After the Cabin (3 page)

“I'm really not interested in going over the past,” I tell her. “It's over. I'm moving on.”

As her phone briefly buzzes, she pulls it from her pocket and takes a look at a message. “I can't believe Marit was in on it, either,” she continues, sniffing again. “I remember her vaguely from when we were all really young. I mean, I didn't know her that well back then but...” She starts tapping at her phone's screen, sending a message back to someone. “But seriously, don't you hate her even more than the others? It's like, she actually claimed to be your friend but she just tricked you into going out there. The whole thing was just so pre-meditated. Like, they must have been planning it for months, luring you into their trap!”

“I haven't thought about it much,” I lie. “I'm certainly not going to think about it in the future.” That, at least, is true.

“Sorry,” she continues, still typing, “I just need to reply to this guy Matt. He's dragging a few of us out to the Rebellion club.”

“Is that place still going?” I ask.

“Go figure. There's some local band playing tonight, I don't even know if I want to go.”

“Does it still stink of stale beer in there?”

“Totally.”

“And are the bands still rubbish?”

She nods. “If anything, they're worse than ever.”

I pause for a moment. That brief conversation, just a few lines long, was the first time I've felt truly normal since everything that happened at the cabin. “Can I come?” I ask, before I can stop myself.

She turns to me, clearly shocked.

“Can I?” I continue, forcing a smile. “I mean, it's okay if you don't want me to, I just -”

“No,” she stammers, “I mean yes, of course you can come, I just never thought to invite you, that's all. I mean, I thought...” Her voice trails off, and it's clear that she's still surprised. “Anna, don't take this the wrong way, but do you really think it's a good idea?”

“Why not?”

“You've been home for about five hours,” she points out. “Shouldn't you be way,
way
more cautious about, like, easing yourself back into things?”

I know she's right, but I want to prove that I'm not this fragile little thing.

“What did your doctors say?” she asks.

“To take it easy.”

“And your mother?”

“The same.”

“Maybe they have a point, Anna. Honey, it takes time to adjust to being out again.”

“So I'm supposed to just to sit around in my room?” I ask. “I'm not going to turn into some kind of shut-in, Karen. I want to get back out into the real world, and a night at a grotty little local bar sounds just about right. I won't drink alcohol, I won't dance or stay out too late, but I'd like to be around people for just an hour or two.” I wait for her to reply. I know she's right, I know I should take it easy and protect myself, but at the same time I'm absolutely desperate to prove that I'm not some pathetic little cripple. This is my first chance to do something normal, and I can't let it to go waste. “So how about it?” I continue. “Do you mind if I tag along?”

Three

“This place is even worse than I remembered!” I shout, trying to make myself heard over the noise of the sound-system as I take a sip of cola. “I swear, it's like they
never
clean anything!”

“Wait 'til the band starts,” Karen replies. “I heard them once before, they're not exactly good. I swear, the drummer can't even keep time! Still, I guess I'd hate it if this place actually changed. Bad music and a terrible smell are kind of its soul, right?” She fiddles with her straw for a moment. “So how did your mother react when you told her you were coming out tonight?”

“About how you'd expect. For a moment I thought she'd bolt the door and I'd have to climb down the drainpipe from my room.”

Smiling, I look out across the crowd. The club's lights are constantly flashing and changing, and there's a part of me that expects to suddenly spot Jennifer or Christian or one of the others staring this way, like some kind of cliched nightmare dredged up from my subconscious mind. I guess coming here was a way of challenging myself to see if I can be normal, but so far I actually feel better than I felt at home. At least in the club I'm not constantly flashing back and seeing brief moments from my time at the cabin. I haven't had one of those moments since I got here.

“I think Matt and the others just arrived,” Karen says, waving at someone I can't see. A moment later, however, I spot a hand waving back from the far side of the crowded room. “Come on,” she adds, “let's go find some seats. If you're up for it, I mean.”

“Why wouldn't I be up for it?”

“I don't know, just...” She pauses, before offering a smile. “Sure. Sorry, I'll try to stop doing that.” She turns to push through the crowd.

“Do they know about me?” I ask, grabbing her arm. “About what happened, I mean.”

“I haven't told them,” she replies, glancing back at me. “I wondered whether I should, but I figured it wasn't really my place. I mean, the whole thing was pretty big news when it first happened, everyone was talking about you, but most people have the attention scan of a goldfish's scrotum. I could give them a head's-up, though, if you want to make sure no-one says anything dumb. Wait here and I'll just -”

“No, it's cool,” I continue, glancing down at my chest to make sure the stuffed bra is still in place beneath my shirt. Such a stupid, vain thing, but it makes me feel better. “It doesn't really bother me either way. I just wondered. I don't want any special treatment or weird looks.”

