Chrysalis

Chapter 2 - Hold Me Down

Chapter 2 - Hold Me Down

Back home was a deafening peace. With a monotonous voice, my mother asked me how my first day was. I answered good, as usual, and then made my way to my room.

On my phone, I had a missed call from Alex and two texts, one from Hannah and one from Elora Mulligan. I checked the text from Hannah first.

Hannah: Thought you might enjoy this. Twitter - @clarkclarkson instagram - @octodaddy.

I assumed these were the handles for Greg/Clark's social media. I thanked her and assured her I had no interest. I was lying.

Second, I called Alex back. He answered after two rings.

"Hey, I just wanted to see how the first day went," he said.

"It was... good. Better than St. Aug's for sure. They've got an amazing music program, I had no clue."

"Oh really? Well I know you'll be all over that. And hey, if you need rides to school or back or anything just let me know. I don't work till later now."

"No it's okay, I think..." I thought about the awkward ride to school that morning with my mother, where she kept her face stone cold and only said something to ask if I had forgotten to pack it. "Actually, what are you doing tomorrow morning..."

"Driving you to school, hun," he assured.

"Thank you. I owe you!"

"You don't owe me anything. You're like my little sister, I gotta take care of you."

Little sister was an interesting way to describe our relationship, especially after the summer we had together. Alex was good to me, not like a protector, but like a partner in crime. When I got into trouble over the summer, we both did. We were down for anything, which made us chaotic. But now that we had responsibilities, now that we had positive distractions, it was different. I knew he'd be watching out for me, making sure I didn't fall off the wagon. His summer was routine, it was a game for him. He knew when to stop, when to turn it off, but I didn't. The summer was a binge. It was anarchy and lawlessness for me.

"I'll text you, I got a few things I gotta do right now. See you tomorrow, Alex."

"Bye, Virv. Stay soft." and then he hung up.

Next to check was Elora Mulligan's text to me.

Elora: First day wasn't the same without you. I forgot I wouldn't be able to see your makeup-of-the-day. Made me kind of sad :( .

I smiled at the text. We had talked sparsely and briefly over the summer, but we made an effort to stay in touch.

Virvanna: You'll survive without me. You're Elora. Come see me soon, I have lot's to tell you.

That was one thing I didn't need to miss about St. Aug's. I could still see the friends I had without it, I could still find out what's going on without being there. Anything else I left behind was dead weight.

This was too much emotion and nostalgia for the hour, and I needed a break.

"I'm going on a walk," I yelled down to my parents. "Turn my phone tracker on if you have to, I don't care. I'll be back."

"You know, we wouldn't have done that if you didn't leave for days so often and go who knows where," my mother said.

"Yeah, yeah. But I always come back alive, so." I searched drawers in the kitchen for a pair of earphones.

"You're going out wearing that? When will you be home?" my mother nagged.

"I don't care, and I don't know. Before midnight. Maybe." I made sure the door slammed on my way out. It wasn't that I was angry at them, they were just doing what they thought parents were supposed to. But it seemed that when I needed them most, when I really needed them to protect me, they'd rather protect themselves first.

I plugged each bud into my ears and breathed for a few seconds. Oftentimes, my anxiety would make me lose track of what I was in the middle of doing. I could have it in front of me, like I did with my open Spotify app now, and have no clue what it was doing there.

After a while of trying to find my concentration again, I pressed play and walked.

Neighbours passed in their expensive cars, honking or waving as they slowed down to greet me. I smiled lightly at the ones who did, though I wanted to ignore all of them. There was one week over the summer where my parents put out a neighbourhood watch for me, worried everyone within a three block radius for nothing. I was hours away, so they wasted their time. I was sure the neighbours resented me for it now— for wasting their time— and I was in no mood to deal with the scolding of an adult who has no business being in my life.

Everyone here wore white. White cars, white doors on their houses, white picket fences, all in the hopes of making their lives seem like peace and grand could come in the same package. No one here was at peace. Someone always wanted a divorce, or had a kid buying weed for twenty per gram cause rich kids don't know any better, or maybe they just hated their neighbour. Everyone always wants something, but the people here walk into their own messes hoping that somehow theirs will be different. It never is.

Roses Park and Bridge was where I went over the summer when my parents put the tracker on. There was a red bridge over a swamped river, wide enough for one car to pass over but definitely not strong enough, and a path that began to break into a dirt rod right before a forrest area began. The path went in circles around the park and waved between random spots where short, skinny trees grew sparsely.

I went to the forrest, between half broken branches, over fallen logs, and through puddles from the storm the night before, until I reached the spot that my maps had told me was directly in the centre of it all. I had never brought many people here. Alex had come a few times with me, and he helped me set up a circle of logs to sit on and a bonfire in the middle. One night we had even hung up Christmas lights from the trees and a tarp and said we'd move out here and live off ramen we cooked in rain water. I asked why we didn't just buy water when we bought the ramen, and he told me it's more forrest-y with rain water.

Smiling at the memory, I began gathering twigs and logs we set aside for bonfires. They were damp from the storm, but I always kept an emergency flask in my backpack. I poured a bit over the pile in the pit and added some recycled paper I had taken from the bin without my parents noticing. If I had, they probably would have asked if I was using it to roll weed or make meth or something. They always thought the worst of me now.

Then I pulled out my bedazzled lighter and set fire to the pile.

It lit quickly, with blue hues underneath the yellows, and I watched it until it was nothing but an orange blaze.

I laid back on the log and pulled out a sweater for my head. I didn't want to sleep, just meditate for a bit. The lick of the flames to the sky was hypnotizing. It allowed me to get lost in my thoughts for a while. I didn't have to think, I could just let my thoughts roll by aimlessly.

I should have purple hair next. Unicorns are purple sometimes. Maybe if I make my room unicorn themed I would be happier.

I woke up to cold. September brought warm days with a light breeze and nights that made you forget summer even existed.

The time on my near-dead phone read that it was half-past seven. My shirt had dirt and twigs stuck to it, but my face was imprinted with the sweater I had fallen asleep on.

I checked my phone again, and say eight missed texts from my mom, begging for me to come home. Instead, I chucked my phone a few feet down and pulled a spliff from my backpack.

A couple more hours here wouldn't hurt.