Being

2 - Tranquility

Tranquility (n) - calmness; peace; serenity

Fern awoke knowing what the day’s events were. There was no school and it was Paige’s birthday. It was a weird day when she didn’t have school. Something inside her felt off and terribly wrong.

Her entire body rolled over onto the floor, gathered in blankets, where she whimpered in pain.  Fern laid down a while, in stillness. She realized that she hadn’t changed since yesterday and got up to use the shower, letting the blankets fall from her body. Her feet treaded the hallway to the bathroom, since she hated taking showers. Fern was strange like that, despising the smallest things of everyday life.

Maybe it was because she didn’t do it every day. It was an oddity to her. It happened sparingly because of the lack of water pumped to her household. But she carried on, knowing her filth wouldn’t get her anymore productive than she would be without.

Fern entered the bathroom, where the horrible color palette consisting of dark blue and pink overwhelmed her. She hated her bathroom. It was too small and uncomfortable.

She undressed quickly, avoiding looking in the long mirror above the sink. Why were there so many mirrors in this damn household? She thought to herself. Fern hated that mirror, especially, because of its great length across her bathroom. It consumed most of one of four walls, and it was one she never faced directly.

Fern stepped foot into the shower, feeling the immediate relief of warm water tapping her shoulders and back. Though calming, her hands quickly found the bar soap, rubbing it all over her body. She rushed to get out as quickly as she could.

She stepped out not soon after, grabbing a towel to wrap around her body. Her wet footsteps left a hurried trail to her bedroom, where she locked the door. She found an appropriate outfit for a party, exchanging her towel for the dress.

The thought of the party re-entered little Fern’s mind. When she dreamed about it last night, her decision was final. She would go, of course, but interact only with Paige. Even if it was a joke, it was better to spend her time with the birthday girl than the idiots who thought it would be funny to invite the poor girl.

She dreamed about what Paige would look like. Surely, she had aged. Was her hair still the lustrous blonde bob Fern had always known? Did her eyes still widen at the sight of spiders?

Fern remembered small things about Paige not often. It was more of a wave of thought that came whenever Fern was in a situation that reminded her of Paige. Like when she saw any type of arachnid, Fern let the creature climb up onto her fingers, and thoughts of Paige emerged that have been long buried deep in her mind.

Suddenly, a thought came to the little girl. Why was Paige so scared of spiders? Her fear was never uncovered to the extent of why. She just was; there was no way around it.

Fern realized she was standing in front of her desk, gliding her finger along a picture frame of all three of her friends together. Tanner was still chubby but cuter and younger. He stood next to Fern and had his arm around her and Paige. Paige stood on the other side of him, smiling brightly, enjoying Tanner’s hand on her shoulder. Fern, however, looked emotionless. She hated being touched by Tanner. She hated having to be away from Paige.

The picture had become engraved in Fern’s room. It was just there; as it always has been. It had been glossed over by Fern’s traumatizing experiences, and then having to start anew. Like ripping off a band-aid, she always found a way to cope and solemnly place another one on. The picture was like the rest of her room - just a setting for her to think. But Fern never looked at it for this long; the painful memories of her childhood coming to light. The band-aid had been ripped off again, and as usual, Fern placed the picture down to find the means to forget about it.