Chapter 4

I opened my eyes. I closed them.

Opened.

Closed.

Opened.

It was late morning, that much I could be sure of. My half open curtains allow in the tired grayish light. The birds were still out chirping and the trees rustled against my window, as they always did.

Closed.

My fingers barely twitched and the discomfort returned. Or pain. Or disgust. I didn't know what to call this feeling as it ran through my body. Pins and needles, a tingling sensation, whatever it was, it ran through me like waves and water.

Opened.

My clock on my bedside table read 9:43 AM. I wasn't going to school that day. That much was obvious. I'd listened to my parents leave the house and I was still lying there in the suffocating, deafening silence. Every time I moved, my hair moved too. It touched me. God, it touched me. I just wanted to cut it all off. I wanted to be rid of it.

I sat up, ignoring the pins and needles running through me. I grabbed a pair of fabric scissors from the top drawer in my desk and held it up to my hair. But something stopped my hands. They shook, to the point where it felt like I was going to drop the scissors.

"Sorry, I'm not used to seeing you with your hair down. It looks good on you."

My breath caught in my throat and a strangled sob escaped my lips. I couldn't cut my hair. Not after what Javier said to me.

The scissors fell from my grip and tumbled onto the bedroom floor. I curled back up in my bed and pulled the covers over my shoulders. I stayed there all day, flickering in and out of sleep. Naps and nightmares during the day plagued my mind. The occasional sound of my phone vibrating on my desk interrupted my intermittent sleep, but I didn't get up to check it. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to exist. But when I thought of him, when I thought of Javier, I felt warmth bloom in my chest. Some little sliver of hope. Something that could be mine. Some place I could be safe. So I ran his voice through my head. I replayed the conversations we had in my mind. I imagined him smiling at me. That was all I needed. I just needed him. And for hours, that's where I was, living safely in my fantasies with him.

With a sigh, I picked up my phone and clicked through my contacts. When I landed on Ava's, I hesitated, and then called.

"Hello?" she answered almost immediately. I could hear the sound of outside activity on her end, and I guessed that she hadn't gotten home yet.

"Hey, Ava," I said, struggling to hide the quivering in my voice. "Is it okay if I spend the night at your place?"

"Uhh, yeah, sure. My parents would be okay with that."

I sighed with relief. "Thank you."

"No worries, man. And hey, the concert is tomorrow, so you can stay here through the weekend too if you want."

"Yeah, yeah, let's do that. I'll be there soon."

"Cool, Marín. See you soon."

I hung up and flipped my phone shut. With a new sense of relief, I got up and started putting myself together. I tied my hair messily and tucked most of it into a beanie and dressed in a simple band t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans. I didn't really put much thought or care into what I packed for the sleepover. I just tossed clothes into a small duffle bag until I thought it was enough. I made sure to bring my discman and my hairbrush, though, and of course my toothbrush. After I pulled on a pair of arm warmers and my black zip up hoodie, I headed downstairs.

Only my mother was home at that point, which was strange, since she usually worked 9-5. I didn't pay her any mind, though, as I laced up my knee high converse. She looked at me, though in silence as the TV mumbled in the background. Just as I was heading out the door, she called me. "Mija."

I stopped and looked at her. "Yeah?"

She glanced back at the TV. "Where are you going?"

"Just to Ava's. I'm gonna stay with her through the weekend."

She nodded slowly. "You're going to that concert in the city tomorrow too, right?"

"Yeah, I am." I was mildly taken aback. Usually she wouldn't remember things like this. "What about it?"

My mother stood up from her seat and headed over to her desk. She fished around in the drawer for a moment before pulling something out and walking over to me. She lifted up my hand and placed something that was cool, metal, and had a certain weight to it.

"Take this for me, okay? The city isn't safe."

I looked up at her. "What? You haven't done this before."

She turned away from me, a struggle evident in her demeanor in her ability to look directly at me. "Just take it."

I sighed. "Adiós, Mamí."

"Stay safe, mi amor." That pulled me into one last hesitation before I finally headed out the door.

