Loud, persistent clinks ring outside. Groaning, I pull the sheets over my head, but it only muffles the incessant sound. I roll over to discover my window being pelted, something continuously banging against the clear glass. Worried that the window may break, I bolt up and jump over. Looking down, I discover Sierra standing outside on the freshly-mowed lawn, wearing a puffy sweater and fuzzy earmuffs, grinning like a maniac, and armed with a bag of stones. I open the window. The cold immediately permeates into the room, goosebumps rising on my arms like the undead rising from their graves. Pnemounia, I'm going to contract it! I panic, rubbing my arms in a failing attempt to warm myself. Homeostatis, I remind myself, but I stay doubtful. Of course I'm going to keep being cold if I think I am cold. Don't doubt what you learned in science! I tell myself. Mind over matter. I convince myself that I'm not cold in a futile attempt. My teeth chatter on their own will, shaking my body in infinitesimal earthquakes.
"Finally!" Sierra yells. "I was here, for like, an hour."
I put my wobbly finger to my freezing lips to shush her. "Don't wake up the whole neighborhood!" Sierra grins sheepishly. "It's frickin' two in the morning. I'm going back to sleep." I slam the window and dive into my bed, snuggling up against my comforter. Pulling the blanket up to my chin, I try to thaw my freezing body, but before I can start my peaceful sleep and return to my deep slumber, the blanket is ripped out of my grasp.
"Get up lazy." Sierra stands above me, her eyes narrowing in disapproval.
"Go away." I mumble, giving up on trying to stay warm. I surrender the blanket to her, but my sleep is vital to my attitude. Sleeping is better than warmth anyways. "It's two."
"Exactly. Now hurry up. You wanted excitement? I'll give you excitement, but you have to get your lazy ass off this bed." She grabs my hand. "I'm not letting go, young one. Don't let go of me either."
She pulls me up. I stumble, grabbing my sweater as she drags me along with her into the cold arms of the night. "Why are we doing this?"
"Because we're young and stupid." Sierra laughs, seeing the horror on my face. I got up for this? "Because we can, and you won't regret it either. Oh young one, when will you have faith and stop worrying so much?"
"No vodka today?" I ask.
"Not where we're going. You see, yesterday was a vodka situation. Today is not a vodka situation. Therefore, I do not have vodka because we do not need it."
Knowing Sierra, I don't bother to ask her to explain that. Sometimes, she just blurts out mysterious, confusing sentences, not explaining them when you asked her what it meant. Instead, I just climb out the window and onto the tree conviniently planted outside. My mom once told me that when she was little, her older sister planted a sapling outside as my mom's birthday present. She was only three at the time and didn't understand the usefulness of it until she was in high school, climbing the large, sturdy tree to escape her house during long summer nights and all-too-short school nights. Mom still says it's the best birthday gift she ever received, and she gave it to me last year. I don't really use it that much, except to escape the prison I'm in when I feel suffocated, unable to breathe surrounded by the thick air of fraud around me. I go then for a run, but I never can run away from here, from my life.
I jump off the tree, the tips of my toes on the ground, my knees absorbing most of the impact, my fingers by my feet, stretched out and flat. The street is illuminated by lamplights, each creating a sphere of light on the sidewalk and the air around them. Moths buzz by the light, clinging onto the yellow, fluroscent glow of it like a young child clings onto their mother. Other than that and the pale luminosity of the looming moon, everything is pitch-black.
"Where are we going?" I finally ask.
"To my car." Sierra opens the door to her truck and jumps inside.
"But where after that?"
"Does it matter? We're out, as we should be on Friday nights. Come, you won't regret it, as I told you. Faith, young one." In the car, Sierra becomes completely silent, a stark contrast to her usual loquacious self. She grips the wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white.
"Are you alright?" I ask. Perhaps she is nervous because she is not so experienced in driving cars. Maybe she just got her license. But that doesn't sound like Sierra to me. Sierra continues driving, staring ahead. I decide that she didn't hear me. Maybe she's in her zone and doesn't want to be disturbed.
"Do you want to hear the truth?" Sierra finally blurts out. "The only exception to when I lie is when I ask people whether they want to hear the truth or the lie. I don't count it as lying when they ask for they lie. Everyone has the right to know the truth, but if you give them a choice between the truth and the lie, and they choose the lie, then that's their choice. They chose to not know the truth. You can't tell them the truth when they ask for the lie."
