Consumed

Chapter 4: Meri

The bus squeals to a stop in front of my dilapidated house, and I make my way to the front of the bus. No one says anything as I get off, moving slowly now. My outburst earlier has left me stiff. I think I opened a few of the fresher wounds too.

But the physical ailments aren't the worst. My emotional pain is by far the worst of it. I can barely hold back the tears as I run up the slippery steps, nearly losing my footing as I rush into the house. Warm air blasts into my face as I shove open the door and drop my backpack on the pitted tabletop in the kitchen. Then I sink down into the rickety chair at the table and bury my head in my arms as I sob.

What am I supposed to do? They told him my real name... He'll probably come looking for me like Millie did. And it'll get him hurt too.

Desolation sweeps over me as a weak ray of sunshine finds its way in through the window and spills onto the kitchen floor. I stare at it, feeling as cold and chilled as the light looks on the kitchen floor. The smell of cigarettes and vodka lingers in the air from this morning. The scent of dying roses from Mom's last date floats about with it, making a nauseating smell of decay and endings. Really, every new beginning in this house is just an ending in disguise. An ending waiting to happen. Nothing ever lasts. Even I won't last. Someday, I'll snap, and everything will end for me too.

***

I wake up a few hours later around the time that I have to start dinner. Despite the two hour nap, I still feel exhausted and miserable. Snow is coming down outside in full force, the flurries blowing against the window forcefully.

Stretching, I get up and move my backpack to its usual spot in the linen closet. Dinner... What did Mom want me to make? Checking the note on the fridge, I see that she wants ravioli tonight. Sighing, I shrug. At least that's relatively easy. She can't be too mad at me if she asked for this.

The ravioli are still frozen, so I shove them into the microwave first to thaw them a bit. Then I put them into a pot to cook and set the whole thing on the stove. Then I dig through the cupboards for sauce and put that into our only other pot. With that done, I settle into my spot at the kitchen table to do my homework. Math homework is so tedious, but I have to get all of this stuff done.

Fifteen minutes later, a knock sounds on the front door just as I open my English homework. Who could it be? Mom isn't supposed to be back for another ten minutes. She's never early. Usually, she's on time or late. I'm never really sure which it'll be.

Sighing, I get up and abandon my English homework to get the door. If Mom gets back and finds out that I left one of her friends hanging out in the cold, I'm going to be in a whole lot of trouble. Better to open the door and find out who it is.

Milan stands there, shivering in the wind that howls through the area. I freeze, unable to form words or move. He can't be here! He has to leave... I... Mom's going to be really mad if she finds out he's come here.

"Meri?" Milan wraps his arms around himself and smiles tightly. "C-can I come in? It's c-cold out here..."

I shake my head, trying to shut the door on him. "N-no..." My voice shakes as much as his, and I'm not even out in the freezing cold. But a chill washes over me as I watch him watch me.

He sticks a foot in the crack before I can slam the door shut in his face. "Meri, I just wanted to talk to you. Why won't you let me in?"

"Go a-away," I hiss, stumbling over words in my haste to make him go.

"I'm not leaving. I walked all the way here from school, and I know there's something wrong. You don't cut... I know you don't, and those bruises aren't from falling. So what's going on?" His eyes fix on the room behind me, and I cringe, knowing that the broken bottle of vodka from this morning is still sitting in plain view. There's no way he could miss it.