Tuesday December 18th, 2012 - 9:00 A.M. TC3 - Dryden, N.Y.
Comm. 111 Classroom
Emmy had finished her final over thirty minutes ago. The class was instructed to go to a quiet place and shut their eyes to try and take in all the noises they hear around them. She decided to stop at the library. Seeing as a table near the center of the room seemed appropriate enough, she let her head rest on the wood. Throughout the forty minutes of listening; it amazed her as to how much her ears picked up. Even now, as she sat in the far back of the classroom, she was looking over her notes. The words scrawled across the paper were as neat as ever, even with her rushing to get them jotted down.
Her professor had been pondering over numerous amounts of papers on her desk, muttering to herself. The woman's face is long, along with her nose and forehead, tying well with her long thin arms. Seeing as she still had to wait another hour for the final to finish, Emmy started to doodle on some scrap paper. She had always been good at this, even back in her lower grade school years, when she drew a portrait of her art teacher. It was so good that it was displayed side by side along with the high school student's art. Her thoughts had been garbled so bad, that she hadn't even realized at this point that an outline of a bust was drawn. The way that the head was designed with the rough sketch of a perfect set of lips, and long curly hair; it was Lizzie.
Liz. If only you knew how I felt, though to be honest, I'm sure it would probably freak you out. I know you're into guys and all that, but I wish you'd at least hear me. I feel like a ghost most of the time that I'm around you. My heart skips a beat whenever I see your face… Or your chest. My GOD, your breasts are so perfect; so… so… Wow! Lizzie's portrait had been completed faster than she expected. She even shaded in around her face and chest to show the full contours of her breasts. Jesus! This is amazing! I… I gotta show her later.
Adrenaline was surging; she couldn't stop her breaths shaking a little. Before Emmy knew it, her hand was scribbling even more across the paper, adding a rough edged background with a full moon pouring its light over Lizzie's reflective hair. Once that was shaded perfectly, puffs of clouds began to form around and across the moon's surface. She was getting more and more lost in her drawing that not even her peripheral vision caught those standing around her.
Without even thinking, she felt her tongue slide between her teeth; something that she had always done her entire life, when her mind was focused. Within minutes, the picture had been completed. A long alleyway ran behind her friend, but she contrasted against it, making her a perfect and permanent part of that scene. It was beautifully crafted; she couldn't stop grinning. Lust began to form in her chest and below her waist. An insatiable urge made her yearn to caress her friend; her soon to be lover. "My god!" Professor Madeline cracked her vision entirely and she slowly began to come back down to earth.
That's when she saw all the kids standing around her and the long bushy haired woman before her desk. Oh… FUCK! She's gonna fail me… She's gonna fail me… Please God, don't let me lose this because of my lustful nature. I'm so sorry! I can't believe I thought of Liz as my lover. To her astonishment however, Madeline actually grinned at the paper. The way she sat on the edge of the desk, and let her body relax a bit, let Emmy's anxiety slip away. She exhaled as slow and low as she could muster. Thank you lord. She didn't even know that the bottom of her shirt was furled into her fists, not until they slightly jittered.
Whenever anxiety took hold of her, grabbing onto something had been her initial reflex. "You know, I see your final down there on the table. The way you describe paper shuffling like someone trying to turn the pages of a book; that's exquisite! How you make a simile with the unzipping of a bag and a knife cutting through screen?" Madeline let out a slight laugh. "You have a knack for wording things perfectly and I can now see why." Emmy watched the paper before her being flipped around, as Madeline jotted down a grade. A+ had formed; had her excitement been rocket fuel and she were its vehicle, she would have already broken through the roof of that building.
"Wow… An A plus?! Thank you!" There it was, that smile; she felt it forming and didn't care who saw it. "You're free to go Emmy! Congratulations on completing Comm. 111 and I hope to see you around the school next semester." That was all she needed to hear before her backpack was thrown around her shoulder and she exited the room. Other students were standing beside the doorway, pouring over their notes as they awaited their inevitable final. Nothing could penetrate that fuzzy feeling caressing her spine.
