Adrian

 

As promised, Sarah finds me standing by my locker, my book bag slung on one arm as soon as the final bell rings. I follow her down the halls to the front of the school where we meet Allison Shaw. She has red hair and bright green eyes and seems to be afraid of absolutely everything, since she’s always looking around nervously and clutching an expensive looking silver locket around her neck. She’s very quiet as we leave the school and cross the busy street to the university on the other side. I walk at the back of our small group and watch as Sarah tries to make conversation with her, even though it’s evident it’s hard for her to do, since Allison doesn’t really want to talk. I can’t help, but wonder if she has a past similar to my own and the reason she isn’t as composed as I am is because her façade isn’t perfectly in place, like mine is.

            Jude and his friend, James “Jim” Morrison, who is a year older than him along with being tall, dark and handsome, meet us in the universities parking lot. It turns out they have two more classes later that night, but they’re doing so well in both of them that it won’t really matter if they skip them one day.

            We all pile into Jim’s car, which barely fits all of us, and head downtown.

            Everyone in the car, but me has a very animated conversation on our way to the Mall of America. Even Allison. I don’t feel as if I really belong in the first place and them not even inviting me into the conversation completes my feeling. I stare out the window of the small silvery gray car and watch buildings fly by as we drive. I think of when Michael would take me to the city for trips for ‘just the two of us’ as he would tell our parents when he still lived with us. It was the one thing I would really look forward to when Michael finished college and started visiting us again

            It didn’t take very long to get to the Mall of America, since our school was barely fifteen minutes outside of Minneapolis. When we got there, since it was a weekday, there were several spots open in the parking lot in the front of the mall. We parked, then ran as fast as we could into the mall, almost as though we were afraid it would close before we got a chance to go inside and look around.

            I have never been inside the Mall of America before, so I am the only one, who seems even close to stunned about its sheer size. Its four floors of nothing, but stores of every kind and at the back of the mall there is a theme park for people of all ages. I’d heard about it from almost every kid that went to my elementary, middle and high schools. It was the big attraction that drew people from all over the world to Minnesota. It was in every tourist must-see guide to both the state and the country. And now, after living in Minnesota for ninety percent of my life, I am finally inside it myself.

            “Adrian?” a voice says, bringing me out of my shock. I blink and look over to see Jude, looking at me sort of confused. He, along with everyone else have walked a few steps away and are looking back at me like I’m high on LSD or some other hallucination drug because, since they’ve all been there about a thousand times, they don’t understand what’s so fascinating about it anymore.

            I shake my head once and say, “I’m sorry. It’s just, I’ve never been here before. I didn’t think that it was really this big.”

            I see Sarah’s eyes widen, Jude’s and Jim’s jaws drop and Allison gives me a suspicious look that I completely don’t understand in anyway whatsoever. It takes about a minute for anyone to say anything and when they do, it’s Jude that breaks the silence.

            “You’ve really never been here before?” he asks, sounding just as surprised as he looks. I bite my lip and nod. He only smiles and replies, “Then I’m going to be the one to show you around with a little help from the wonderful people we have with us here.” He walks back over to me, loops his arm through mine and drags me to the front of our small crowd, but not before I see Sarah giving the both of us a smile larger than life.

 

Jude

 

There is absolutely nothing in this world that is more fun than showing someone who has never been the Mall of America before every single store that you can find a reason to walk into. Especially when that someone is a girl you don’t really know, but still have a crush, if you want to call it that, on her nonetheless.

            I can honestly say that I have never seen Adrian happier – not that I’ve seen her that much at all – than when I took her to the Mall of America. She wanted to stop and look in every shop, even the ones that were at almost every single mall or strip center in America. She seemed fascinated by everything and when we took her to one of those knick-knack shops that are all over MOA, she would always go immediately to the magnets in the back with all the funny sayings on them and laugh herself silly before she would allow us to leave. Several times we had to drag her out of those stores, just so we could get something else done before the mall closed.

            We are finally heading off to get ice cream at the Cold Stone on the second floor after having dragged Adrian out of Lego Land when Sarah says, “We need to take her to the American Girl store they just put in!”

            The American Girl store was the store that all girls went to see, no matter their age whenever they came to MOA for the first time. That and the brand, brand new Barbie store that might as well not be there, since it’s so small. Now me, being a guy, am not too thrilled about the prospect of walking into a store filled with dolls, while my girl friends run around the store, playing with them even though they’re all sophomores in high school and all will claim they don’t play with dolls anymore, despite the fact that we all know they’re going to do exactly that once they get into the store. I give Jim a look and I can practically see his thoughts, which consist of the same two letters my thoughts do: NO.

            “Why not?” Sarah asks after I tell her exactly that, sticking out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout, making me want to tug on her lip like I used to when we were younger instead of making me think she’s cute and want to take her to that girlie store.

