Ruin (2 page)

But for some reason, I don’t care anymore. I’m not mad at myself for failing.

I used to get mad all the time because I wanted my mom to be proud.

But now … Nothing can describe the feeling of disappointment and guilt rushing through my veins … as well as the overwhelming sense of freedom.

It’s done. I’m finished. This was it.

No more.

There’s nothing more I can do.

I danced as hard as I could, and it still wasn’t enough.

And what do I feel right now?

Nothing. I’m not mad. Not sad. I’m not feeling anything except emptiness.

And maybe that’s a good thing. It means there’s room for something else. Something different.

I crumple the paper in my hand and throw it over my shoulder as I walk away.

Without looking back, I get into my car and throw my bag in the backseat. I turn on the engine, pull out of the parking lot, and drive off.

The wind blows through my hair as I put the top down and enjoy the warm sun’s rays on my skin. It feels good to be on the road again. I don’t have to think about anything but the traffic in front of me, instead of being sweaty after performing for a bunch of judges. God, it feels good to get rid of the pressure. It’s as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

The only thing left to worry about is my parents.

I’m sure they’ll be at my door soon, but I’m not in the mood to talk to them right now.

In fact, I’m not in the mood to be anywhere but in this car right now.

So I think I’ll do just that.

With a smile on my face, I slide on my sunglasses and head to the freeway.

I think I’m going to have some me time … and I know exactly how.

***

Hours later

With a big grin on my face, I turn the last page of the book I’m reading and put it down. That was beautiful. God, I almost forgot how good reading could be. I rarely had the time when I was constantly training, but now … I honestly don’t give a shit anymore. I just want to read stories … dream about them … think of them in my head. It’s a great escape, and one I’ll never have enough of.

I pick up my vanilla milkshake and take the last sip before throwing it in the trash and returning the book. I leave the library right before closing time. It’s already dark outside, and rain is clattering down. I pull my hoodie over my dark blond hair and look up at the lightning in the skies, leaving beautiful wreckage in its place. What a fitting scene.

I smile, but it quickly disappears at the thought of what comes next. I don’t even know what to do with my life now, not that there’s any point in thinking about it.

I hop into my car and look back at the beautiful building before leaving the premise, promising myself that I’ll come back here more often. As I drive off, something nags at me, but I ignore the feeling. I don’t want to be reminded of today. I just want to start over or just pretend it never happened. Maybe I’ll just skip this day altogether. Except for the reading part … that was good.

In my dreamy, faraway state of mind, I pass a green light without checking my surroundings.

Right at that moment, someone crosses the street.

Lightning cracks open the sky.

Blackness spilling from an endless depth washes over me, causing me to scream.

My first instinct is to turn the wheel as hard as I can. Tires screech and the car begins to spin. Twisting and twisting until I don’t know what’s left and right … up or down.

I’m jerked from side to side until nothing is left but fear and darkness, crippling me.

And then it all comes to a stop.

Maybell

Before

“Watch out!”

I hit the brakes so hard they screech, but I wasn’t the only one. My driving instructor’s foot is jammed down too, and from the look on his face, I can tell he’s pissed.

“You almost hit a light!”

I look behind me to see if he’s right. Damn. I knew parallel parking wasn’t my thing.

“I’m sorry,” I say, throwing my hands up in the air. My heart pounds. “I didn’t see it.”

His face turns red, and he snarls, “How could you not see it? It was right behind you.”

“I don’t know?” It’s a statement, but it sounds more like a question coming from my mouth.

He lets out an exasperated breath, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ, May, you really gotta learn to pay attention to your surroundings.”

“I know,” I say, nodding while biting my lip. He’s right; I should know better.

“Really?” He raises his brow at me as if he doesn’t believe me.

“Yes,” I say.

“’Cause it sure didn’t look like it.”

“I know. I’ll try better.” I rub my lips together, trying to keep the tears at bay. I hate the way he talks to me.

“Mmmhmm … Right. Well, I’ll see you next time then.” He puts the gear into park and shuts off the engine while I open my door. As I step out and the hot air slams me in the face, I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Try harder next time too.”

Damn those last few words.

Every damn time.

Frowning to myself, I shut the door and walk away, not caring to look back.

When I get home, I throw my bag in a corner and open the fridge.

“Hi, honey,” my mom says.

“Hey …” I take out a can of Coke and walk out of the kitchen.

“Well, you seem happy …” She taps her foot behind me as I run up the stairs.

“Nope,” I say, and I go into my room and close the door behind me.

I pause and stare ahead.

The silence is deafening.

Lonely.

But quiet and peaceful too.

Like an endless field of flowers where I’m alone, enjoying the view.

Solemn bliss.

Just the way I like it.

People think I’m crazy when I tell them this. I can’t explain to them how being alone makes me happy. How I feel anxious and judged when I’m around people. How, whenever I go outside, I have to put up a mask so nobody notices what a weirdo I am.

In this room, I can finally be myself.

I can curse all I want at that stupid driving instructor who refuses to understand the difficulty I have with seeing things in a bigger view. Even though I only swear at him in my head, it’s good enough for me.

