Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 49 - GIRL ON FIRE

I went into a McDonalds store. The fast-food place was half full. The glass door opened with a beep. Cold air rushed out like a breath held too long. Inside, the scent of fried oil, powdered cheese, and sweet ketchup lingered, clinging to the plastic chairs and laminated menus. I stepped up to the counter. The cashier wore a too-bright smile, her eyes tired behind thick eyeliner.

"One Longsilog meal. Extra hash brown. Hot chocolate," I said.

"Would you like to upsize your...?"

"No."

She nodded. Punched it in. The register beeped with every press. I sat in the farthest booth, next to a window fogged from the inside. The seat was warm from the sun, sticky from someone else's skin. A lone fry lay squashed under the table. The tabletop was chipped at the edge, and the surface had a dull film of grease. The overhead speakers played a song I didn't know, something upbeat with auto-tune. The bass thumped gently under the hum of conversation and the whirring of a broken soda machine. They called my number. I stood up, paper bags rustling. My slippers made soft dragging sounds on the tile. I picked up the tray. The plastic felt cheap and oily under my fingers.

Back at the table, I opened the packets slowly. The ketchup was too sweet. The garlic rice was lukewarm. I cut the egg with a plastic spoon that bent too easily. The hot chocolate was more sugar than cocoa. I didn't bring my phone. Left it on the kitchen counter. No buzzing. No calls. No messages. No apologies. Just the clink of cheap utensils. The hiss of frying behind the counter. The soft footsteps of people who weren't looking at me. The world moved around me.

And I let it.

I ate in silence, shoving the food down to my stomach even if I am not really feeling hungry. I ate because that's what normal people do, they nourish. So I did and hoped that whatever fills my stomach will also fill the emptiness within my soul.

After I finished my food, I walked back to the parking lot. The asphalt burned through the soles of my slippers. My reflection stared back at me from the driver's side window, burgundy hair catching sun, platinum strands like wires. A stranger. Maybe that was the point.I got in. Closed the door. The inside of the car smelled like fabric softener and heat. I turned the key. The engine coughed, then settled. The radio came on automatically. I turned the dial. Static. Another turn. Then the song.

"I Would Hate Myself Too" by TX2.

"I'm a black hole, lost soul, can't be fixed
There's a reason I keep wrecking relationships
And again I undress
And again I lose friends
And again I'm a mess
Okay, it's true and I confess
(Where do I start?)
I, I'm a psychopath, I'm a knife in your back
It's the shower scene when I'm in the room
I'm a bad attitude, I'm a villain to you
And I would fucking hate me too"

Loud. Jarring. Like someone yelling into a cave full of broken mirrors. I turned it higher until it vibrated the mirrors and the base thumped in my chest like it belonged to someone else's heartbeat. The roads were clean. Organized. Traffic lights blinked in practiced rhythm, red to green, green to yellow, yellow to red. Cars obeyed. Everyone slowed. Stopped. Moved. Everything had rules. Timed motions. Lanes to follow. Crosswalks where people could pass safely. My eyes stayed on the white lines. Painted like boundaries no one dared question. A mother crossed the street with her daughter. They held hands. A boy on a bike waited at the curb, feet flat on the ground, patient. A delivery guy scratched his head while balancing three drink trays.

Everything made sense out here.

The buildings stood where they were supposed to. Billboards flickered exactly every ten seconds. Sidewalks cracked only in places where roots had grown too wild. But inside my head, things moved without stopping. No signals. No lanes. Just pieces, shards, of something. Of everything. Of Mom. Of Dad. Of James. Of Matt. Of the screams I can't unhear and the quiet I can't hold. The bass thumped again. My foot pressed harder on the gas. But I kept my eyes on the road. I didn't trust anything else.