LILY WHITE

THREE

LILLIE
   

    I wake up a couple hours later and the sun is beginning to set. The sleep didn't help anything and I am still so nauseous and I somehow awake more nervous.

    It's like the weight has hit me right in the stomach and my only thought is about Tommy.

    Why, God, why? Why are there so many questions that will remain unanswered forever?
My hands come up to my face and I stifle a groan, I am silenced by my own body. I hate moments like this because I feel crazy. I feel crazy because I wonder why I think into things too much, it was one simple action and it kills me, it stabs my heart and leaves me bleeding out and I'm recycling my own blood to survive.

I have to go outside.

My parents bought Tommy and I bikes when we were 12 so we could get out of the house while they left for "adult trips". We used them, but separately, we never went anywhere together. Tommy only uses it to go to the shops, I use mine to clear my head.
I change into a tank top and some shorts, I put my shoes on quickly. My bike is at the front of the house on the driveway, no one hears me leave.

I start riding onto the sidewalk and making the journey to the market. It's a short ride, I don't know what I need from the market, but I figure that I'll find something. I just need a distraction.

I ride through neighborhoods and train tracks, I ride on paths and roads, I take the longer way this time. It's almost night time by the time I get to the market. The sunset still lingers in the sky, but it's prone to be overtaken by the darkness ahead.

I've been going here for a long time, the city market. I used to walk when I was 10, when I got my bike I started coming for often, usually for candy or fun toys I could find. I've known the owner since diapers.

Isaiah has always been an interesting character. He's older than dinosaurs and he has long white dreadlocks that go down to his shoulders. He only wears polo shirts and slacks. He's ridiculously giddy.
My bike is set against the wall and locked on a bar, I go inside and immediately recognize the familiar face on the front counter.

"Lillie! How are you doing today, sweetcheeks?" Isaiah talks in an African accent and his enthusiasm never fails to make me smile.

"Hey, Isaiah." My hand goes up in a wave for his greeting.

This market is a place of comfort, some kind of refuge, everything about it is oddly comforting. The lights wash everything out in a green shade at night, the refrigerators buzz so loud that I can't hear myself think. It smells of smoke.

The candy aisle is my safe spot, where I always go to in the market. I always pick a nutty chocolate, this time I decide to buy a pack of M&Ms. I come to the conclusion that I also need a pack of gum and I grab a magazine.

I also decide to try something new.
"Could I have a pack of Camel Golds?"

"Now, ain't you, like, 13?"

I shake my head and grimace. My curiosity gets the better of me. "I'm 19, out of all people you should know that."

Isaiah shrugs and gets the cigarettes from the wall behind him, his hair swings behind him.

I panic. "I'm 15."

Isaiah looks back at me from behind his shoulders,
he shrugs again and puts the pack on the counter.
I've always known Isaiah was a little out of it, but not this much. Can't he see that I've picked up some candy and a fashion magazine? Why would I want a pack of cigarettes?

I only knew what to get because of my father, he strictly only smokes Camel Golds. My mother once told me that he had gotten her hooked when they were younger, but she stopped before they had me.
My father was a raging alcoholic before I was born, before life got too serious. My mother used to tell me that he would go clubbing and come home half passed out. She said that he quit and turned to smoking in law school.

"$13.56, but for you, I'll make it an even $13" Isaiah grins so wide as he demands my money with his hand.

"I'd like a bag." Isaiah's smile immediately fades when the words escape my mouth. He bags my things while I count my money. He puts the cigarettes in last. Then he demands the money again, no smile this time, I give it to him obediently.
Before I know it I'm walking out of the city market with a pack of cigarettes and some candy, I feel like a child.

It's already night when I make it out, taking the short way is the only option because the streets are scary when it's dark out, it only takes five minutes for me to get back home.

I make it to the muted yellow building that is my house and step inside to, again, no attention, only a glance in my direction and a smile from Sarah. I can only wonder why Tommy isn't home.
            -
The next few hours are filled with silence. Everyone has moved outside to our back porch which overlooks the ocean. I can see why they'd like it there, the view is unbelievable. The water shines against the moon and I wish that I could live in the lines that separate the water and the sky.

I spend my time reading books, analyzing poetry, reading my magazine that turned out to be incredibly dispassionate. I look at my clock and it's 12am.

I ponder for a second, look at my market bag, look at my window, and I stand up to open it. I take the bag with me as well as a lighter. Everyone is asleep, I climb to the roof below my window, my feet shocked by the cold surface.

For some reason I can't seem to get myself to open the bag.