The gym lights were off. It wasn't that I liked them that way. No. It was like Aaron was emerging from the shadows every second, trying to grab me.
But that was something I could shake off. I liked not being in handcuffs for breaking and entering.
"Focus," I murmured under my breath, sending another punch into the bag in front of me. When I'd left Valda's, this was where my feet had taken me. I couldn't tell whether they'd helped the situation or made it worse.
I glanced into the darkness again, sure I'd seen someone moving. I grunted, giving up on my focus. My hand went for the handle of the gun tucked into snugly against my spine. I usually didn't like relying on guns, but the cool metal against my skin gave me a reassurance.
I pulled the gun out of my waistband, pointing it steadily into the darkness that was forming into my worst nightmare.
"I know you're there," I whispered, following the shadow's movement. It stopped. Then it faded back into the same shapeless darkness it had been before.
I brought the gun to my side, scanning the darkness again. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I confirmed that my mind was a stupid-idiot-head and that I'd been played by it. I tucked the gun back into my waistband, trying to shake the visions of craziness out of my head.
"You're not crazy," I muttered angrily to myself. "I. Am. Not. Going. Crazy." A lock clicked in the distance.
I retreated into the corner behind me, trying to decipher whether or not the click had really sounded. A second later, the door to the gym swung open, letting in the dim light of the street lamp just in front of the door. A slightly stooped figure walked in, closing the door and locking it. I recognized the figure right away; the owner, Mr. Bollinger.
Mr. Bollinger, walked into his office near the entry door and turned on the light. I rolled my eyes as I saw him sit at his desk through the window. If I started practicing again, he'd hear me and call the cops. I enjoyed being handcuff free.
I sighed softly, pushing off the corner. Going and talking to him was the only option if I wanted to keep practicing here. He would be there for hours on end--I know from experience--and I didn't feel like making a plan to sneak out. It really just made me annoyed at that moment.
My footsteps were ghost-like as I made my way across the gym and into the bright office. I leaned against the door nonchalantly before coughing loudly.
Mr. Bollinger jumped out of his seat, grabbing under his desk for the gun hidden there.
"Hey, Mr. Bollinger," I muttered, looking him in the eyes. The terror that had taken hold of his face slid away as he realized it was me, but confusion swept over it again as he patted the underside of the desk.
"Where did I put that gun?" he muttered after giving me a slight nod of acknowledgement. I pulled the gun that had given me so much comfort out of my waist-band and held in my open palms in front of me.
"It's here," I murmured. Mr. Bollinger looked into my palms, the terror leaking back onto his face.
"Lekia," he breathed, "please hand me the gun." It must've been something in the way he said it, because anger flared up inside my gut.
"I'm not a ticking time bomb!" I screamed, taking the gun in my right hand and bringing it to my side. "I didn't want to get jumped! Is that so big a deal? Gosh..." I trailed off, gripping the gun until my knuckles turned white.
"I'm here now. I won't let anyone jump you. Now give me the gun please." I took a deep breath, throwing a bucket of water on the flame of anger. Keeping my eyes closed, I flipped the gun, caught it by the muzzle, and handed it to Mr. Bollinger handle first. The gun was snatched from my hand and I heard as it was slipped back into its appropriate holster under the desk.
"Wanna tell me why you're here, Lekia?" I could practically hear the relief in his voice.
"I just needed to get away," I breathed, eyes still closed. I finally got up the nerve to look at him.
"Do you mind if I just...if I just stay here for a while? I can't go back right now."
"Why not?"
"I just can't!" I yelled, the anger coming back with a burning vengeance. Why couldn't everyone just stop trying to pry into my mind? I took another deep breath.
"I can't go back. Please, just let me stay here for a while." Mr. Bollinger looked more scared than he did sympathetic, but either one worked to keep me here.
He nodded tersely.
"Thanks," I smiled. I was out of that office within the second, hitting the lights to the gym as I went.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mr. Bollinger picked up the phone, not sure who to call at first. He wasn't blind. He wasn't going to call Lekia's father. Who knew what that girl would get when she got home.