The cold November air embraced me as I stepped outside. I suppressed a shiver as I headed for the bus stop. I forgot the thing that my mother handed me until I sat down near the back of the bus. I'd been clenching it more tightly than I intended, and it started to hurt. When I uncurled my hand, I was met with the sight of a brass metal handle with floral engravings. It was a knife. And a switchblade, at that. I pulled the switch with one finger and it snapped open, making me flinch. As I pushed it closed, I couldn't help but wonder why today, of all days, my mother decided to give me this. It wasn't the first time I'd gone to the city for a concert, but it was the first time she told me to stay safe. Maybe she knew what had happened last night. Maybe this was her way of keeping me safe when she couldn't otherwise.

I shook the thoughts from my head and tried to think about something else. I flipped open my phone and began clicking through my contacts again, deleting ones that I no longer used. In that moment, I wished I had Javier's phone number. Surely things would be better if I could talk to him whenever I liked. Maybe next time I'd see him I'd ask.

The bus arrived at my stop, and I stepped off onto the concrete street. I suppressed a shiver and followed the memorized route to Ava's place. Her house was on the more run-down side of town. She lived just with her mother most of the time, with her father working overseas. They didn't have a lot of money. I'd been to her place loads of times before whenever she wanted to have sleepovers, but I'd never let her over to mine. Ava's house was a town home that sat on the other side of a block of abandoned and condemned buildings. I'd heard rumors that they were intending on building an apartment complex in place of them, of which Ava was not very fond of. She told me that it would throw off the vibe of the entire neighborhood if they did, and that she would much rather spend the night in one of the abandoned houses than watch the apartment complex be built.

I rang the doorbell when I arrived on her front doorstep, my shaking hands pressing the button for a second time. I shoved my hands in my pockets, and waited for Ava to come and open the door for me. The inside door swung open, and I was met with a bright smile. Ava had tied her hair back and was wearing a loose t-shirt with a pair of skinny jeans, and bright socks with colorful figures on it. She pushed the screen door open and gestured for me to come inside. "Come in," she said. "I told my mom you'd be over, and she baked some muffins for us!"

I smiled and stepped inside, Ava closing the door behind me. "Really?"

She nodded. "She had to go into work, but they're cooling in the kitchen right now if you want some." After she locked the door, she placed her hands on her hips. "My mom won't be back until later, so we've got the house to ourselves. What would you like to do? I got a bunch of random movies on DVD at Goodwill the other day. I'll bet that most of them are awful, so we could do that, if you want."

I shrugged. "Sure, I'm up for anything really."

"Awesome! Come on." She gestured for me to follow as she walked in the direction of the kitchen. I hurriedly kicked my shoes off and walked after her.

The air was thick with the smell of freshly baked goods. My mouth watered at the sight of the tray of chocolate chip muffins resting on the stove, warm heat rising off of them. While Ava was busy getting soda from the fridge, I grabbed a pair of muffins, stuffing one in my mouth. It was hard to describe how much better that made me feel.

Ava held out a soda to me. "It feels like it's been forever since we last had a sleepover," she said. "I didn't think you'd ever ask for one since your...thing. You know, with Javier."

I took the soda from her and opened it, taking a long sip from the can, the fizzy drink burning satisfyingly in my throat. "Come on, I'd never forget about you. After all, we're going to a concert tomorrow too."

She took a sip from her own drink, staring thoughtfully at the matte counter top. "I know. I just get scared like that sometimes. He's all you talk about anymore."

I considered Ava's words, replaying them in my mind, and then thinking back to the past few weeks. Had I really been so wrapped up in Javier that I'd forgotten my best friend? Guilt coiled in my chest. "Yeah...I'm sorry about that," I said. I lowered my gaze. "I'll try to be better about that, okay? No Javier talk today or tomorrow. I promise."

Her eyes lit up. "You mean it?"

I looked at her and smiled. "I mean it."

Ava took me by the hand and led me into the living room. "Come on, then. Let's watch some shitty movies."