“They're really laid-back,” she tells me, as we fight our way through the crowd. “Don't worry, I think -” Before she can finish, there's a burst of loud guitar feedback from the stage. “Oh God,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Brace yourself. Here comes the so-called music!”

***

“It's like the drummer's playing a completely different song,” Matt says with a smile, leaning toward me as we sit in a booth. “How the hell do people like that end up getting paid to play shows?”

“They're
not
paid,” Karen mutters. “They pay for the privilege. It's basically the musical equivalent of a pyramid scheme.”

“That explains a lot,” he continues, keeping his eyes fixed on me. “So Anna, are you new around here?”

“Not really,” I reply, forcing a smile. I can see Karen keeping a watchful eye on me, waiting to jump in if I need help. “I've just been away for a while.”

“Cool. Like, at uni?”

“Just doing some other stuff.” Damn it, why didn't I anticipate these questions and come up with better answers? “I'm back now, though,” I add. “A lot's changed while I've been away.” I pause, trying to think of something else to say. “I'm kind of looking for new stuff to do,” I tell him. “I need to get back into the scene.”

When I turn to Karen, I can see the smirk on her features. She gives me a wink, but I turn back to Matt and find that he still seems focused on me, to the extent that he's ignoring the other people he came with.

“So what do you like doing?” he asks, leaning closer so I can hear him better. “Apart from coming out to listen while chronically poor so-called musicians attempt to torture people from the stage, obviously.”

I flinch slightly at the description, but I quickly tell myself not to be so sensitive.

“I'm just getting used to being out in town again,” I tell him, before realizing that the padding on the left side of my bra is slipping slightly. I try to straighten it with my arm, but I think it needs proper attention. “A lot of things are the same, but it's also kind of different.”

“Totally,” he replies. “There are some good places if you know where to look, though.”

“I just need to find them,” I tell him, before realizing that he's glancing at my chest. Looking down, I realize that my padded bra is totally out of whack, making my left breast seem to sag to my waist. “And now I need to go to the little girls' room,” I add, getting to my feet as I feel a shudder of embarrassment. “Back in a moment.”

“You want me to come?” Karen asks.

“No, I'll be fine.”

“Just so you know...” She pulls me closer and lowers her voice so Matt can't hear. “I think he likes you.”

“All I want right now are friends,” I tell her.

Slipping through the crowd, I reach up and check my chest, and sure enough I'm extremely asymmetrical right now. God knows what Matt thought, but I'm sure he'd already clocked some of the scars on my face and neck anyway. When I get to the bathroom I'm relieved to see that there's no-one else here. Heading to the mirror, I pull my top up and make a quick adjustment so that the padding is back in place, and when I pull my top down again I actually look pretty normal. After a moment, however, I realize that I'm being way too vain, so I fumble under my shirt and finally pull the bra out. I should just be proud of my body, but at the same time, I don't really want to explain, so... Sighing, I start putting the bra back on. I just need to make a goddamn decision, there's no reason to be nervous or -

And then I see her.

Jennifer is standing right behind me, staring at my reflection with those same dark eyes that I remember from the cabin.

I take a deep breath, telling myself that this is just a brief illusion, a hiccup in my perceptions, but she hasn't faded away yet. I blink a couple of times, hoping to wipe her from sight, but she's still there. Loud music is still pounding through the walls from the main part of the bar, but everything else seems so far away right now. Even though I know I shouldn't, I finally turn to face her.

She's still staring at me, but after a moment she tilts her head slightly.

“You're not real,” I say firmly. “You're just not!”

A faint smile spreads across her lips.

“I'm not crazy,” I continue, “and there is no way you...”

I pause, feeling a shiver running through my chest as she continues to stare at me.

“You're not really here,” I tell her, keeping my eyes fixed on her and trying to use sheer willpower to make her disappear. “I know that. I know you died at the cabin, and I also know that I can expect to sometimes have little moments like this, but I will not be scared! I refuse!” I pause for a moment before taking a step closer, hoping to force her to disappear. Still, she persists. “You're not real,” I continue. “I refuse to let you into my head.”

“Tell yourself that, bitch,” she replies suddenly, her voice filled with hatred. “Anything that gets you through the night.”

“I shouldn't have come here tonight,” I whisper, as the music gets louder and faster. “I wasn't ready for this.”

“What
are
you ready for?” she asks. “Maybe to admit the truth?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The truth about what you did at the cabin.”

“Me?” I feel a rash of panic rising through my chest. “I didn't do anything at the cabin! It was you!”

She smiles. “You know, I almost think you believe that.”

I want to tell her to go to hell, but the panic is too much now and I can't even bear to look at her. Turning, I hurry to the door just as another girl comes stumbling through and clatters into me.

