The water was far too hot, forcing me to wince each time I submerged any air-cooled skin into the nearly scalding water. The bath was cavernous in a bathroom that bordered on ludicrous in size and opulence. Sitting in the foamy water, I looked around, taking note of every detail, doing my absolute best to avoid thinking about the events of earlier, and despite my efforts to distract myself, failing.
I hadn't spoken a word to Alex on our long ride back to Jet's. nor had he. It's possible he thought I was asleep, I did close my eyes, or perhaps it was his attempt at courtesy.
His face was full of curiosity but he probably wanted to give me time to collect my thoughts. Is that what I was doing in here? Collecting my thoughts?
Mania was real. In every sense. I had believed Jet, but being there, seeing her...I focused on the bathroom's limestone tile looking for patterns in their arrangement that almost certainly weren't there.
Jet had been waiting out front when we got back to his place. Alex had called him on the way and very briefly filled him in, saying that something had happened at the Symphony hall and that I was okay, but shaken. Truthfully, I was a little more than shaken. He thankfully said no more, and despite definitely not being okay, I was glad to postpone Jet's flipping out.
I had never really seen Jet worried. His face wore worry strangely -- fear mixed with longing, like a lost child. I didn't cry or have the slightest desire to on the long car ride back, but seeing him brought on the waterworks and before I could stop myself, or him, I was pressed tight against him, enjoying the intensity of his clasp, and embarrassed to be ruining his clean clothes with Mania's handiwork. I demanded to clean up before saying a word about what happened.
I sighed and stirred the water. My ruined clothes lay piled on the floor next to a stack of towels. Removing them was a disgusting challenge. I tried not to think whose blood sat caked in that pile across the floor without much success. Visions of what Mania had done, even though I hadn't seen it, couldn't see it, came at me each time I closed my eyes, flickered at me with every blink.
Feeling a bit suffocated by the heat, I pushed open the windows above the tub. The winter air and the hot bath were a good combination, reminding me fondly of riding in a car with the heater blasting into cold night air. Voices spilled in from down below. I figured I had earned the right to a bit of eavesdropping.
Jet's voice came first and was undoubtedly furious, an emotion of his I'd yet to see firsthand, "Are you hearing this?" I had no idea what the this was, I imagined a television report.
Alec responded quickly and severely, "You have to ask her about it, now." I assumed he meant me. Yeah, duh, obviously me. In truth, I was fine to talk about it. I wanted to know what was going on. "We don't know at all what she's doing here."
Jet was being unusually overprotective, "Not going to happen tonight." He paused for a bit and there was silence between the two of them. I can't imagine they fought like this much. I felt guilty to be wedged in the middle of their friendship.
"I know you're freaked out," Alex began. "But Allie's fine. I'm sure she wants to know what's going on as well." Yes. Thank you. Yes.
"So now that she has information you want, you take the moral highground on filling her in? You're the one who won't ever let me say anything."
"Everything's changed with her back." Alex paused, "Hey, if you were there, we wouldn't be having this talk."
I expected more anger from Jet but the reply didn't come or it was too soft to hear. Being stood up by him tonight was so far down my list of concerns right now. And Jet having been there would have indeed curbed the need for Jet and Alex's argument -- we'd both be dead.
If the conversation continued, it was now out of earshot, which was a mixed blessing in that I didn't enjoy listening to the two fight, but gone with it was the chance to gain more understanding of the what and why behind Mania's actions. They definitely knew about her. Alex seemed willing to trade his information for my account --a trade I was more than willing to make, but I didn't want to hurt Jet by seeming ungrateful for his concern. I knew he was probably hating himself right now and I really didn't want to make him feel any worse.
I felt a tear accelerate down my cheek and glide past my chin. I hadn't realized I'd been crying. I had stopped a long while ago. I must have started up again. I don't know why I was crying. I shouldn't be crying. I turned to catch my reflection in the oversize, polished silver faucet for confirmation, hoping to be wrong. My eyes burned red and my cheeks were slick. Stupid girl emotions betraying my resolve.
