A Sky Full of Stars

| 8 || Naked |

//

The gross sound of retching filled the bathroom as she vomited into the toilet bowl. The smell of bile made her gag but she had nothing left in her stomach so she just flushed it quickly with a flimsy throw of her arm. A bit had stuck to strands of her red hair and she pulled herself up onto the sink, soaked it and combed through it roughly with hand soap. The girl gurgled cold water and splashed her face until it felt just tolerable, slinking down onto her knees against the cold, clean white tiles. Her shaking hands opened the cabinet and took out a box of toothpaste, except inside it was a bag of white powdered substance. Tomomi tried rolling it into a piece of newspaper but she was shaking too much and dropped onto her stomach instead, snorting it straight through her nose. She choked and coughed slightly, having done it too rushed. The inside of her nose burned as she stared at the remaining powder with puffy, red-tinged eyes and a look that said "I fucked up".

Except she didn't. Because she was the one who catalyzed their disgusting desires and planted the idea that they're willing to spend more. So they did, they showered her with two times the amount she'd usually make during a shift. So she would skip her night shift with time spent instead under her blankets away from anything and anyone. Sometimes, Mami even spent the night on the couch. But no matter how tired or beaten she was she would make sure to cover herself up in long flannel pajamas in case Mami checked up on her. That stopped after the first two times Tomomi yelled at her for no apparent reason. The girl was starting to become delirious as to whether she was really doing anything at all; if it was all just a waste and a disaster and that she was just digging her own grave after trying so hard to keep away from it.

This wasn't every day though. Maybe once or twice a week at most. Today was just that day. Tomomi blew out a smoke from the cigarette she had just lighted and leaned against the wall in her scanty pieces. But things were going well. Now that Mami doesn't have to worry about paying her college dues, her grades were climbing and there were times where she would smile out of nowhere. Like thinking about a not so scratchy road in the future gave her more hope and seeing it made Tomomi smile, too.

"Just another little while and she'll graduate and this'll all be worth it," Tomomi whispered to herself convincingly.

"Tomomi?"

The girl started at the voice and crumpled the remains of the newspaper and bits of white powder that sprinkled onto the tiles. Mami opened the door and saw Tomomi there with eyes like a deer caught in headlights. A small panic rose as her lips stumbled,

"Mami! I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to...-" She stared guiltily at the drug that had separated them for years. "I thought y-ou were with Rina?" She could only imagine how wrecked she looked: moppy hair, pale skin in the cheap fluorescent light that intensified the dark circles under her eyes; above it lined with melted and crusted thick mascara.

"Yeah... I was just about to go," Mami stated emotionlessly.

Tomomi could feel those dark eyes on her and she mustered all the strength she had left to meet them.

"Rina's dorm party, right? Have fun," Tomomi bid as casually as possible. Mami nodded and angled her eyes down as she closed the door softly between them. The air sat suffocating. 

Yet Tomomi knew there was something missing because the smile she saw that day died when Mami saw her laced up again to go out. But Mami still didn't know and she couldn't afford to speak the truth.

//

The rain poured down hard and loud. The narrow curve of shelter did nothing as the wind flung the wetness at her cold, bare skin. She pressed closer to the door anyhow, knees bruised and hair soaking wet. Chills were felt to the bone and she counted the seconds by, gripping the dripping phone in her hand and breathing through her lips. Her toes were starting to go numb and one of her straps slid down her arm but she didn't bother fixing it. The streetlamp flickered uselessly in front of the steps she swore she'd never walk up again. She buried her face against her knees and clenched her teeth. The faint laughter from upstairs of another woman and threats from a disgusting man still echoed hauntingly in her ear. She could imagine his underbitten face painted with a muddy green, the colour of the money that was rolled up in her pocket. Her body shook violently and she lifted the phone up once more, only to drop it. After several tries, she knew no one was going to answer the phone. Her mother either died, was too drunk to care, or was busy being controlled by another man she convinced herself to love. Or maybe the other end had just been empty the entire time. She didn't know why she had any hope at all – it was one of those times where she got that feeling. It was like that feeling when she was little and felt extremely, world-shatteringly guilty about something.  She wished that door without a lock to stay closed. At the same time there was the tiniest part of her that expected her mother to come in wordlessly and set down her favourite hot soup and chocolate bar. It'd been 15 years since then.