“Do you see her?” I ask, grabbing the girl's arm and turning. Jennifer is still watching me, so I point toward her. “Just tell me if you see someone standing there. You don't, do you? There's no-one, just tell me there's no-one standing by the first cubicle. I know this sounds crazy, but just tell me!”

Jennifer raises her right hand and gives me a little wave.

The other girl pulls away and heads to the sink. “What are you on about?” she stammers. “There's no-one there. Nutter.” With that, she veers into one of the cubicles and slams the door shut.

“You're not real,” I tell Jennifer again, backing toward the door, “and I won't let myself start imagining you. There is no way you're real.”

Turning, I push the door open and head back out into the crowd. I spot Karen and Matt over by the bar, so I fight my way through until I reach them. I can't help glancing over my shoulder, just in case my addled brain decides to maintain the image of Jennifer, but I feel a flash of relief as I realize that she's nowhere to be seen. With each passing second, I feel more and more certain that I just had a brief misfire somewhere in my head. I only hope that I don't look completely spooked and fried.

“Are you okay?” Karen asks, nudging my arm.

When I turn to her, I can see genuine concern in her eyes.

“Fine,” I reply, forcing a smile. “I just had to fix a few things.” I wait for her to reply, but after a moment I realize that she's staring at me with a puzzled expression, and when I turn to Matt I can see a hint of shock in his eyes. “What?” I ask, trying not to get paranoid. I force a fake laugh, but I immediately realize how bad it sounds so I stop. “Why are you guys looking at me like that?” I look down at my chest, but my bra is still in place.

“Honey...” Karen grabs my arm and pulls me aside. “Maybe now isn't the best time.”

“For what?”

I wait for her to explain.

“What?” I hiss.

“Can you just...” She pauses. “Anna, can you just put your nose back on?”

“My nose?” Reaching up, I find to my horror that the prosthetic section is gone, and when I turn and look at the mirror behind the bar I see myself staring back with two holes where the fake nose should be. For a fraction of a second, it's like seeing a skull in the club's flashing lights.

“I know you think it's funny,” Karen continues, “and in a way it is, but honey, maybe this isn't exactly the right -”

“It's not funny,” I stammer, looking back out at the crowd. A couple of girls nearby are staring at me as if I'm some kind of freak, but I have no idea when my prosthesis fell off. “I have to find it,” I whisper, forcing my way back through the swarm of dancers, while looking down at the floor in the hope that I might spot my nose somewhere. Trying not to panic, I nevertheless feel increasingly desperate as I get to the bathroom door and push it open, figuring that it has to be over by the sink. How could I not have noticed it falling off?

“Woah!” a drunk girl shouts as soon as she sees me. “Hey there, Skeletor!” She turns and waves at some other girls. “Stacy! Lauren! Come and look at this!”

Pushing past her, I look around the bathroom for some sign of my nose, but it's nowhere to be seen. When I look back over toward the door, I find that a few more girls are watching me now, as if I'm some kind of freak. They all have nervous smiles, and after a moment one of them pulls a phone from her bag and takes a photo of me, before mouthing the word 'Sorry' and then hurrying out. Even as the door swings shut, I can see her already typing furiously, probably sending the picture to her friends. Outside, the band's music is getting even louder and faster.

“Oh my God,” one of the other girls says finally, “I think I've heard of you. Are you that girl who got -”

Stumbling past them, I push my way back out into the main part of the bar. Karen comes running toward me, trying to help, but I slip past her and force my way through the crowd, trying to reach the exit. There's a sea of faces all around me, and while most of them are watching the band, one or two are looking straight at me and I can see the horror in their eyes. I reach up and cover my nose with my left hand, but I feel as if everyone has already worked out who I am. By the time I get to the stairs and race up toward the exit, my heart is pounding and I start stumbling, grazing my knee in the process.

“Anna!” a voice shouts in the distance.

When I reach the exit, I stagger out into the dark street, where a few people are standing around with cigarettes. I don't wait to see if they look at me; instead, I turn and hurry away, desperate to get home where no-one can see my face.

“Anna!” Karen shouts, but I quickly slip out of sight around the next corner.

I wait a moment and she calls again, and I realize with relief that she didn't see which way I came. Turning, I hurry along the street and then break into a run.

“Anna! Come back!”

***

If I'd walked through the center of town, I'd have been home by now. However, I'd also have faced drunken crowds spilling out of other bars and clubs, so I've taken the long route, steering clear of anywhere that might be even remotely busy. The few times I've heard someone nearby, I've ducked down behind a car and waited for them to move on. Now, out alone near the old train station, I'm wandering along a deserted path and I still have a hand covering my nose, just in case I happen to bump into anyone.