She took off to the left, entering a door to a set of stairs straight ahead. All throughout the school were these sets of stairs, that had been built behind the walls around major traffic areas. The steps were tightly knitted and had two sets, before reaching the next floor. Luckily, the professor handed her picture back which she couldn't take her eyes off of. Though Lizzie's face had been drawn to perfection, Emmy kept staring at the breasts. It wasn't until now, that she noticed a form of wetness drawn onto them, and saw that Lizzie's hair had been drenched in this picture. The heat filling her threatened to overflow and pour out her ears.
Keep a straight mind Em. Don't think of her that way, just go upstairs and wait for her to get finished. She allowed herself to breath slowly like before, eventually feeling the excitement from her horniness ebb away completely. She had already climbed the first set of steps and was halfway up the second when the door opened ahead. A line of students began shuffling by her, all of them talking amongst themselves.
For the most part, the others seemed uninteresting to her, and it would have applied to that day, had the mention of her friend's name not arose. "Did you see the way Lizzie sewed the piglet's leg back on? I can't believe every single tendon was attached and to perfection nonetheless!" That's my girl! Emmy nearly slammed into Lizzie as she turned full force. "I'm so sorry!" Emmy's had to swallow hard to keep herself from sounding nervous. Lizzie just laughed, waving her apology away. "Honey, you don't ever have to apologize for things like that. I should have announced myself, seeing as you… You looked to be deep in thought."
Emmy heard the concern and saw those pained eyes. She shifted a bit, with the discomfort of her friend's stare taking over. Please stop! I'm getting horny all over again… Uuuughhh. "Good god, Em! What're you doing?!" What am I doing? I'm… Oh shit! She just realized her hands were grasping the front of her pants. A section of her bottom lip had been hiding behind her teeth, which she let free. Lizzie's concerned appearance had quickly changed to worry. "Are… you okay?" Emmy tried her hardest to hide what she was about to do.
Had no one been there, behind those doors, she knew that she would've lost that sexual battle. "I didn't want you to see that… Oh god," Emmy said. Her eyes were stinging now. Oh here comes the tears! Why can't you ever-be-normal! Her head ached as she kept punching herself. "Em! Em! STOP!" Her hands were being restricted, as her friend pried them apart. What she didn't know was that Lizzie's chest was throbbing now. She had just seen the picture and grabbed a hold of it. "You probably shouldn't look at that," Emmy tried so hard to stop this from happening. Embarrassment took hold of her heart, riding it like a rodeo star.
"Damn, girl! Did you draw this?" Lizzie was biting her lip now. Be honest with her. She's seen the drawing, just don't lie. Emmy knew that her conscience was right. "I drew it at the end of my final, since I had time. Something weird happens whenever I focus on something, especially when I draw. Before I know it, there's sexual-like imagery on the paper before me and I don't even know how it came to be," Emmy replied. "Yes, I can see the sexual content, but this is me Em; this… You drew me on here." Lizzie had moved in closer, trapping her against the wall.
Despite the artwork she did, nothing could compare to the actual eyes pouring into her. Those golden hair strands, woven together like a fine silk dress and finally that pearly white smile. "I've… known you were a lesbian for a long time Em. I can see the way you stare at me and other girls. Whenever a guy hits on you, ya just shoot him down faster than your head can spin, and that's okay! It's okay to be this way. I know that homosexuality wasn't a choice; it's how you were born."
Emmy's chest ached worse than before. Her entire life, she thought that if her friend knew about this, she would've left. Now, there they were, standing nearby on a semi-darkened staircase, leering at each other without a care in the world. Her dark secret had been exposed and even then, Lizzie hadn't left her side. "Let's just head off to a hotel somewhere, okay? We can get away from all this, enjoy the couple of months we have off and just relax. Christmas is right around the corner; we can get our shopping done soon, if you'd like."