___________________________________________________

I wasn't sure when I fell asleep that night, just a vague image of Ava and I sitting on the floor in front of the television in her living room. I awoke in the morning, cuddled up on the floor next to her wrapped in various blankets. The TV had been turned off, likely Ava's mother's doing, having come home late after we'd fallen asleep. I lay there contentedly, staring up at the popcorn ceiling overhead. A night with my best friend was just what I needed, and, admittedly, I'd started to miss her too. As much as the illogical part of me wanted to reject it, she was right. I had been thinking of Javier too much. I wanted to talk to him again, but not at the expense of giving up time I could be spending with Ava. She was actually someone who paid me any attention, and the good kind. That's what I appreciated her for.

Slowly, I got up, careful not to wake up Ava as I headed out of the living room and to the bathroom. It was early, before the time we needed to get up to go to school, so no one was awake yet. The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon, its golden sunlight casting brilliant rays in between the half-shut blinds. The house was mostly dark, otherwise. All of the lights were off and the curtains had been mostly shut. That's what you always do at night. I quietly shut myself in the bathroom and sat down on top of the closed toilet. I took a moment to breathe, giving myself another moment to wake up. The stiffness of sleep was still heavy in my body. Today was just another day. It was for the best that I avoid thinking about Javier, no matter how empty it felt without him. I owed it to Ava.

I stood up and stared at myself in the mirror, realizing how long it had been since I looked at myself. When my eyes met my own, it seemed as though I were looking at a stranger. Who was I, really? I never had much of an answer. Not even as a kid. My face felt like a mask that had been forced upon me. That my role in my life was just a very well played part. This idea had never entered my mind before, and suddenly it was all-consuming. Somehow, that seemed just right. If I was honest with my feelings, if I actually spoke to Javier, maybe I could find myself.

With a sigh, I shook my head and turned on the sink. I washed my face, thankful for the cold refreshing water against my skin. If anything else couldn't wake me up, I knew that would. I brushed out my hair, got dressed in some fresh clothes, and took another long look at myself in the mirror. I wasn't quite sure why, or what I was looking for, but the only thought I had left was I look too much like my mother.

I did my best to avoid Javier throughout the rest of the day. For the sake of Ava, and also for the sake of myself. I wasn't in any state to talk to him, or to watch as Kendall spoke to him with her unwavering confidence. Whether it was a good or bad day, it didn't really matter all that much. Without Ava, it might've been even more unbearable. Before I knew it, it was already evening, and we were getting ready to go into the city. I was with Ava in her bedroom, helping her pick out an outfit for the concert. She straightened her hair and teased it, before adding some black and pink extensions to her bangs. While she was doing her makeup, I put a CD into her stereo and played some music.

Ava grabbed a band t-shirt from her closet and held it up to herself in the floor length mirror hanging from her door. "What do you think of this? And I'll wear my frilly skirt with it, and those striped leggings you got me last Christmas."

I sat down in the chair beside her desk, and rolled it back and forth across the carpet, the wheels squeaking as I did. "Which skirt?" I asked.

She set the t-shirt down and picked up a gray skirt from the various assortment of clothes laid out on her bed. It was plaid, with lines of purple crossing it to match the grays and blacks. "This one."

She was already wearing the striped leggings, which were red and black. Every time I saw her wearing them, I wished I'd bought them for myself instead of her. With a long sigh, I shook my head. "Just wear your black leggings. They'll match better than the striped ones."

Ava looked down at herself, held the skirt up to her hips, and slowly nodded. "Yeah, you're right...Oh well! I guess I can just wear a plain skirt."

"Why do you wanna wear those leggings so badly?"

She looked at me and smiled. "Because you got them for me, of course." After a brief pause, she continued, "I just hate not using the things people get for me."

I shrugged and leaned back in the chair. "Okay."

As she put on her chosen outfit for the evening, she turned back to me. "Aren't you gonna dress up?"

"I don't really see any point in doing that," I said. "It's not like we're going to a party."

"You're no fun. Come here, let me do your hair at least," she said, sitting down on her bed. She patted the space next to her and gestured for me to come over. "It'll be super cool."

