Human - phan

Twenty One

 I'd got it all wrong. My subconscious knew what was up, but I'd been ignoring it. My theories had all been so farfetched and loosely based. How did I not see it earlier? I couldn't to accept the truth that had been right in front of me the whole time. So I'd over-thought things until I found a vaguely plausible solution.

Phil was addicted to cocaine, and had been since Jamie died.

It made sense. The facts clicked into place with an undeniable sense of certainty. Driven mad with guilt and loneliness in a new college with no friends, he turned to drugs. And, when finally it seemed he had someone again and didn't need them anymore, he went to meet his dealer Jakob – only this time it was to tell him he was giving up.

Jakob had never been intending to sell to Phil that day, he was already so through with coke. So instead, he asked Phil if he would help him. But Phil said no, because of me. He was staying clean for me. Jakob died because of me. Not Phil.

But hadn't I just proven I wasn't good enough for Phil? Hadn't he just broken up with me? What if he went back to it, found another dealer... He was hurting. More than I could possibly imagine. I kneaded my face with my knuckles. I'd never heard him cry like that before, but I bet he did when Jamie died, when he had to go into school and face the stares, when he took his first hit...

I tugged my fingers through my hair so viciously it brought tears to my eyes, but I was glad. I deserved it. The bus stopped. I got off. I decided to do what I always do. Avoidance, if only for an hour.

I stumbled to the dance studio blinking back tears.

Today there was no time for technique, I needed to move.

My head cleared as the music started. Now was not a time for thinking.

*

You're evil. I screamed to myself as I pushed my body high into the air, the twist of guilt materializing as a turn mid-air, my spine contorting as I contracted at the core. I landed heavily but I didn't feel any pain, pushing off almost immediately from the floor into another run. Phil's tears. I span on the spot, falling and crumpling at the knees to roll. Guilt made me jump and twist, trying to break free. Pain made me turn and fall.

Fear contracted every muscle in my body.

Hatred pushed me on with a vicious anger. I couldn't have slowed if I tried.

As each emotion gave way in turn to exhaustion, Miss Jodie turned the music off.

"Better?" She asked, surveying me with a scrutinizing frown.

I nodded, too breathless to speak.

"Please let me know if you feel like that again in advance, so I can bring a camera." She murmured as she held the door open for me.

My heart was pounding and I flopped completely limp onto the bench in the changing room. As I slung my bag weakly off the rail I reached automatically for my phone, pulling the straps of my leotard down over my shoulders as I tapped it awake.

4 Missed calls: Knuckles –DO NOT ANSWER!!

I froze. My head started to swim.

I didn't need this, not now. Not ever.

Panicked, I tossed my phone into my bag again and stripped, tugging on my jeans in a frenzy. I hadn't even made it to the changing room door before my phone was buzzing again. Quickly, I pressed to reject the call.

I was out onto the street, the chill night air sending shivers over my sweaty skin. I was fighting the compulsion to run, forcing my head to think instead. Clearly Knuckles wasn't going to just give up. I had two options: continue to ignore him, and wait for him to find me. Or, answer. See what he had to say. Listen to his threats and probably shit myself.