The Girl Who Felt The World

Maddy's Christmas

Maddy sat on a worn deck chair, her drink resting on the glass table, a cigarette dangling loosely from her fingers. Across from her, Sade lounged in a similar position, exuding a casual ease as smoke curled around them.

Jenny, elusive as ever, flitted in and out of the scene - a ghost in their orbit, never fully present. She existed on the periphery of Maddy's world, a fleeting figure who barely registered.

This was the rhythm of Maddy's new reality: soaking in the late summer sun, part of the group on the surface, a fixture in the units. Sade slyly poured more cheap vodka into their orange juice, the ratio tipping towards more vodka than juice.

Tara had been drawn out by the presence of the boys from another unit. She gestured wildly, locked in animated conversation with the shy, withdrawn Gee, whose black shaggy hair flopped down over his face.

The ever-present figure of Ayden, short and stocky, rested on the wooden steps in front of Sade, the sun glinting off his blonde hair. The air hummed with chatter and humour, lifted by Ayden's latest contribution: a stash of pot the girls had quickly hidden away for later. It was the reason the often-annoying boy was tolerated, despite his constant and direct flirtation.

These moments made life tolerable - when they could forget, when they could just be. The sun and alcohol made the world seem less harsh and less real.

Tara's screeching, obnoxious laugh cut through the relaxed atmosphere, and Maddy inwardly scoffed at Tara's attempts to flirt with Gee. She took a drag from her cigarette, her gaze drifting over the group with detached interest, observing them as if from a distance. It was as if she were floating above, looking down on a scene, a spectator in her own life.

Gee slowly and discreetly backed away from Tara, his gaze shifting nervously as he avoided her eager glances. Maddy's lips curled into a subtle smile, her pulse quickening as she turned her focus toward Gee. The thrill of the unspoken competition with Tara filled her with giddy satisfaction.

As Tara's laughter faltered, Maddy leaned forward slightly, catching Gee's eye. The way his attention shifted toward her, almost instinctively, sent a ripple of pleasure through her. It was more than just winning; it was the power she held at that moment, the knowledge that with a few calculated moves, she could steer the game in her favour.

Watching Gee's uncertain glances and Tara's growing frustration, Maddy felt a rush of control wash over her. It wasn't just about winning; it was about the subtle dance of influence, the way she could nudge people like pieces on a board. That power made her feel secure as if in controlling others, she could somehow keep her own life from spinning out of control.

Tara's rude and abrupt disinterest towards Maddy slowly morphed into outright jealousy and disdain. Each day in the units was a clone of the last - a monotonous cycle, broken only by the fleeting, self-made joy from pot and alcohol.

Over the next few weeks, life unfolded in a predictable pattern.

The group moved through the aisles of the grocery store, baskets clutched in their hands as the support workers hovered nearby, offering half-hearted advice on healthy eating. Sade nudged Maddy, pointing out the cheapest vodka on the shelf with a cheeky grin.

In the cramped meeting room, the workers droned on about coping strategies, their words barely registering. Maddy sat in her usual spot, staring blankly ahead, nodding whenever someone glanced her way. Tara fidgeted beside her, Sade rolling her eyes whenever the workers turned their backs.

They walked down the street together, the sun beating down on the pavement. Sade handed Maddy a bottle of water, her smile lazy and relaxed. They strolled in sync, saying little, finding comfort in the shared silence.