Reluctantly, I pulled myself out of the chair and sat down beside Ava. She pulled her hands through my hair, tugging it through the various tangles underneath. She grabbed a vent brush off of her nightstand and started brushing it out, trying her best to gently get all of the tangles out. My mother hadn't ever tried to be gentle before. When I was a child and still didn't know how to do my hair, she had a tendency to pull roughly. Each time ended with tears until I was old enough to look after myself.

Something about Ava's touch made me relax. Just her presence in general. There was always something so grounding about having her around. I could always count on her to pull me back to the present---to make me feel real, and those were the qualities you could count on in a best friend, and despite all of my bullshit, she still stuck around. She put up with all of it, for a reason I couldn't quite see. Was I really worth all of the trouble? Even if she cared about me, surely she'd get tired of it all eventually.

I didn't mind. I leaned into Ava's hand as she did my hair, closing my eyes in complete solace. Whatever reason it might've been, I was happy that she'd chosen to stay with me.

"Are you falling asleep?"

I sat up quickly, realizing that I was dozing off and that I'd been sinking into Ava's lap. I cleared the sleepiness from my eyes and turned around to look at her. "Yeah, sorry about that. I just got a little sleepy."

She snickered. "Hopefully you won't fall asleep on the way there." She grabbed a mirror from behind her and handed it to me. "What do you think?"

I lifted up the mirror and took a look at her handiwork. Ava had pulled my hair into a pair of ponytails, perfectly divided so that the dyed part of my hair was symmetrical in each. I giggled at seeing myself like this, a giddy feeling running through me. "Ah, this makes me feel like Misa from Death Note," I said. "Like, her hairstyle?"

"You just have to be blonde, and I'm sure you could look just like her." Ava stood up and straightened herself out. "Ready to go?"

I sighed and set the mirror down, pushing myself to my feet. "Yeah, let's get out of here."

After Ava gathered her things we headed out to the car and drove out of our little neighborhood. The venue was in the city, a thirty minute drive from where we lived, and it hadn't been the first time that we took the drive, but every time was different. Now, something felt somewhat unfamiliar. Not with the surroundings, or the route we took, but with the time itself. I thought it might've been the fact that I knew that this was senior year, and would likely be the last time we went to a concert like this for a while, but somehow it felt like it was more than that. Maybe it was just the anxiety from before, making me feel like something bad was going to happen, and that's what I hoped it was.

We parked in a mostly empty parking lot a couple of blocks away from the theater. This was mostly for the reason that parking on the street required payment, and even if we were alright with paying, the street all around the theater was completely filled up. We joined the line outside just before the doors opened and waited in thrilling anticipation of the show. I couldn't stand still, and maybe it was the cold, but all I could feel was the excitement coursing through me.

After we got inside the theater, we hooked our arms together and tried to squeeze through the crowd of people taller and bigger than us. The merch line was far too long at that point, but considering it was still the beginning of the night, we decided to get in line to see if we could buy anything before they ran out. I looked ahead of us at the people working the merch table, and I was just able to see their frantic fast-paced movements as they grabbed merch and handed it to the person as they paid. Because of this, the line moved faster than I thought it would, and we were at the front before we knew it.

When the show finally started, we had found ourselves right by the stage, held back only by the barricades. It was hard for me to process how amazing it was to see our favorite band face to face for the first time. A few times during the show, it felt almost like they were all looking right at me and Ava. This made me happy like nothing had in the past couple of days, and for this single blissful moment, I could forget all of my worries.

Come the end of the show, the momentary excitement began to fade as people emptied out of the building. Ava and I remained in the showroom until there were little to no people left and the employees began to clean up after everyone. We headed out together on the empty street, Ava still buzzing with the high of the show.

"Do you want me to drop you off at your house?" she asked, once we arrived at the car. "Or, do you wanna stay another night?"

I reached for my phone. "No, I---" I couldn't find my phone. I checked my bag and my pockets, once, twice, three times. For a moment I was filled with panic, before remembering that I must've dropped it on our way back to the parking lot.

Ava looked over at me. "What's the matter?"