I sunk down into the hot water to wash away the salty tears and immediately regretted it, cursing the heat. I checked my reflection again -- my eyes still throbbed, outlined in crimson, but I seemed to be done with the tears, and I couldn't sit in here forever. I had scrubbed my pale skin with enough ferocity to exfoliate down to a sore pink, but even if I hadn't, the heat alone would have baked my skin a blushing red. I caught my naked reflection in the faucet, and quickly embarrassed to see the few remaining bubbles fail to provide much cover, reached for a towel and stepped out carefully onto the hard stone floor.
Leave it to a boy to have a gigantic soaking tub and no towel or bathmat to step out onto. My feet felt slimy as skin and soap battled the heated limestone tiles. Terrified that I'd fall and humiliate myself, I stretched one of the towels in the stack onto the floor for some traction, and content that I wouldn't fall, dried myself off before studying my reflection in the halfway fogged mirror. The thought that I had nothing to change into had been a nagging concern while soaking in the tub, but had seemed a far off problem; now that it was immediate, I was a bit clueless on how to proceed.
I loved Jet, truly and completely, but this is about the time in a movie where the man knocks on the door and offers a change of clothes -- I smiled to realize that this was probably something that Jet would never do. I glowered at my reflection and debated whether I had the confidence to march out wearing only a towel. I wasn't ready yet for Jet to see me without clothes. Well, maybe I was. I checked my pink reflection in the mirror. No, definitely not. Maybe, I wanted to see him without clothes, but not me, not yet.
My choices were either to yell and sheepishly ask him for something to wear, go downstairs in just my towel, or change back into my old clothes. Okay, so number three definitely wasn't an option. Embarrassed, I crept over to the door and called out, not exactly gently, but trying not to sound urgent, "Hey Jet."
I waited a few seconds and tried again even mixing in an "Alex" now and then. And then once more. Still no response or footsteps. That's the problem with this place -- it's just way too big. I wasn't even sure where to look for the two of them. They said they'd be downstairs, but that wasn't terribly specific. I sighed and leaned my back against the door, and after a few seconds of clenching and unclenching my fists with resolve, I exhaled, "Screw it," secured my towel as best I could, and headed downstairs.
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26 comments:
FIRST
i like the female inner monologue thing, you'd make a cute chick
ur gay
Yeah I really liked this. Not sure why you waited a week to post it. It is a refreshing breather from the disgusting and brutal earlier sections. It shows off your range very well.
I like her.
Really great, raddy. Keep it up!
ilu
What's exactly the point of spending pages on describing her taking a bath? Give me a break.
WTF NO MANIA
I like the writing, but I feel that your style works best in shorter pieces such as the one on the balcony or the very short story about the girl eating dreams, which was far and away my favorite. You really don't advance the story or tell us anything new here.
Thx. <3.
I promise lots of exposition in the next section. (Perhaps too much..)
Awesome start
sorry to do this but continueing the discussion on unions etc. heres two posts i think are pretty cool (i know its not exactly what was discussed but w/e its dicks):
http://theunbrokenwindow.com/2006/10/31/raise-your-hand-if-you-are-morally-corrupt/
and another one the subject of evil free market:
http://theunbrokenwindow.com/2009/03/11/it-was-all-the-markets-fault/
ok, i lied - im not actually sorry about this... :P
<3 ya raddy
Bah, first-person writing = meh
the story on the balcony and the one about the girl who ate dreams were the stories that started making me show radikalnoise to my english friends instead of my WoW friends.
It sounds like the boys don't like this one as much.
Agree that The Balcony was your best
you used really terrible diction here, and the girl had no voice.
mehhhhhhh
I really liked this entry, dont know what the rest of you are getting at to be honest. keep it up raddy :)
I actually think the diction in this one is better than the previous two. o.O (where I often felt the descriptions were very out of place with how Allie would talk/think/feel)
It's just a little sappy. =p
haters hate
it was fine / good. it's called character development. not every entry needs to advance the story. gotta get readers attached to the characters.
I put on lingerie to get in character.
extremely good. Probably the best written yet, tho it is understandable since its not that hard of a scene to write (compared to the massacre before).
@ anonymous who posted the unbroken window links, do you know the guy who writes this blog?
just curious :p
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