Oblivion [CURRENTLY EDITING]

Chapter Two

By the time Meredith left work the following morning, it was already half-past noon. She thought, climbing into her small car, that she had never before been so grateful for investing in a house close to the hospital. She found it difficult to keep her eyes open as she drove, never having worked thirty seven hours straight since her days as an intern. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

As she pulled into the narrow driveway of the small house, relief instantly washed over the woman. Yanking the key out of the car haphazardly, cutting off the sound of the engine she knew needed to be looked at, Meredith sat in pure silence for a moment. She leaned forward, forehead pressed against the cool leather of the steering wheel as her two hands gripped either side of it. Although she certainly would never admit it, Meredith found herself drifting away, into a delirious sate of dreaming she had long since forgotten. She relished in small moments like this — so few and far between, now.

And there were... eyes, blue like an ocean, and she found herself soon wanting to swim within them... and then, she was floating... until, she felt a sinister hand reach out and take hold of her, dragging her beneath the surface. But, her body was so tired... and Meredith found it hard to resist the same, dark blue fluid she had once admired filling her lungs until she slowly drifted away....

Tap, Tap, Tap.

She was instantly shaken from her dream by the sudden, intrusive noise. Immediately, she lifted her head, searching for the source. It could be found in the form of a young woman; standing on the other side of her car door. She was six-foot-nothing and gorgeous, having moved in next door a few days ago. It occurred to Meredith in that moment that she had never introduced herself, had never even seen her new neighbor face-to-face until right then. She opened the door and stepped out of the car, filled with uncertainty. Meredith had never been good at starting conversations with strangers. The neighbor looked friendly at least; whoever she was. She had that whole "doe-eyed", naïve look about her. But her character had yet to be tested, and Meredith knew better than to assume her to be so innocent. Mer crossed her arms over her chest as her eyes remained trained on the stranger.

"Can I help you?"

Perhaps she had come across as too blunt; and though it wasn't her intention, she didn't much care.

"You could tell me why the hell it rains so much here," the neighbor said, her ever-present smile morphing into a wide-toothed grin as a laugh bubbled up from her core. Meredith could at least admire her effort to be pleasant. She flicked a piece of her long, black hair over her shoulder as she looked to Meredith expectantly. She realized then that she was supposed to laugh in return, trying her best to force one out. It sounded as forced and as fake as ever, though Mer couldn't help but shake the uneasiness that had crept up on her.

"Well, that's Conyers for you. Gloomy and stormy," Meredith quipped, trying to salvage what might have been left of this impression.

"I guess it's hard to adjust when you're coming from Florida to, well...this." The neighbor glanced up at the perpetually grey sky above them before refocusing her doll eyes on Meredith. She noticed then that her eyes were a lovely shade of green; like a freshly-mowed lawn.

"Most of our residents are usually moving to Florida to escape here," Meredith told her. It struck her as more than odd that this woman would be moving here, of all places.

"I can see why now. But work is work and I have to follow it wherever it decides to take me." And it was with her explanation that the woman shrugged, as if her big move was no big deal. Meredith fought the urge to ask what exactly her line of work was, curious as to what would drag her all the way out here.

"Anyways, I'm Meredith. Welcome to the neighborhood," she said while trying to force a pleasant smile onto her lips. The new neighbor hadn't mentioned her name yet, which prompted Meredith to give her own, in hopes that she would follow along, though she never did.

"Well, thank you so much! Merry Christmas Meredith," was all she said before turning around and walking back to her house. Meredith was too exhausted to deal with confrontations today, and was partly surprised that she had made it through this one relatively unscathed. Turning away, she began walking towards her porch steps, taking them as fast as one could manage without slipping on the ice that coated each one. The whole street was silent as she unlocked her door and slipped in. Locking the door behind her, the only thought on Meredith's mind was the hope that her neighbor — whoever the hell she was — wouldn't make those insufferable conversations a habit.

—

She had been so looking forward to stepping out of her stained scrubs and into a hot bath that afternoon. Meredith leaned against the wall in her bathroom, one hadn under the running water as she wished the water would boil faster. She felt her phone vibrate within her pocket. Meredith unearthed the device, only to be met with a text message from Julian.

Are you busy? I don't want to spend my day off alone.

She let out a groan, not wanting to think of him right now.

The entire situation surrounding Julian and their little arrangement had grown far too complicated for Meredith to find enjoyable any longer. Julian was all lies and empty promises, a snake in men's clothing, and Meredith hated him for it. And while, perhaps, she could sympathize with the fear of commitment, or being too busy to settle down — she knew better than to think he ever stopped to consider her feelings, or how hurt she was when he continually disappointed her.

Meredith released a deep breath she had not realized she had been holding before typing back a simple response.

I don't want to see you tonight. Sorry.

She didn't want him around, and knew better than to let this keep happening.

—

As she lay in bed that afternoon, trying to will sleep to overtake her, Meredith tortured herself with her own thoughts. Her amber eyes began to water as she wondered to herself: is this as good as it's going to get for me?

She had wanted so much more for herself — and yet, somewhere along the way, she managed to convince herself that this was all she ever deserved to feel. Empty and unfulfilled, longing for the days when she would wake up excited for a new day to begin. Now, the mere thought of existing for another mundane day filled her with dread. Her life was about as dreary as it could get; and it was being so painfully ordinary that, inevitably, frightened her most. She had once been so full or fire. Where had it gone?