Enemy Fire | J. Saltzman - Legacies [3]

S I X

Taylor Price has had a bad day. More like a bad year, but today has been terrible. She woke up in the morning already feeling drained and out of it, but she forced herself up anyways (stupid, Taylor). The usual day at school resulted in seeing quite a few fights in the cafeteria, not that she participated, as well as two tests. Her gig at the cafe came with three separate guys that tried to get her phone number. Only one was actually creepy today, but she took care of him when he followed her out.

Guys really need to mind their own business. Or even just learn to respect women.

Sitting at her kitchen table alone doesn't help. The ramen steaming in front of her is the only warm thing in the studio apartment other than the two pictures she has buried in her bag. Sometimes, she brings them out and places them at the empty seats just to see their faces.

Night brings her loneliness to a whole new level she didn't think possible before. She distracts herself with homework, but the darkness seeping in through the windows does not help. Taylor just closes the blinds and turns on her desk lamp.

Sometimes, she calls Maya, pretends to be the person she desperately wants back. The other girl never fails to calm her soul with her useless talk of boys, girls, and drama. Hearing her normal life makes her feel like she can have it too. Until they get off the phone, and Taylor finds herself back in her lonely apartment, all alone.

It all feels more like a dream than reality. This terrible situation she finds herself stuck in. She got herself into this mess; she can live with the consequences.

Taylor wishes she could be who she once was—the girl before all of the pain. Some say pain makes you stronger, but Taylor can't quite agree yet. Even just looking in the mirror, seeing the face of someone now long gone...every moment without them is just as painful as when she woke up.

But they're safer now. That is the thought that keeps her going. They're safe now without all the danger that comes with her. Taylor can live with that for as long as she needs to, especially with the daily phone calls to her parents. She wouldn't be able to do this without them.

Getting into bed, she does not know why she is crying as she does each night. Her pillowcases taste like her tears each morning, but who is she to judge? She just stares at the wall, the ceiling, the desk—anything in sight—with tears slipping down her cheeks silently with the occasional shudder. It's been a hard month.

She can still feel something tugging at her chest beneath all the heaviness resting on her shoulders. Like a cat forever sitting on her lungs, no matter how much she tries to move it, it never disappears. It never lessens. It never leaves her alone.

Taylor always has a candlelit beside her. Yes, she knows it's a safety risk, but the dark is too cunning. Besides, she can deal with fire; she cannot deal with the dark again. Not after last time. She finds herself staring at the candle tonight, watching the flames flicker against the dark room, almost inviting her into the orange hues surrounding the inner blues just at the wick. Taylor wishes she could live in that flame instead of this world. No wars brewing. No guilt over exes or leaving. No memories of the people she hurt along the way.

When the flame burns out, the candle now just wax, Taylor reluctantly pulls herself up from her pillows and runs a hand down her face. Grasping at her phone, she reads 3:41 and groans. Her feet press against the cool ground as she makes her way to the bathroom, feeling the wall for the light switch before flinching away.

She places her phone beside her as she splashes her face with frigid water from the tap. Wiping off any excess water, she places her palms against the counter, letting her chest fall between them as she stares directly into the sink.

It takes a long time for her to finally lift her eyes to look into the mirror. Usually, she despises what looks back at her: her own eyes so drained of life, the hallowed cheekbones from her tenure submerged in darkness. But today a different image stares back at her.

A person that makes her stumble back with a shout, falling over into her tub. The shower curtain falls on her, but the pain is nothing compared to the panic in her soul. She scrambles back up to her feet only to find her own image staring back at her once again as she slowly approaches the mirror. "What the hell?" She whispers to herself, gently dragging her fingers over the glass.

The image shimmers before her eyes: one half is still her, but the other side isn't right. It's not Taylor's eye, it's hers. It's not Taylor's midnight hair, it's her shimmering brown. And Taylor's hand definitely isn't reaching out anymore.

A name she only hears from her family and Maya seeps into her ears. She shakes her head but her mirror image does not follow. "This can't be happening," she whispers as she stumbles a step back.

Two men appear deeper into the mirror, both grinning and staring right at her. The scared one stands behind her while the other places a hand on the other girl's shoulder. Taylor watches as the scarred one reaches out. Something grabs her shoulder.

She wakes up panting with sweat plastering her hair to her skin. Racing to relight the candle, all it takes is a flick of her wrist before a new flame appears just hovering above the melted wax. Her legs press against the cool ground as she kneels before the flame, letting it flicker in her eyes as she tries to breathe. Without hesitating, she grabs her phone and presses a button, instantly pressing it to her ear.

The call picks up on the second ring.

"Are you ok?"

She sighs at his voice, still trying to calm her heartbeat. "I-I'm sorry, I just—I just wanted to hear your voice."

She hears something move through the phone; perhaps he is now standing. "Did you have that dream again?"

"He's getting closer." Her voice wavers. "I can feel it."

"Do you want Mom or I to—"

"No, that's not why..." She shakes her head. "Maybe I shouldn't have called."

"Stella." Her name stops her cold. "You can always call for any reason. You know that. I just...I don't like that you're scared and there's nothing we can do."

"Tell me about it."

"Just one day at a time, right? That's what Mom says. Baby steps."

She nods, crawling back into bed and clutching at her sheets. "Can you stay on until I fall asleep?" She asks, clenching her jaw.

"Of course."

"Can you sing?"

He pauses as she waits. "You are my sunshine." His voice has always been so different from her mother's. It's always a rare occasion when her father sings, but she couldn't be happier about it now. "My only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away."

For those who might be confused, yes, Taylor = Stella. 

Are you guys liking the memes? Because every time I make one, I start laughing to myself hoping they have the same effect.

Hope you enjoyed!

-L