He sighed and called the only other person he could think of.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Palika strode into the gym about five minutes later. He looked around, finding Lekia almost immediately. She had conveniently chosen the punching bag where she could see the entire gym.
He saw her glance up quickly, then go back to her bag.
"Hey!" he shouted, giving her a slight nod. She stayed concentrated on her bag.
"What's her deal?" Palika asked, peeking into the office. Mr. Bollinger took his eyes off his laptop to glance at Lekia. He shrugged, "She was here when I got here."
"Any idea how long she's been here?"
"Nope," Mr. Bollinger went back to his computer. "All I know is that she stole my gun and then had a panic attack while it was still in her hands." Palika's eyes widened as he glanced back at Lekia.
"Good to know," he muttered, pushing off the door frame. On the short walk to Lekia, thoughts swirled in his head about what he was going to say to her.
This was a whole new kind of crazy, even for Lekia.
"You gonna acknowledge me, Nameless?" Palika teased, reaching the bag. Now that he was close up, Palika could hear her panting and see the sweat dripping off her nose.
He grabbed ahold of the bag and hoped that she wouldn't punch him.
"Whatcha doing here?" She didn't even glance up.
"Maybe I should start calling you 'Speechless'," he joked halfheartedly.
"Palika?" Lekia panted, finally stopping with the bag and looking him in the eye.
"Yeah?"
"Do me a favor and shut up."
"Will do."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I had ignored my feeling of weightlessness and now I was paying the price. Black spots flashed across my retinas, making the world spin. I grabbed my forehead with one hand and threw out my other to keep balance as my feet stuttered.
"Whoa, there," Palika rushed to my side, grabbing my elbow.
"I'm fine," I murmured, gripping his bicep despite myself. "Just got a little light-headed."
"You're pale as a ghost," he stated, his voice filled with worry. The punching bag swam in my vision as the hand clutching at my forehead fell limply at my side.
Palika grunted as my knees gave out and I fell into him. He slowly lowered me to the ground, making sure I was laying on my back.
"I'm going to get you water," Palika panicked, leaving my line of sight. I stayed down, trying to make the world stop spinning like a top. My brain had the good sense to shut my eyes. I probably would've heaved otherwise.
I listened to Palika's footsteps approach, trying to focus on something other than the helium in my brain. This was so humiliating. How could I have been so stupid as to work out? When was the last time I had eaten and not thrown up? I should've listened to Lansing...
"Up we go..." Palika whispered, helping me sit up slowly. "Drink." I drank obediently, my eyes still closed.
"I'm an idiot," I murmured after I was done.
"When was the last time you ate?" Palika asked, ignoring my recent revelation.
"Without throwing up?" I joked halfheartedly. I was coming slowly back down to earth.
"Yeah," he murmured, his tone serious. Gallows humor isn't funny to everyone.
"A couple days ago."
"What was it?"
"Half an apple."
"I'm taking you home."
"Where is home?" I asked as he helped me to my feet and slung my arm around his shoulder.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Why are you still in your pajamas?" Lansing asked as I marched into the house, Palika close behind.
"If you don't slow down you'll be in the same situation you were before!" he shouted after me, trying to grab ahold of me. I spun out of his grip, ready to almost literally bite his head off.
"Hands off or I'll be calling you 'Fingerless'," I threatened in a guttural voice. He backed off immediately, sliding behind Lansing for protection. I wanted to smirk, but my anger made me scowl even more.
"Lekia..." Lansing sighed as I stormed off toward the kitchen. "Why are you wearing pajamas?!"
"And why do you stink?" he added as an afterthought.
"You flatter me!" I screamed from the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge. I needed some sugar.
Lansing followed me silently into the kitchen several seconds later. I glanced over at him leaning against the frame, trying to con me into talking.
"Stop that," I snapped, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge and slamming it shut. Lansing shrugged, looking indifferent.
"I'm not doing anything." I glared at him in response, considering drinking out of the carton just to spite him. I quickly botched this idea and went to the cupboard and grabbed a glass.
Pouring the juice in, I glanced back up at him.
"Yes you are," I argued, going back to my orange juice. I swirled it around for good measure before bringing it to my lips and downing it like a shot.
