Double-Edged Sword - $UICIDEBOY$

The Earth Gasped, And The Lake Screamed.

You yanked leggings and a bleak grey t-shirt on as quickly as possible, scrambling to divert your attention from being discovered snooping. You balanced on one foot at a time and yanked fluffy socks up your shins and finally took a breath of air. The house was again engulfed in silence, as though no one had come in. Your throat closed, and a knock started from the door. You felt yourself shrink with embarrassment.

    "Yes? Hello?"
    "I was gonna ask if ya slept okay last night."
    Your brow furrowed. Ruby had a tone in his voice.
    "Why would you care?"
    "I dunno- ah, never."

    He left.

    Was that interrogation?

    You exited the room and found yourself outrageously hungry. Ruby had left without a trace, and your paranoia seeped in. Timidly, you strode though the living room and turned into the kitchen. It had the bare essentials needed, but also plenty of tiny figurines and half dead plants on a windowsill. Still not feeling very confident with your place in the house, you grabbed the half-eaten family sized bag of chips and stuffed your face. Anything you did felt like a burden, or that you were somehow freeloading.
    "Hungry?"
    Scrim reached over your shoulder and snatched a chip from the bag and ate it. You forced yourself not to react with surprise, so you shrugged instead and kept looking towards the floor. You heard the fridge open up to the right, and then a bottle open. What was it, 11 am? You kept staring off, but he seemed to always push conversations.
    "I didn't say anything 'bout last night. He got a lil paranoid I think, but nothing happened."
    "Okay... I won't say anything either."
    He left and you no longer had an appetite. You resealed the bag and looked out of the kitchen window into the backyard. It wasn't big, but in the far right corner was a patch of wild tiger-lilies which had mostly died off for the season. On one side, the dying stems clung to a picket fence which divided this house from the neighboring one. Surrounding them were flat rocks entombed in the earth. Funnily enough, two benches were planted right in the center of the yard, back to back. One faced towards the window, while the other stared off into the disheveled and forgotten remains of haggard train tracks which divided the house from the one across. Intrigued, you found the back door and took a stroll through the backyard.
    The earth was spongey and sank under your feet. You watched it rise again when you took another step, almost like the dirt was taking an agonized breath. The benches seemed old, probably put in place before the two musicians moved in. They were both unevenly set in the ground. However, their metal bases were not rusted. In a place like this, water resistance was key. The wooden slats however had seen better days. They were dulled by time and splintered off in some portions. Still, you chose to sit on the bench facing away from the house, careful to avoid any massive splinters lurking.
    The interior of their house had the same scent as the air it seemed. The scent of the dirt saturated the whole atmosphere in this town. The soil itself had a persona of its own; you considered it a respected member of society. The dirt made itself known. It filled the air and reclaimed whatever it could down here. The ghosts of hurricanes lurked under the grass. If you listened, Katrina's subdued wrath begged for the continued demise of the land. The train tracks called her name.

    The bench behind you creaked.

    "What are ya doing out here all alone?"
    You flinched from Ruby's voice, "The earth wants New Orleans back I think. The dirt is trying to eat everything."
    "I'd say you're right... I like it though. I feel close to things knowing they want me back."
    The sinister sponge below your feet rose again. Invisible hands reached up and swayed. Never had you felt so suited to the land which wanted to reclaim you back inside. Your eyes closed, and visions of water surged forth.
    "Take me to the lake."
    "The where...?"
    "Pontchartrain. Take me there."
    "You know about-"
    "Drive me out over the Causeway Bridge."
    "Y/N..."