Startled by the question, I sit there and blink stupidly. "You're going to tell me that you're going to lie, and I get a choice whether I hear the lie or the truth?"
"Well, sure. But be careful because I'll only tell you one answer."
"Truth, I guess." Sierra is always so mysterious, with her deep thoughts and spontaneous actions. She conceals her past, but doesn't hide the fact from me that she had a past. I could tell her past had bothered her, or had a deep effect on her by the number of times her eyes would unfocus, her mind wandering in the murky depths of her old history.
Sierra smiles. "So you're a truth-seeker? I can see that." Her face turns dark. "Years before, I've been involved in plenty of car accidents. It was a cruel twist of fate that allowed me to be the sole survivor every time. It wasn't like we were drunk or anything. One time, we were in the middle of a road, goofing off because no one was there. My friend from the back reached over and turned the steering wheel. An incoming car who was speeding crashed into us." Sierra stops the car, closing her eyes. "That was stupid, but it wasn't always like that. Another time, my friend, who was the most careful person in the world, was killed by this drunk twenty-year old. If my friend don't leave me by car accidents, they leave me by other ways." She sighs, starting to drive again.
"I'm sorry." I automatically say, watching the pain etched onto her face disappear into the familiar mask of indifference she constantly wears.
"How can you say you're sorry when you don't even know them?"
"I know you, and I've lost people too. It's not easy, but losing multiple people... that's hell."
"We're here," she says nonchalantly.
"Where? Why do I still not know where you're taking me?" I peek outside the car window and decipher the words carved into the wooden sign. Sierra's headlights blink with haste, and finally, I make it out. "Meadow Trail. Are we hiking? At two in the morning?"
Sierra extends her hand. "Take my hand and follow me to that place I long to be."
"Take my hand and trust my way," I say hesitantly. Michelle Newton. I studied her for a bit. I reach out and grab her hand.
"Do you trust where I'm taking you?"
I shrug. "I guess."
"Good." Sierra leads me further into the woods, straying off the given trail, steadily walking upwards.
"Why aren't you following the trail? It's over there." I point out the obvious.
"If we always follow the path set out for us, how are we to discover new things? To discover ourselves? Columbus didn't find the Americas by sailing the path everyone else did."
"I don't think that's meant in the literal sense. Besides, Colombus expected to land in Asia, so in a way, he failed."
"You have to live out the way you think, whether it's literal or not. Whether Colombus failed or not is irrelevant. What matters is that he discovered a whole new continent." Sierra stops, craning her neck.
"What are you looking for?" I look around as well, expecting to find deer, or a mountain lion, or some sort of wild animal.
"The trail. It's time to get back on the trail for awhile."
"How are you so sure?" I question, but I help her look for the trail anyway.
"Trust me. I always go here." Sierra points to the fallen redwood tree rotting on the ground. "It's behind that tree.
"There's a lot of trust going around," I remark. Stepping around the tree, I find the trail. There's something exhilarating about wandering off the trail to hike, with no one but me and Sierra and other animals who are awake. The crisp, cold air awakens and sharpens my senses and somehow replenishing my energy. The sound of newly fallen leaves crunching beneath our sneakers and snapping twigs, smelling brisk freedom and sweet pinesap, and being stung in the face by pine needles were all new to me. There was something exhilarating about doing all of this at two in the morning.
"Marley!" Sierra calls out. I look around, but she is nowhere to be found. "The first place to look is above you in a forest, that's where people go to hide," Sierra's voice wafts over from somewhere. I look up, and she's standing a few feet above me, leaning against a tree. She motions her hand excitedly. Without hesitating, I hop onto a rock, grabbing onto the lowest branch. I struggle to climb on, but I slip repeatedly.
"A hand?" I shout to Sierra, but she doesn't hear me. She's steadily climbing up. Okay Marley, you can do this. I pep talk to myself. Remember doing chin-ups for P.E? It's exactly like that, but just kick your feet upwards and you'll get there. I place my hand onto the rough bark of the branch again, a newfound confidence surging within me. I jump to give myself a boost, but my non-existent muscles fail to pull me up. I was never really good at chin-ups anyway.