"You're doing the 'I'm upset with you, but I'm gonna let you say something first' face," I continued, pouring myself another glass. The science ran through my head. Orange juice has about twenty-two grams of sugar per eight ounce glass. That sugar would go into my bloodstream and trigger the pancreas to release insulin. The insulin would go to my cells and tell them to let the sugar in. The sugar intake would give the cells energy and in turn keep me awake.
Happy with the prospect of staying awake, I downed the second glass.
"Okay. I'll say something first then," Lansing pushed off the door, coming to stand closer to me. "What in the world were you thinking?"
"I was thinking a lot of different things," I blocked, turning to look at the empty coffee maker. "Where's the coffee?"
"I haven't made any yet; it's five in the morning!" Lansing's tone rose in frustration with each word.
"I need coffee," I announced, making a dive for the coffee grounds in one of the upper cabinets.
"You need sleep, and don't change the subject," he reprimanded, closing the cupboard door I had opened before I could grab the coffee grounds.
"What's your problem?!" I snapped, stepping away from the cabinet but keeping within arguing distance of Lansing.
"Lekia, don't," was all Lansing moaned, running his hand down his face.
"Don't what?" I screeched, taking a step back from him. "Don't make a scene? Don't go crazy? Too late." He cleared the distance between us in one easy step.
Placing his hands on my shoulders, he begged, "Don't do this to yourself." I froze for a second, suddenly back in the bar. But then the reality came back and my anger returned.
I threw his hands off and took another step back.
"I'm fine," I argued, turning my back to him and beginning to walk away from him.
"Lekia, you need help!" Lansing yelled. I stopped with my left foot hovering inches above the ground. It was the phrase everyone had dodged but had always implied.
Turns out I hated it even more when someone came out and said it.
"How many times do I have to say this to get it through everyone's thick skull?" I seethed, whirling around on my foot. "I am what I was trained to be. A soldier. Soldiers don't have weaknesses. They don't have feelings." Lansing was staring at me with a mix of despair and frustration written on his face, but I continued by yelling, "I am stronger than my obstacles!"
"You're not," Lansing whispered. "But I know someone who is that you're neglecting."
"Like talking about feelings with you is going to make me stronger," I sneered awfully. Somewhere in my mind I knew what I was doing was horrendous. I knew that I was hurting Lansing in ways that no person should ever be hurt. That little brain cell was being trampled by my ugly pride, which had been called up by my fear of being weak.
"I wasn't talking about me, Lekia," he whispered with the same calmness.
"My shrink? Come off it. I don't need him inside my head." He may wish he'd never entered.
"Two for two. You suck at this game," Lansing, to my confusion, smiled. That just made me furious.
"I'm done with this," I spat, turning on my heel once more and preparing to stalk out.
"I'm talking about God, Sweetheart." The whisper was so quiet I was surprised I heard it over my resounding footsteps. It was like it had come on the wind.
I turned towards Lansing slowly. If this moment was a snapshot of a perfect life, I would have fell to my knees right then and begun to sob uncontrollably due to my shame and overflowing emotions.
News flash: life isn't perfect.
Anger soared in me as I remembered all I had gone through and what was happening to me now. God had gotten me out of the clutches of Aaron, but He didn't seem to want to help me now when everything was falling to pieces. I had been defiled so many times, I could see why He didn't really want to.
"God doesn't want to help me anymore," I whispered, thinking of all the things that had been done to me and every event that had happened after I'd escaped. He was letting me go through all this because I was too lost, too disgusting for Him to want to help me anymore.
Before Lansing could open his mouth to object, I had charged out of the back door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The ringing in my ears began softly, coming in short intervals. I turned my head from side to side, trying to see if different angles would make it go away. It seemed to make it louder and softer depending on my turn, but it wouldn't go away.
I sighed and planted myself in the soft sand of an unknown beach. I'd let my feet lead me away from Lansing's until I was completely lost at this beach. I remembered walking down some roads, through some short stretches of trees, but no directionality whatsoever. I had just ran.
I guess it was what I was best at these days.
The ocean lapped at the shore a few feet away from my toes. As soon as I had left Lansing's, the remorse and shame had taken over. It had flooded my senses and reverberated with each step I took.
