Affliction

Chapter Three: The One With The Voices

The sound of the doorbell had me scrambling to put the last of my make-up on. I swiped my favorite clear gloss over my lips, the sweet peppermint smell bringing a smile to my face.

"Mom, can you get that?" I yelled as I threw on a tight black sweater I borrowed from her closet. I ran a brush through my hair one last time, taking extra care to conceal the bite mark on my neck. The bite mark didn't look as bad as it did this morning. Already the bruising was turning yellow in places. By tomorrow it would look like nothing happened. Which in itself seemed odd. I didn't usually heal as quickly. Just one more thing to add to the "Stuff I can't explain" pile in my brain.

I met up with Kat in the entryway of the house. Her blonde locks tied in a knot at the top of her head. She was wearing skinny jeans and a soft pink tank top.

"Hey, are you ready?" She asked.

"Yeah, just let me grab my shoes and say bye to my mom."

I grabbed a pair of black ballet flats from the closet and slipped them onto my feet. I found my mom in the kitchen, stirring flour into a bowl of cookie dough, from the smell of ripe bananas filling the kitchen I knew she was making my favorite, chocolate chip banana cookies. I wrapped my arms around her middle, setting my chin on her shoulder.

"Be back before ten; it's a school night." She said.

"I will," I promised before kissing her cheek goodbye.

"Okay, let's go," I said as I left the kitchen. I couldn't help the rush of excitement I felt looking at Kat. This was going to be precisely what I needed.

                                                                                           ***

"Dude, stop hogging all the beer!" Nathan shouts as he takes the keg hose away from Brad and dispenses beer into his red plastic cup.

"Would you like some?" Nathan asks, flicking his gaze in my direction.

"No, I'm good, but thank you," I say as I clutch my half-empty coke can a little tighter.

"Come on, Freya, you never drink when at these things. Have a little sip."

"Man, if she doesn't want one, don't pressure her," Brad speaks up as he takes the keg nozzle away from Nathan.

I smile my thanks at Brad, but I know it doesn't reach my eyes. Despite putting all my effort into staying in the moment with my friends, and trying desperately not to think of my strange dream, and the appearance of Miss. Box's body, it's become an obsession I can't shake. A part of me is tempted to take what Nathan is offering me. But I know alcohol isn't the answer. It might dull my sense for a few blissful moments, but all my problems would still be present the next day.

"I can't believe what happened to Miss Box."

"I know man," Brad says, his eyebrows rising in astonishment. "Unbelievable," he says as he takes another drink out of his plastic cup.

"Don't you live on the same street as her Frey?" Nathan asks.

"Yeah."

"That's some scary movie shit right there," Nathan says.

"I'm going to go closer to the fire. I'll talk to you guys later." I said.

Without waiting for a response, I walk away. I was trying to avoid Miss Box's death, not have a conversation about it. But in a small town that was a lot harder to do. It seemed everyone wanted to talk about what could have possibly happened. The rumors ranged from wild animal to a cannibal fleeing prosecution taking refuge in the forest, to a feral child who got too hungry and killed Miss. Box while she was out for her morning run. The theories kept getting more and more bizarre as the hours passed. I took a seat at the makeshift wooden bench near the fire, stretching my legs out until my toes touched the stone bricks that enclosed the fire pit.