"Need a hand?" A voice from above asks. Without waiting for a reply, the hand grabs onto my wrist, pulling me upwards.
"Thanks," I say to Sierra when I get up. "Um, tree climbing is not my thing."
"Practice makes perfect. Let's go, there's something I want to show you."
I climb after her, the bark and sharp pine cutting into my hand, but the sting only adds to my growing adrenaline. Sierra comes to a stop. "Look."
I look down immediately, thinking she is talking about the view from up here. I can see everything, the trees, the mountains, the sky stretching out in front of us forever...
"No silly. Look at the sky. The horizon. The color of it. Just breathe and look." The sun is steadily rising. Streaks of pink, red, and orange slowly overcome the quiet purple of the night like brushstrokes on a painter's canvas. It shouted the sun's arrival, an orange-yellow fireball of heat rising like a king, ordering everyone to wake up, that a new day had arrived. The sky glows with a display of radiant colors. The last remaining darkness escapes, fleeing like a thief at the display of light, and the warmth the sun emits gradually seeps into my body.
"When life gets too complicated sometimes, I just come out to hide here, and I can stare at the sunrise and the sky for hours. It's just so beautiful, isn't it? It's so innocently naked, with no buildings polluting its awakening. I can think here. Back in my hometown, there was a cliff I could sit on, and that was where I would watch the sunset and sunrise."
"Life is actually not that complicated. It's simple, really, but we make it complicated," I say. "All these things we say and do."
"I like that," Sierra says. "I wish that applied to me... I really like that."
We sit there, side by side, not moving, only breathing. Finally, Sierra pulls out a matchbox, disrupting the peace. "If I light this forest on branch on fire, this tree, this forest, it'd be a beautiful sight, wouldn't it? Breathtaking to be honest."
"What!" I shout, grabbing the matches away from her. "Are you crazy?"
"The crackling of the fire, the fiery glow, that'd be something," Sierra muses.
"It would not be something." I fiercely tell her, wondering what the hell is happening.
"And we could go down with the fire, and it's go on and on, until it couldn't anymore," Sierra continues to whisper, in a trance.
"Sierra!" I snap. She turns her head and stares at me. "I do not know why you have this crazy death wish or why you want to scar this forest you so admire, but it scares me, so please, stop."
"It's just that we're all going to die, you know? And when I die, I want to die in an untouched place. I want to die a beautiful death."
"This is not a beautiful death, this is an extremely painful process of dying. I'm going to keep these matches, okay?"
Sierra nods, her face blank and expressionless, and for once, her impassive, murky, and shadowy eyes give me an unsettling feeling. "I just want someone to understand me, you know?" Her face contorts into a vulnerable look, but she quickly shuts it down. She rests her head on my shoulder. I grip onto the branch supporting us.
"I understand you, Sierra, I do."
"I know," Sierra whispers. "You get me, kind of. And that's why I'm showing you a new way to live."
* * *
When I arrive back home, it's seven. "Hey honey," Mom smiles, reaching over to pull a twig out of my hair. "Were you out all night? Did you use the tree? Are you feeling tired?"
"Not really. I feel wide awake, and I am ravished." I make a beeline for the refrigerator and grab the milk carton.
"Marley, sweetie, it's Saturday. I always make eggs on Saturday, remember?"
"That's great actually. Something hot would be nice. Thanks, Mom." I swap the milk for orange and settle down at the table.
"How was last night?" Mom asks, her face one of mischief.
"It was actually just this morning. It was fun. I hiked, I didn't party."
"Oh, okay." Mom falls silent.
"You know, back in my day, I used that tree so much, my mother threatened to cut it down. I hope I don't have to do the same for you," she jokes. I laugh half-heartedly. "Scrambled eggs, coming up!" Mom slides the steaming plate of eggs, potato bits, and chopped scallions in front of me. I dig in immediately, shoveling the eggs into my mouth.
"You must be tired from hiking." Mom comments as she watches me devour my breakfast.
"I'm hungry, yes, but not really tired," I say through a mouthful of food. I drain my glass of orange juice.
"Ew, gross. Don't speak with your mouth open." Karen says as she stomps downstairs. I open my mouth even wider in childish rebellion. Karen gags and grabs a muffin and yogurt. "Bye Mom."
