The Demon in My Head

Bradley

The cold air is refreshing against my hot skin. I send one last wave at my mum and Ariana, still standing in the front door. Ariana is crying, reaching for me. It takes every ounce of strength in my being to turn away and start walking. 

The sky is overcast and quickly darkening. I don't see any other people around as I walk down the side of the road. The pavement vanishes. The tarmac is harsh against the bottom of my black wedge ankle boots. For a moment, the clacking of my boots is the only sound. A car passes from behind me, lighting up the bus stop on the other side of the road.

I take a turn into the overgrown gardens of the De Lisle house. I step carefully over tangled grass, trying to avoid besmirching my lovely gold-accented boots with any mud, and take cover behind a ragged hedge.

I pull my phone out of my clutch and open the map. I find Port Meadows on the map.

I've been there a hundred times. I could practically see the usual place in my mind: fields of grass beside the Isis river (although perhaps we should start calling it the River Thames instead given the annoying change of common meaning in recent years). This patch of land had been used for grazing cattle and horses since England became a country. For as long as I know, it's been a common location for dog walking and blasting loud music and getting drunk in a large crowd.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I can smell the cold grass. Hear the river. Hear the music. Hear the buzz of chat and laughter. Smell the smoke from the cigarettes. 

A cold wind blows over me, rushing through my ears.

I can hear the music.

Real music.

I open my eyes; the shock almost knocks me over.

I'm on Port Meadow, hidden in long bulrushes and the overhang of a willow tree. Soft lights surround a crowd ten metres away. Music is playing; different to what I imagined. I can see a flash of red hair and recognise my sister and her friends. Another group, mostly of boys, stand next to speakers. Lights stuck into the ground illuminate them from behind. One of them is particularly tall and built like a rugby player. That could be Bradley.

My heels sink into the wet earth. I step out of it before it can ruin my shoes.

My heart dances in my chest. I square my shoulders and keep on walking. 

As I get closer, I can pick out faces. I have a nice moment of peace where they haven't spotted me yet but I can see them. The tall one is Bradley. I could only spare him a glance. I creep over to Emma and her friends, fighting back the sick anxiety that swirled over me like a toxic cloud. I touch Emma on the shoulder; she whirls around and greets me, so happily I feel better in an instant.

She gives me a hug. 'Everything alright with...?' she whispers in my ear.

'Fine. I'm not staying long.' I fix a smile on my face as she pulls back and I have to face her friends.

'Hi, Eve,' Holly says chirpily. 

Lily, one of Emma's nicer friends, has obvious concern in her expression. 'Hi, Eve. You look better.'

'Yeah, thanks. Just needed a few days off.'

She tilts her head at me, then glances at my hands. 'Didn't you bring drinks?'

Shit. I close my fingers into fists. They feel almost unbearably empty. 'I forgot. I'll be fine. I just won't have any.'

Her eyes tense. Shadows play over her cheekbones. She holds a hand out to me.

I look at it.

She takes hold of my wrist and leads me away. When we're out of earshot, she pulls a bottle of vodka out of her clutch. 'Get this down you. You look so nervous I wouldn't be surprised if you fainted.'