Now the words I had spoken earlier about God not being able to love me rang truer in my mind. If God couldn't love me, how could anyone else? I made a mess of everything I touched.
Aaron had been right.
"What're doing here?" a voice behind me asked. I spun around in the sand, shifting up onto all fours. I was ready to take down any threat.
"Maki?" I wondered aloud, making sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me.
"Yeah," Maki confirmed, coming up to sit next to me. I turned around again to face the beach with him. There were a few lone surfers catching some waves before work out in the water.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I asked, staring out at the rising sun above the waves.
"It is," Maki agreed. I didn't even glance at him to smile. I was too transfixed by the red sun emerging from the clear blue ocean.
"How'd you know I came here every morning?" Maki asked after a few moments of silence.
"I didn't," I replied, shrugging at the ocean. "I just walked." I finally looked at him, catching him staring at me for a split second before he directed his gaze back at the ocean.
"I didn't know that you surfed in the mornings," I stated, taking in the surfboard he'd sat next to him in the sand.
"Every day at six," he smiled, daring to glance over at me. "Sure you haven't been stalking me?"
"Get over yourself," I actually laughed, at ease suddenly. I suddenly remembered our kiss twenty-four hours ago and felt my cheeks redden.
"Sorry I didn't call you back," I mumbled suddenly, recalling the voicemail I'd gotten during school but had forgotten in the mess of my scrambled brain.
I didn't want to talk to him anymore. He had only kissed me because he didn't know how messed up I really was. If he knew what was going on...
I'd already lost An and Lansing.
"It's okay," Maki shrugged, now looking back at the ocean. "I'm more concerned why you're sitting on a beach in your pajamas at the moment."
"Long story," I breathed, pointing my gaze at the sand between my toes. "I've got to go." I stood up, fully expecting to walk out of there no questions asked.
That is, until Maki grabbed my wrist.
"Lekia," he breathed, his voice cracking, "you can talk to me. I will not think any less of you." I looked anywhere but his face. The shame had taken hold of me again, and I wanted nothing less than to run away again.
"You can't say that because you don't know." He gently pulled at my wrist. I resisted him at first, feeling trapped on the spot. Something gave away inside me, though, and I allowed him to guide me to the sand once more.
I had gone into a sudden daze, lost in thought of the past twelve hours. Then I was suddenly aware of Maki's arm around my shoulders. A sudden flash of panic came with the realization. I shrieked, a sudden burst that resembled a puppy's heart-breaking yelp, as i came out of the sudden onslaught of strobe lights. In Maki's arms I had shrank into a ball, but he had just hugged me tighter, holding my head to his shoulder protectively.
"I knew exactly who I was getting when I kissed you yesterday," Maki whispered, beginning to stroke my hair. I latched onto him, terrified of what my life had become and the prospect of what it could be.
"Please talk to me." I clung to him tighter, gathering the courage. I could trust him, I knew that. But I didn't want him to know. I didn't want to start crying. I didn't want to ruin the facade that I'd put up around me.
"I'm an awful person," I muttered, trying to turn off my emotions. For some reason, it wasn't happening. They all flooded my senses, refusing to be shut down. The force of every feeling hit the wall I had so carefully erected like a hurricane.
"I was so awful to An and Lansing," I sobbed, the tears streaming down my face. "They don't deserve to be treated like that."
"What happened?" Soft. Gentle. Trustworthy.
I spilled everything that had happened at the party and what had happened with Lansing. The guilt throbbed like an open sore on my heart.
"You hate me now, don't you?" I asked, burying my head deeper into his chest. I wanted as much of his warmth before he threw me away.
"I've done a lot worse than that," Maki sighed. "The guilt hits you hard, doesn't it?" I looked up at him in surprise. He was staring out into the waves, seeming to be lost in his memories.
"Yeah," I sniffed, not knowing what else to say. The crying had subsided, feeling a little bit better that Maki understood. But would he understand everything? He couldn't possibly.
I let it go. For know, he understood the guilt I was dealing with. That in itself was helping me cope.
We sat like that, watching as the sun rose into the sky.