Chronic Morality

Chronic Morality

The dainty pitter patter of Lovelle’s roof as rain slid off of it was lulling me to sleep. These days, all I could think about was darkness. Consequently, it left me with three hours of sleep every night. One, two, three, deep breaths, come on, Isla.

“Keep your head up child,” said Lovelle. All attempts to fight my slumber were failed, as my body bobbed in Lovelle’s thinking pool. The candlelight reflecting all surfaces, the warm water submerging all of my limbs, and the white noise of rain filling my ears was torture. It was as if I was starving and in front of me laid a table spread that I couldn't eat.

“Isla, come on. We’re in a lesson!” exclaimed Lovelle, protesting my fatigue.

Before I could fight my sleep, I began to fall into a rest so deep, I could physically feel my brain forcing me to sleep. My ears began leaking something warm, and the air grew thick. All of a sudden, I was transported to the chilled elevator of my mother’s office.

God, no, not this again. Directly in front me was Enzo, the new employee my mom hired in place of her assistant. The sound of the snap of the thick elevator chord rung in my ears. As the elevator descended to the bottom, flying, Eric began panicking.

“Please, help us!” He screamed. He began pacing, looking at me over and over, as though implying that I could be of any help.

“Enz-!” I yelped as he whipped out a blade from his pocket. He worked quickly. As the elevator his the bottom floor, he started prying open the sleek silver doors. They opened with a fight, but he managed to insist I leave first. In a silent protest, I did it anyway. Lifting me by the hand, I pushed off of the ground and slid through.

“Okay, Enzo, stay calm, I’m gonna go get somebody.” I managed to stutter out, as my fear devoured my insides. Grabbing me by my belt loop, Enzo yanks me back.

“Listen, kid, I’m not saving you so that you can't save me in return.” His breath reeks, and his arms are refusing to let me go, despite my small screams.

“Help me up, kid.” is all he says.

Reaching out my arms, Enzo begins to push off the floor, into the escape crevice.

Just as his shoulders push their way through, the elevator tumbles to the last level. Feeling the hot, sticky blood on my face, I see Enzo, and his head and shoulders. The rest of him he's gone, I’ve come to realize, holding back tears and vomit, I release a scream that even the deepest pits of hell haven't heard.

   Slowly, my senses are coming back. My head is ringing, and I can smell puke all throughout the tiny, wet temple. Lovelle is standing above me, hands on her hips.

“Care to tell me why you keep doing this?”

I confess in Lovelle, telling her that all I can see is Enzo’s death, repeatedly, and since, I can dance everything from oghogho, tango, ballroom, and dances of many tribes in between Africa. It’s as though I have his gift of dance. I’m conflicted in every which way. I knew this was dangerous, and I should have remained in the elevator. And yet- all I could wish to do is to share my newfound talent with everybody. If Enzo’s death gives me power, do I have the potential to change the world? As these thoughts rumble through my head, Lovelle shrugs in a sinister way. I see her eyes light up, and I wish I would have bitten my tongue. She tells me,

“Honey if you have to watch a man die to get what you need to excel, go for it and never ever look back. I won’t tell anyone if you need. Lord knows you’re already at a disadvantage in this society.” So I do what I must.

   Leaving Lovelle’s I think about what’s right. Am I a good person for trying to help? Or am I horrible, because despite knowing the risks, I let Enzo escape anyway? I feel knots build up inside me and all I can think about is how far will this lead. My thoughts are interrupted as a small boy is working in the alleyway. He’s got a wrench in his hand, which suggests that he works at Otto’s repair shop. I probably shouldn’t bother him, I’m sure he's working for his parents, so I avoid him.