            I sigh. “Because it’s a store forgirlsand the last time I checked we’re not all girls here. What are Jim and I going to do while you and your little girlie friends run around the store? We can’t go on any rides because you won’t be able to find us and the arcade is lame.”

            “Well, the last timeIchecked,” Sarah retorts, stepping in front of me and jabbing my chest with her finger, stopping me in the dead center of the hallway, “there are three of us and two of you, meaning that we out-number you first off, in case you’ve forgotten how to count, and second off that we get to do what we want to do because there are more of us.”

            I am opening my mouth to tell her that I don’t really care just how many girls there are and that no matter what I amnotunder any circumstances stepping into that doll store and be called gay later when Adrian pulls us all to the side and says softly in a voice that sounds more afraid than anything else, “Jude, can we please go to the American Girl store? I’ve never been here before. I want to see everything I can.”

            Honestly, I have no power over this girl. I am going to tell her no just like I told Sarah, but instead what comes out of my mouth is, “Okay, fine, but we’re not staying long.”

            Sarah smirks.

            Allison smiles.

            Adrian…bites her lip.

            I do not understand that girl at all whatsoever.

 

Adrian

 

I realize only later when we’re going back to the escalator near Cold Stone and heading towards the American Girl store after having gotten our ice cream that I must have, sounded so stupid to Jude, since whenever I ask people things I tend to sound like Oliver Twist asking for more food, so afraid of being beaten and rejected. I’m sure he expected me to smile like Sarah and Allison did when he said we could go to the store, but all I did was bite my lip because I was afraid there was some catch.

            Of course I was wrong.

            We’re just reaching the first floor and heading down the hall towards the big open center of the mall when Jim says, “You know we could have just walked over to the entrance on the second floor.”

            “Yeah, well, it’s too late now,” Sarah replies, scooping up a large spoonful of her ice cream and cramming it into her mouth, smiling sloppily at me. I can’t help, but laugh at her because she looks so freaking ridiculous.

            It’s just then, when we have reached the open center of the mall, while I’m still laughing, too, that we hear raised voices towards the middle of the open area, almost as if the people there are begging to be noticed. I stop laughing immediately, cringing at how the voices sound.

So angry.

I look towards where the voices are coming from, still following my companions, and see two men arguing: one in a uniform from Best Buy, the other in a black leather jacket. For a minute, it just looks like a regular argument between two people, then one of the men, the one in the leather jacket, pulls back his fist and slams it into the other man’s jaw, obviously not pleased with something he had said.

            The minute his fist connects with the other man’s jaw, I am sucked into my past and I see something completely different than from what is in front of me.

She is slapping me across the face. He has me backed into a corner of the basement. I’m crying, begging them to stop. She is holding my arm too tight. It burns. I’m screaming in pain. I feel the blade the pushes into the space between my ribs, just under my heart. I hear her laughter. I wonder how Michael cannot hear them.

            I lick my lips and start humming a happy song, trying focus on that instead of the onslaught of memories, but nothing happens.

           I am in the hospital, doctors asking me a thousand questions, trying to get me to say something, anything that will incriminate my parents, but I am faithful; I say nothing again them. I cannot breathe. Her hands are around my throat. Her face promising death. He has locked me in their closet again. I am so hungry, but I can’t get any food. I am cleaning the house, but it’s not good enough. She is pulling me out of my bed in the middle of the night, beating me, telling me I am worthless. She is so angry.

           I close my eyes.

           She pushes me down the stairs. She blames me for everything. I believe her. How could I not? I see Michael’s face, slightly suspicious as my father leads him from the room. Her nails dig into my arm so hard it bleeds. Someone at school asks about the marks on my face and arms. I smile and lie perfectly. I ate an entire box of Twinkies that weren’t mine. They were hers. She tells me I am fat and worthless. I am in the bathroom, puking up my dinner after he hurt me…I never thought he would go that far. I never thought she would allow it. I am screaming as he backs me into a corner, his face a promise of pain, a promise to take away the one thing I thought I would be able to keep. My screams echo into the night. His voice resounds in my ears.

           I clap my hands over my ears.

           She is holding me down, slapping me and kicking me over and over again. She pushes me down the stairs. She is holding a knife, threatening to kill me if I don’t finish cleaning up my own blood from the other wound she already made in my chest before Michael gets home. I cannot lift my arms. They’re far too heavy. She punches me and tells me to hurry up. I grab the washrag and start cleaning the blood, while holding a wad of tissues to my chest. This is the second time this has happened. Everything is too heavy…maybe I’ll get lucky and just fall into oblivion forever…instead I feel her punch me in the chest, right where my wound is. I hear someone screaming. It takes me a moment to recognize that person as myself.

           I wince.

           She throws me against the wall. He is yelling. She is yelling. He is breaking me from the inside out as I try to get away from him, just to stop it all.

           I fall to my knees, unable to stop the barrage of memories.

