There's something wrong with Phoebe

17 - Phoebe

I hadn’t expected life to be so complicated. I thought I’d come home, pretend to be sweet to these people, do my mission and be back in Jack’s arms within a fortnight. Lily had completed her mission before me. I was getting anxious now.

I’d grown attached to these people like I’d never imagined. It was like I cared about them. And this thing with Sam? I couldn’t help but feel I was betraying Jack, but at the same time, I really wanted to kiss him. But it would be like cheating on him. Jack could tune in at any point and hear my conversation with him – what if I was kissing him? He’d hear some weird, squelching noise and he’d know what I’d done. I thought of these things as I worked on the right side of my bed. I worked here because that way, if anybody came in, I could shove everything under the bed, and if I left anything by mistake still on the carpet, you couldn’t see it, and the left side was closest to the door. It was good that Jack had only given me a small one to make. It would fit inside the bag I’d bought this morning to take with me to this big dinner.

I checked my watch. I had two hours until I was meeting Sam, and I’d been working on it for three hours now. It may be small, but it was still hard, and very intricate. I’d been quite good with these in Jack’s classes, but it was harder without a proper work bench and space. The dinner was only two days away now. I needed to hurry. I’d been spending too much time with my family, but I suppose I’d needed to do that to make them believe I was for real.

This was the tricky bit now. If I didn’t do this right, it would go off right here, and I’d go with it. That wouldn’t be ideal. Successfully, I completed it. I grinned, pushing my hair back off my face as I looked at my work. I slipped the casing on top and it was ready to go. I pushed it under my bed along with my tools and the small, red button device which acted as the trigger, and fell against my wall, closing my eyes.

“I’m not staying here,” I said, glaring at the man in front of me. He grinned.

“I think you are.”

“You can’t make me,” I replied, crossing my arms determinedly.

“Why don’t you take this to the bathroom,” he said, smiling as he threw a plastic carrier bag at me. I reached inside, confused, and pulled out a rectangular box. I read it, and caught my breath in my throat. A pregnancy test.  I’d been worrying about this prospect since this man had first forced me into having sex with him. It had been disgusting. And then we’d done it again, and again. It meant I got to stay above ground. And the basement stunk. My hands were shaking as I rose to my feet, gulping. “Do it quickly. Then come out and sit back down – we’ll look at the results together.”

I took the test, trying not to cry. I was thirteen. This wasn’t right. We sat on the sofa together in silence as the television blared in the background. Then, the little pink plus sign showed up and Jack laughed happily, punching me lightly on the arm.

“You did well,” he said. I sniffed, wiping a tear away that had managed to escape. “You’re not happy?” I shook my head. “Then go in the basement. You can walk there or I can push you; you’re choice.” I got up, bowing my head as I opened the door and walked down the dark steps and found my way to the small camp bed in the corner. And then I cried.

I was jolted awake as Kayla came into the room. “Fall asleep?” she said. I tried to act as normal as I could, and nodded, trying to smile.

“I’m going to shower now,” I said, getting up, shaking.

“You’re meeting Sam in half an hour though…”

“What!” I said, checking the clock by my bed. “Shit!” I said, loudly.

“Don’t worry – just use dry shampoo,” said Kayla.

“What?” I replied.

“It’s what I use when there’s no time to shower. Works perfectly,” she said, rushing to her room and chucking the bottle at me. “Don’t spray too much though, or your hair goes white.” Yet another everyday object I had no idea existed. I then ran to the bathroom and rested my cheek against the cool tiles, trying to breath steadily as I undressed. These dreams were so stupid. I was imagining a third scenario – the first two being the one I’d been taught and what had really happened. When I’d found out I was giving Jack an offering, I’d been so happy I was ready to burst, and we’d eaten ice cream to celebrate. He did that with everyone. I was so confused by these third stories. I pulled my dress on, splashing my face with water to try and cool myself down, but my temperature would not go away. I slumped down on to the bathroom floor, hitting my head on the sink, and everything disappeared, just like life as I knew it had the day that it snowed in 2005.