I groan to unwind as I sit down at my desk and start my computer, like I do every day after school or after dance classes. I listen to the rumbling sounds of the machine coming to life, while my head spins with thoughts of a life beyond earth, where girls don’t ride cars but fly with wings instead.

A life that exists only in my head. A world filled with wonder. A world only I can reach.

Of course, it’s all fantasy. I know that. But there’s nothing wrong with fantasizing.

And maybe writing about it too.

Sometimes, I do.

Sometimes, I don’t.

I have a whole folder on my computer dedicated to the stories I write, but none of them have ever seen the light of day. I’m the only one reading them, and that’s okay for now.

I just use them as an escape from reality.

However, today I’m more interested in having an already shaped world to play in.

A world where everyone pretends they’re a magical creature, where girls can be orcs and boys can be elves, and the most insecure person can be a heroic knight.

A game I’ve played so many times, I can’t even count the hours I spent on two hands: World of Warcraft.

Mom says I shouldn’t spend so much time behind the computer; she says I should go out more to try to connect with people in real life. But why would I? When all they do is make fun of me?

Online, I can hide at least a little bit about myself so everyone will accept me.

Besides, I still take dance classes, and it’s not like one day of playing some games will ruin my future.

So I open the game and type in my login details, hopping into the world that lets me connect with people in ways I wouldn’t dare to try in the real world.

Maybe that makes me a coward, but I don’t care.

It’s the only way I can be me …
and
maybe have a friend.

Like this guy I’ve been beating monsters with for a few days now.

He’s always there at eight o’clock. Sharp.

Always here to play with me. To talk with me.

Even if it’s only about the game.

Even if we don’t know each other.

Not really, anyway.

But for me, it’s enough.

For now.

***

Alexander

Before

I eat my sandwich in silence, trying to ignore the guys’ joke about the fat girl in their class squeezing out a fart. My ears and eyes don’t focus on them. They hone in on the girl leaning against the wall in a hallway nearby. A girl with fair white skin and long, dark blond hair. She’s a bit small in size. Her body and face aren’t exceptionally beautiful, at least not according to most people. Most people would call her just your average girl.

Except she isn’t average to me.

Her appearance isn’t what draws my attention. It never was.

She’s tapping her phone, anxiously looking sideways and around her.

I know she’s waiting for her friend.

The girl she eats lunch with every day.

I know because I see her standing there every day, waiting for her friend.

They don’t have the same classes, but they always wait for each other.

Except for today.

After ten minutes, her friend still isn’t here, and the girl clutches her stomach while biting on the insides of her cheeks, clutching her sandwich wrapped in plastic a little too tightly.

Her friend must be sick because they always eat lunch together and never with anyone else. At least, not anymore. I remember when I used to see her walk through the cafeteria trying to find a place to eat, trying to connect with people, but it never came easily to her. It still doesn’t. I can tell from the way she scurries off, and how she slams her mouth shut whenever she thinks of something, maybe of approaching someone.

She’s always alone; she’s always looking at people from the corner, always yearning but never pursuing. She always smiles so gently at people passing by, but her smile fades away quickly too.

Except with her friend.

Her
only
friend.

Who’s not here to eat with her.

After a few more minutes, I watch her stroll off, still clutching her little lunch bag. Hidden behind pink glasses, her green eyes skitter across the room, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible as she rushes into the girl’s bathroom.

Probably to eat on her own, hoping no one has seen her do it.

But I have.

I noticed her.

I always did.

***

Now

In shock, I stare at the car crashing into a wall just a few feet away from me.

Not for one second do I hesitate before I rush in.

I’m the first at the scene, but for some reason, I know exactly what to do. I step over debris to look through the shattered window of the passenger’s seat. A girl sits in the driver’s seat; no one else is in the car. I run to the other side of the car as lightning strikes the pavement close to me, but I ignore it.

Adrenaline takes over as I rip away the metal with seemingly inhuman strength. A fire ignites in the engine as I hover over her body and unbuckle her seat belt. Only when I try to pull her away and lift her up in my arms do I notice how awkwardly her leg wobbles.

Smoke enters the car.

I don’t hesitate as I pull her away from the fire and walk with her lifeless body in my arms, stumbling across the road. When I’m far enough that the fire won’t hurt us, I stop. I place her on the ground and take a few deep breaths. Tears sting my eyes; I cough from the smoke, and I can’t see shit. Only after blinking a few times do I look up at the wreckage in front of me.

The wreckage that’s also beneath me … The girl.

Now that I finally have the chance to take a proper look at her, I notice something.

I know her.

The girl from my school.

That
girl … the one girl who was always shy but never afraid to smile.

Broken in pieces.

I suck in a breath and tell myself to man up and forget about it for now. She’s in trouble, and she needs help.

She’s not conscious, so I immediately go to my knees and check for a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there. For a moment, I panic and the thought of running flashes through my head.

But no matter how many times my brain tells me I’m a coward and thinks I should just give up … I can’t.

I need to help.

So I grab my cell phone and call 911.