           She laughs as I struggle to wipe up the last of my blood. He smiles as I wrap my mouth around him. He twists his hands in my hair and forces it deeper into my throat. I choke and cough. I try to pull off, but he won’t let go. My throat hurts.

           There is nothing I can do.

           She shakes me hard by my shoulders, screaming and slapping me.

           I can just wait and pray –

           He tells me the shut the *$^* up as he drives deeper, despite my protests.

            – that it will end soon.

 

Jude

 

We are just passing by Barnes and Noble,trying to ignore the fight in the middle of the mall, when I feel as if I should turn around. When I do I see Adrian kneeling near the elevator, her hands over her ears, her eyes shut tight, her mouth in a grimace. I grab Jim’s shoulder and turn him around. He looks where I do and sees Adrian also, so obviously in pain. I’m sure this has something to do with the way she acted when I got so angry, but I’m not really thinking about that as I tell Jim to wait as I run over to her.

            She doesn’t seem to be aware of anything else around her except what is playing in her head over and over again. I try touching her shoulder, but she immediately freaks out. She jumps up and staggers backwards into the corner of the wall and then falling into one of the large fake plants near the elevator door. She falls over, creating the biggest racket, but when I reach over to help her up she shakes her head and says the strangest thing: “I’ll do anything! Just please! No more!”

            This is bigger than I thought.

            I kneel down next to Adrian, hiding my hands behind my back, knowing there is something wrong with them. I move next to her very slowly as though I am approaching a wounded animal that could be dangerous and try to kill me any minute. She doesn’t seem to register that I am still Jude and not whoever is haunting her memories. She is still frozen in fear that I am going to hurt her and it breaks my heart, especially when all I want to do is help her and try to understand what went so wrong in her past before I met her.

            “Adrian…” I whisper. “I’m not them…I’m not going to hurt you. Ever. I promise.”

            I’m not sure I can stick to my word, but I can try and for her I want to.

            However, just then she blinks, sees me as I suspect she normally would when she isn’t surrounded by her past and says quickly, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

            All I do is nod and watch her help herself up and run into Barnes and Noble to find the toilets. I carefully set the plant back up and tell the people who ask me if she’s going to be okay the truest thing I can:

            “I don’t know.”

 

Adrian

 

I walk as fast as my legs can carry me from where I had been kneeling into Barnes and Noble and from there I rush to the back of the store where the bathrooms are located. I already have it out of my pocket and I’m clutching it tightly in my hand. It’s wrapped in a tissue paper – which is less conspicuous than my drawstring bag – so if anyone saw it poking out of my fingers, they would just think it was just that. Or so I hope, since it would be really bad if anyone thought otherwise.

            No one bothers me as I practically run through the store to the bathrooms and I am thankful that when I get to them there is no line of any sort and that I can just walk into the first stall on my left, which is exactly what I do. I quickly lock the stall behind me before I unravel the tissue paper that contains my best friend and my cure. Something I cannot live without and have not been able to for five years. My drug.

            I roll up my sleeve and stare at the hundreds of other cuts that crisscross on the underside of my arm. Some go vertically up my arm, others go horizontally and some even go diagonally. Either way I find the sight beautiful. However, there really isn’t much room on this arm, so I flip it over and look at the expanse of scarred skin on the top of my arm. I don’t even think twice before I place the razor, which I stole from Michael’s shaving supplies, on my arm and quickly pull it across my skin.

            There is a small bite of pain that is more of an annoyance than anything really severe or painful, and then…there is my blood. It bubbles slowly up to the surface of my skin. The small dots growing bigger and bigger until they cannot stay there anymore and drip down off my arm. I add five more lines to my arm that do this, which turns into five more after that and then five more after that. By the time I am finished with my razor and am grabbing for the tissue paper that is hung in the stall, I have thirty-seven new cuts on my arm, and they don’t even take up that much space.

            It takes me about another ten minutes to clean myself up. I have to wrap my arm in tissue paper and tape it down – I carry tape with me for exactly this sort of thing – so my blood doesn’t seep through my shirt, which is, unfortunately a pale purple. I curse myself for not wearing red or black. I am thankful I didn’t wear white. I know my blood will probably seep through the tissues, but at least then people won’t be able to see it through my shirt.

            That’s the last thing I need. Jude thinking I’m even more of a freak.

            As I walk back out of Barnes and Noble, I see everyone standing by the entrance waiting for me. I expect them to be annoyed for having to wait so long, but no one seems to really care. When Jude sees me he runs up to me and asks, “Are you okay?” Obviously referring to what happened before my little escapade to the bathroom.

            I flash him the most brilliant, gorgeous smile I can, the one that people used to tell me could light up a room and get any boy to follow me, the one that is, also, one hundred percent fake, and say in an equally fake, cheerful voice, “I’m fine.”

            And I am fine. I always am.

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