"Where do you think you're going young lady?" Mom demands.
"To Sarah's house."
"No, you are not. We always eat together as a family. Sit down." Mom orders.
Karen slumps down in her seat. "But Marley already finished eating. And Dad isn't even down yet."
"He had to work late yesterday. He's coming down though." Mom says.
"And I'm down!" Dad says on cue. He stands at the base of the stairway, throwing his hands up in the air, attempting to look like Superman. Karen rolls her eyes in disgust. Dad pecks Mom on the cheek. "Good morning, honey." Karen starts purposely choking.
I frown. "I feel the need to ask why Karen is so obnoxious and grumpy these days. And rude." These days, Karen wore two masks. The ugly one she showed at home, and the nice, cheery one she showed at school.
"Karen's going through a phase." Dad winks at me, slicing his throat with his finger as if saying, Don't say anything or she'll kill you!
Later, I follow Karen upstairs, knocking on her door impatiently. Karen swings open the door. "What do you want?"
"You've been acting different lately. Something up?"
"No, Mom." Then, seeing the look of concern on my face, she opens the door a tiny crack wider to allow me inside. I squeeze past her. "I'm just stressed and worried a lot these days." Karen sighs. "I'm worried about acceptance letters from college and also Connor."
"You're smart. No matter what college you go to, you'll do well." I knew that if Sierra was here, she'd scoff at that. She was brutally honest and never told a lie even to spare your feelings. I wasn't telling Karen a lie though. And it wasn't that Sierra was insensitive, it was that she thought everyone else was exactly like her.
"Thanks, Marley. You know, for being so young, you seem so mature and wise."
"I'm only a year younger than you." I point out. "So why are you worried about Connor anyways?"
Karen sits down on her bed. "He's always distant these days when we're together, like he's thinking about something else. I've caught him staring at the new girl multiple times too."
Who wouldn't? I think, but don't say it aloud for Karen's sake.
"She's so weird," Karen continues. "She prefers being alone even though people actually want to talk to her. Maybe she's an introvert that's trying to isolate herself from the world."
"It's because they don't understand her."
"They don't understand her because she's a freaking weirdo!"
"She's not weird," I find myself saying. "That's what a person who doesn't understand her would say." But I remember Sierra saying No, not shy, but not magnetic, and what people are drawn too. Weird, perhaps, if you want to categorize me. Weird because she was mysterious and had unsettling thoughts, or weird because she was a strange little creature that didn't fit in anywhere, not even with the outcasts?
Whatever kind of weird type category she is in, one thing is for sure; Sierra Ryder is not a normal person.
Bing! I look down at my phone. I have two texts. One is from Kaya, the other from Sierra. I open Kaya's. Movie tomorrow at seven. You better be there because it's time you started hanging out with us again otherwise I'll be stuck with Jasper forever...
I laugh. Kaya and her antics with Jasper. Reading Sierra's, my stomach turns sour. Tomorrow. Seven o'clock sharp. We will continue on our adventure of unearthing worlds, Marley Aspen. I know now that I'm at a crossroad. If I continue hanging out with Sierra, then I'd have to plunge into wild decisions with her. With Kaya, I am comfortable and at ease. Everything is routine, planned out, orderly. But Sierra offers the change I so desparately yearn for. A terrifying thought crosses my mind. Do I really want change, or do I just want what I can't have?
I stare at the small, pixelated screen before me, the messenger that would carry my reply to either Sierra or Kaya. My hand hovers in the air between the two names written in dark, bold letters, wavering between the two different paths Kaya and Sierra represent. Which of the following is correct: a. Kaya, b. Sierra, or c. neither ? One thing is for sure. There is no d. all of the above.
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You all need to check out my friend, Megan. Her stories are amaaaazing. She is such a good writer, and you'll fall in love with her characters. @live_luv_meg Her characters are fierce and independent. And she's a hilarious person herself.
So this chapter is a lot longer than my other chapters. I've been trying to extend my chapters. I hope you like it!
Also, thanks as usual and always for reads, votes, and comments!! I am forever grateful for your votes and comments and reads. Comment below telling me what you thought of this chapter, and what you think of Sierra!!
<3,
C. Augustine