"I think I dropped my phone." I glanced toward the sidewalk. "I'm gonna retrace our steps." I started heading back where we came.

"Want me to come with you?" Ava called after me.

I looked at her over my shoulder. "No, no, it won't take long!"

Briskly, I made my way down the street and around the corner where we came from, checking every inch of the damp and cold concrete. I found myself slowing down near the intersection, watching the empty street, the stop lights changing every so often. The street lights reflected off of the pavement, mirroring all of the shadows cast around me. There could be nothing more alien and unfamiliar than an empty city at night.

I moved my foot and hit my phone, sitting on the cold pavement. It skittered a few feet away from me, but was completely unharmed. Filled with relief, I stepped over to it and knelt down to pick it up.

"You must be lost, little girlie."

A chill ran down my spine. Slowly, I stood up, my phone in my trembling hand, and turned around to face the source of the voice. There stood a drunken man, who could've been anywhere from his late 20s to early 40s, looking down at me with an expression that frightened me to no end. A twisted grin was present on his face---I could see through it---it was not an inviting look of kindness, it was a terrifying sign of what exactly was on his mind.

I turned away and tried to go back where I came from. The parking lot wasn't far. "No. I'm not lost," I said. "I'm actually in a hurry."

Before I could get anywhere, he grabbed my shoulder, a strong grip that filled me with an unparalleled level of disgust, and yet, I couldn't make myself pull away. "Just hold on a minute. I'd like to get to know you." He turned me around and leaned close, his breath hot on my face. "You're really cute."

For that moment, I couldn't bring myself to resist. It felt like an eternity, standing there with his hand on my shoulder, knowing what he was about to do. But when my hand brushed my pocket, I remembered what I'd been given. He was reaching for my other arm when I snapped out of my daze. In a moment of impulse, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the switchblade that I had kept with me since my mother had given it to me. Without sparing a moment, I flicked it open and drove it toward the man in front of me. I felt a dull impact, then warm beneath my hand. He staggered, letting go of me, and we both looked down to the knife in my hand.

"Did you just---"

I withdrew the knife and stabbed him again. Blood gushed out of the wound, soaking his clothes and dripping to the ground. I almost didn't acknowledge the way it splattered onto my hands as I stabbed him the third and fourth time. After the sixth, he attempted to grab my hand and rip the knife away from me, but I quickly turned it around and shoved it through his palm. He let out a muffled groan of pain, and before he could react, I stabbed him again, this time in the leg, and used all of my strength to push him to the ground. I could see him growing pale. In the moment I took to look at him again, I realized how much blood I'd drawn, spilling out onto the dark street.

I stood over him, raised the knife once more, and drove it into his neck. Instead of ripping it out immediately, I turned it around in his throat, a squelching mess of sounds as blood shot out from his artery. I dragged the gash across the base of his neck, opening it wider and wider. He choked and gagged, coughing up more and more of his blood, staining his face red in the warm streelights and for a just a moment he made a weak attempt to push me away, before his arms fell to his sides and he stared up at me helplessly. His breathing slowed, quieted, and then stopped altogether. And my face and hands were covered in blood.

My heart was pounding out of my chest as I stepped away from the man's body. My hands trembled, to the point where I nearly dropped the knife. I managed to take a few deep breaths to steady myself, but I still couldn't process what had just happened: the world shaking in front of me and feeling less and less real by the moment.

I grabbed some tissues from my bag and wiped as much blood as I could from my face and hands, though I couldn't really see how much was left in this light. I stuffed them into an inside pocket and hastily walked away, having returned my knife to its place in my pocket. The parking lot came into view before long, and I could see Ava sitting in the driver's seat, waiting. When she spotted me, she unlocked the doors and waved at me. Quickly, I got into the passenger's seat and folded into myself.

Ava looked at me, tilting her head. "What's up?"

"Nothing, let's just go," I said, my voice flat and robotic.

She started the car and put on her seat belt. "Want me to take you home?"

I immediately shook my head. "No, let's go back to your place."

"Alright, whatever you say."

It was hard for me to focus on much of anything the entire drive back.