Black Iris

The Park.

Rose

It was dark by the time I finally stopped walking. I had gone across four different suburbs, until the streets were unfamiliar, and I couldn't recognise any of the faces walking past. Then, I kept walking, and the shadows grew long, and the sun dipped away, the streetlights flickering on.

The neighbourhood I had reached was dodgy, known for being run down and rampant with crime. My parents would have had a heart attack if they knew I was there. Or maybe they wouldn't care. It was always hard to tell with them.

In the darkness, I managed to find a park, with a metal slide lying tipped on its side and a single creaky swing. I sat down on the swing and let out a shaky breath, looking down at my feet. I felt the demons come closer.

That was why I had been walking. Running away from the voice in my head.

But I couldn't run forever. It was too tiring. So I let it devour me.

Jordan is glad to be rid of you. It whispered. You're a waste of her time. A waste of everyone's time.

My psychologist told me that I should try to understand the voice in my head. Analyse it. Figure out where it came from, and why it came. She said that's the first step in controlling it.

But I couldn't. I couldn't understand where it came from, or why it came. I couldn't control it.  It controlled me.

I felt tears pull to my eyes, and I quickly blinked them away. Just as I wiped at my eyes, I heard the echo of voices coming down the street.

I looked up as a group of teenagers wandered into the park, holding misshapen backpacks and metal bottles. There were a bunch of them, maybe twelve or so, and their laughter and yelling echoed around the playground, shattering my reverie. Not that I minded.

I did mind that they were heading my way, though.

"Hey, lady. This play equipment is closed." One yelled.

"Not to us, though." Another silently jeered, to which they all laughed.

"I'm not a lady." I said, indifferently. "And hang out here if you want. I don't care."

I was tired, and a little bitter, but that seemed to intrigue them. A handful muttered, but one chick came over, a brown paper bag in her hand that was concealing a very obvious beer bottle.

Someone in the group called out to her. "Charlene! She could be high."

I rolled my eyes, not that anyone could see. Charlene just shook her head.

"Yo, are you alright?" She asked, standing about a foot from me in the dark.

I considered lying to get her to go away but after a second, I let out a sigh. "Not really. But I'm not high. Just messed up."

She was quiet for a minute, and I heard the other guys muttering in the distance. Charlene took a gentle step closer. "You want to talk about it?"

I shook my head. "Not really." Then, after an awkward silence I looked up at her and offered some explanation. "I broke up with my girlfriend today."

"Oh?" She said. Then, quieter. "Oh."

I shrugged, glancing at her paper bag. "Is that alcoholic?"

"Depends." She mused, lifting the bag. "Are you going to dob me in if I say yes."

"Dob you in to who?" I muttered. "This isn't third grade."

"Damn right it's not," She said, then held out the paper bag to me. "Here. It's just a Coors. You seem like you need it more than I do, though."

For a fraction of a second, I considered declining. Then I took the beer from her. "Thanks."

I took a swig. At that moment, a loud cheer echoed across the park. Charlene laughed. "Hey, do you mind if my friends stayhere? You can leave if you want, too."

I shrugged. "I don't care."

She turned to look at the group. "Yo, guys, she's cool."

The group seemed to relax, sitting down in the grass of the park. Charlene cleared her throat and turned to me.

"I should have said. My name is Charlene."  She said.

"Yeah, I overheard." I said, and she nodded.

We fell into another silence and after a moment she cleared her throat. "So you just nameless then?"

I shrugged, barely.

"Not nameless. Hopeless, maybe." I muttered.

"Well, hopeless. You got a name?" She asked.

I slowly nodded, though some part of me didn't really want to say my name. It wasn't very common, so chances being she would pretty quickly figure out who I was.

So I improvised.

"Phil," I said, before taking a swig of the beer. It was more sour than I was expecting, and my face involuntarily scrunched up from the taste.

Charlene laughed. "Alright, Phil. You got some weird parents."

I nodded. "Yep."

"Is Phil a nickname?" She ventured. 

"Yep."

She paused, and I was expecting her to ask for my full name, but then she nodded. "Alright. Phil it is." She glanced back across at the group. "I'm gonna go over there now. Enjoy the beer, Phil."

I lifted it in toast to her. She nodded and walked away.

I watched her go, listening to the chatter of the group. She quickly rejoined the banter, and quickly got passed another bottle.

I drank my beer and tried not to watch.

Once I finished it, I got up and left. I booked an Uber home from down the street, and hid the bottle in my tote bag.

By the time I got home, the buzz of alcohol had worn away to just a dull ache, and the lights inside were all out. I dropped the empty bottle in our outside recycling, then let myself in and went straight to bed.

I fell asleep pretty much as soon as my head hit the pillow.