He pushes a key from his lanyard into the old and rusted deadbolt, sliding it to the side until there’s an audibleclick. “You’ll have to take your complaints up with my landlord, Nova.” A smile ghosts across his mouth, but it’s gone so quick you could convince me it was a hallucination caused by the little alcohol left in my system.
The door swings open and I take a peak in between the frame and Saint’s broad arms. Soft beiges and greens blur together before he finally gets out of the way, allowing me a better view. Mismatched pots full of different plants line the half wall off to the right of the door. To the left sits a simple oak breakfast table, complete with three matching chairs. The lighting is soft, not too dim but not too bright. A perfect amount of warm glow fills the space, creating a cozy atmosphere.It looks like a home.
“The bathroom is the first door on the left,” Saint starts off as he makes his way to the other side of the half wall. “I’ll be out here when you’re done cleaning up.”
“Thank you.” My voice comes out quieter than I mean for it too. I take one last glance around the room as he plops down onto the light brown sofa. I shouldn’t be here.
Without stalling I make my way into the bathroom. There’s no real character in here, besides the toad shaped soap dispenser. I smile down at the little ceramic piece as I try to imagine someone the likes of Saint using it to wash his hands. He’s a stark contrast to this apartment in general, but something about that toads just sets me off.
I peel off my soggy clothing, letting them into a pile on the floor. I kick them away from the bathmat, double checking that every inch of fabric is on the hard tile.I’ll make sure to ask Saint for cleaning supplies when I’m done,I think to myself.
With a deep breath I finally turn and face the mirror. My reflection stares back at me, but it’s not myself I see. There in front of me is little Nova. Her blonde hair is one giant rat’s nest, bruising around her hairline already becoming evident. Dried blood flakes off from her face, spotted around almost as if they were trying to match her freckles. Her big blue eyes are bloodshot and empty. My lip trembles as I hold eye contact with myself. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it out,” I whisper to her.
Before another meltdown can hit me, I step back from the mirror, sparing one last glance at her before turning on the shower. The steam quickly erases her from my sight and I decide to finally get cleaned off.
Gently I step into the shower, pulling the plastic curtain closed behind me. A shelf full of different body scrubs and soaps stands next to the showerhead. I’m tempted to use the peach scented ones but think better of it as the idea of Saint noticing hits me. He’s been more than generous considering how he’s been treating me since I came home. No need to push for more.
Instead I let the hot water do its work, letting it cascade down my body and wash the night down the drain. With a light pinkhue to it, I watch as the water swirls around the metal grate before disappearing into the pipes below. My body doesn’t move until the liquid runs clear and even then I find myself staying in place.
Leaving the sanctuary of this shower means coming face to face with reality. I won’t be able to avoid Saint, and come morning I’ll need to go home. Yet under the burning water I feel free of it all. My eyelids flutter shut and I rest my back against the cool wall. The pounding behind my eyes seems to slow down as I shut the world out. What once felt like a hammer bashing into my brain now feels more like I’m being jabbed with a pencil.
A light knock at the door pulls my head from the clouds. “Are you alright?” Saint’s voice calls out from the other side. I reach up to my face, wiping away some of the stray droplets that had covered my eyes.
“Yeah!” I call out, turning off the shower before stepping out.
“I forgot to bring you the clothes. I’m just going to leave them out here.” He pauses for a moment before speaking up again. “I’ll be out in the living room.”
Reaching forward I grab a folded towel off of the rack opposite to the toilet, covering myself quickly before responding. “Thank you.”
Giving him a few moments before I open the door, I look at myself in the mirror. Gone is little Nova, replaced by me once again. This time clean, although my hair could use a good brush through. I let out a sigh of relief at my return. The child in me scares me more than I’d like to admit. I couldn’t keep her safe. She had put her all into me, fighting to become our safe haven. I let her down.
With a light hand I push the door open, snagging the old t-shirt and black sweatpants off of the ground. They feelwarm,like someone had just pulled them out of the dryer. I slip the fabric over my body and make my way out to the living room.Saint had shut off the larger lights, leaving a small lamp in the corner on. The color reminds me of dawn, a simple light hue decorating the edges of the furniture.
“I got you a spare blanket and a phone charger. I’m not sure if you had yours or not.”
“I think I dropped it when-” I cut myself off, snapping my jaw shut as the sadness stings my eyes.
“It’s okay,” he starts off, stepping to the side so I have room to slide onto the couch. “I’ll call your mom in the morning and have her drop off some of your things.”
I give him a nod, afraid that if I speak I’ll just start to cry again. I gently crawl onto the couch, using the small blanket to cover my body. Saint looks down at me, no malice to be found.
“Why do you hate me now?” I ask as my voice cracks.
“I don’t, Nova.” He starts off, gently bending down until his lips graze my forehead. He places a gentle kiss before straightening back up. “I couldn’t. I’ve tried.”
I open my mouth to respond but he shakes his head slowly at me. Instead we hold each other's stare until sleep begins to take over me. My eyelids flutter as if they had individually gained a hundred pounds. Unable to keep them open much longer I take one more glance at Saint before I let them fall.
A faint whisper dances through the darkness of my mind. “I really fucking tried.”
Play New Perspective by Noah Kahan
I wake up with a jolt, my nightmare blurring with reality. I scan the room searching for my mother. I had just watched my father beat her to a bloody pulp.You need to save her!My inner voice screams at me. It’s not until the sleep has fully left my eyes that I’m able to recall where I am. The pounding of my heart slows steadily as I take in my surroundings.
In the light of day, I’m able to take in more details of Saint’s apartment. There’s a small television sitting on top of an old stand. Next to it is a pile of movies. Pulp Fiction, John Wick, The Last Samurai, and so on clutter the darkly stained wood. A smile tugs at my lips as I pull them in. In our younger years Saint had started a trend of sneaking into R-rated movies. He loved the action ones the most. Old habits die hard I guess.
My feet place themselves on the carpet below, carrying my weight as I walk towards the front door. The apartment is silent, and I’m hopeful I’ll be able to just sneak out. Melrose is a small town, and it shouldn't be more than a thirty minute walk home.
The door opens with a dragged outcreakand I wince at the sound. I perk my ears up as I listen for any new sounds. When it stays silent I deem it safe to leave, quickly heading out the front of the building.
