he is in. If you don’t do that now, then I fear that you will never have another chance, given the road that he is going down. I know that you have tried before but if you really love him, then you cannot give up. I can see just how strongly you think about him. Not just in your words but also in the back of your mind through your dreams.” The words rang through her ears and within the confines of her mind. Strangely ringing about without reverberations, they were almost unbearably resonating with what she didn’t want to believe for so long. The words exploded inside of her, driving her compulsively, before she knew it, she was right outside of his complex, like all of her past actions had happened within the snap of a finger. She was leaning forwards in her car, looking up to his apartment window through her windshield. She could see that the lights within his room were on, given the yellowish glow that was painted on the curtains and edges of the rectangular sill, piercing the darkness of the night. Two bodies were moving back and forth from within, painting their silhouettes on their unnoticed captors. She removed her hands from the steering wheel and angled one of them backwards involuntarily as her brow furrowed.

  “What the fuck is going on?” A hint of dryness and fruits were still at the back end of her throat, that was all she could taste as she smacked her gums after a glug from a water bottle. The street lights were smeared across her sight as the static image of her boyfriend's window burned into her mind. The cold air was but a mild nuisance upon her vessel considering she didn’t grab a coat, the only thing that she could think about was Anthony. Anthony and their intimate relationship. ‘If I am here, why is he up there with another person?’ Was the question that she assumed. Stepping out of her vehicle, she then made her way down the left side of the sidewalk, in ways to the other entrance as it was easier this way to get to his room. As she turned the corner she could see an ambulance and a fire truck parked outside. Somehow she didn’t notice the lights changing the surrounding scenery as she was shocked by this site. Frozen in her steps for a few seconds, this brought her to a great haste as she ran further up to the secondary entrance. Incidentally, a crew of EMT’s and a stretcher were already coming right out of the doors. As their paths met she caught sight of the person held within the moving cot, it was Anthony.

  “Oh Jesus Christ! Is he okay?!” She demanded the first responders as she ran up to his side.

  “He is okay for the moment mam, we resuscitated him just fine. Only time can tell from here that is.” One of the men said to her as he walked off from his side holding a tablet.

  “What the fuck are you kidding me?! Resuscitated?!” She says, looking at him with a dire and frantic look. The face he has is pale and the bags under his eyes are a noticeable blue hue. His breathing appears to be in rough shape. She doesn’t notice the streams coming down from her eyes. “Can I ride with him in the back? Please, Please!? I’m his girlfriend!”

  “I am sorry mam, but his condition is critical, we need the cabin clear for best operations.” The man says to her as he soon joins his coworkers in operating the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. Clarice falters back and comes to a stop brimming with defeat and guilt, staring forwards unto the one she loved so dearly.

  “I was too late.” She utters under her breath with a flaccid stare that could say a thousand words.