Emmy already knew her emotions were breaking her down now. She wasn't able to stop herself from lunging forward, and wrapping her arms around her friend's chest. "It's gonna be okay Em. I swear to you." Emmy nearly purred like a kitten as she felt those fingers coursing through her hair. These were the moments where she was happy they were friends. All of bad deeds of her friend's past seemed to disappear in an instant. For the short amount of time they stood there, she felt the pain that ravaged her insides disappear completely. Agony no longer would plague her life, at least not for those few moments.
* * * *
"What's wrong with me?" Samantha groaned as her head continued aching. Flashes of bright lights whipped by; a slight breeze billowed through her hair, but it didn't feel cold. "How long was she like this?" A low voice reverberated in her head. "Please stop yelling…" She just wanted the pain to end. Her entire body jerked to the left as she was rushed further down the E.R. Though she wanted nothing more than to be awake and take in all that was going on, the heaviness of fatigue drained her last bit of energy and she fell asleep.
"Honey?" the most angelic voice bounced throughout the darkness surrounding her. "Mom?" The energy that she once last had returned in full blow. As time wore on, something began to fizzle into view. Walls appeared, blinding white with a blue trim all around her, followed by a waxed stone floor. Right before her eyes, a frail woman appeared, with very thin hair. The woman had two different I.V. tubes hooked up to her, and a heart monitor. Her breaths were labored and crackly. That's the cancer. Samantha wasn't even able to stop this thought.
Just like before, it happened so fluidly as if she were reliving a memory and she knew that's what was going on. A hospital room, that's where she was. This was shortly before her mother, Rosita died. I wonder what I was wearing… Whoa! She had a long sleeved shirt on, which showed off her chest and a matching skirt, that exposed every inch of her long, thick legs. At the time she had an old pair of black jogging sneakers on. "Are you there Sam?" Her mother's voice jerked her away from herself.
"What? Y-Yeah, sorry." Her mother looked just like her, with the same nose, mouth and facial structure. Samantha knew that her eyes were inherited from her mother as well, which she thanked her for every day. "Ugh! My head…" "Migraines again?" the woman nodded, grimacing all the while. Samantha's heart was aching; she wanted nothing more than to end this woman's suffering, but didn't have the guts to do it. Instead, she began rubbing her mother's temples. The smile that she saw was all the thanks she needed.
She hadn't even realized that her arm sleeve had pulled back a bit, exposing a set of scars. "Are you…" Rosita broke off. Samantha was unable to stop the following confrontation, as her sleeve was pulled back all the way. "Jesus Sam!" As if this woman's touch electrified her, she yanked her arm away. She felt so wrong for what had been going on, yet so infuriated. How dare she judge me! "When did you get your belly button pierced? Who allowed that?" "Dad let me, and it happened when I turned sixteen. And how dare you! How dare you go off and judge me for what I've done… Don't you think I already feel guilty enough?!"
The phrases blew out of her so fast; with each wave, her mother winced. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be mercilessly picked on because you look better than someone else? Can you even fathom the thought of how I felt before I slid the razor blade across my flesh? I-had-no-other-way-out! LOOK AT THEM!" Instantly she was yanking and tearing her other sleeve down, exposing even more scars. Rosita jerked her attention away, but Samantha didn't care.
She just headed over to the side the woman was looking and showed the scars off again. "I do this for a reason Mom." She said, sliding the material back down. The more on edge she got, the more she began thinking of her music. Her foot was tapping a rhythm as she tried hard to think of something. Eminem was the first person she thought off so she started to belt out her favorite song: Lose Yourself. "I wish you wouldn't listen to that crap." She didn't need this and just ignored her mother's comment, continuing to rap. She drummed her fingers on her legs as, feeling her head swaying to and fro.
Rosita groaned, and rubbed her eyes. "I used to be pretty like you Sam. I remember when I first turned twenty one and I could drink legally. I always wore short shorts, that showed off my ass and legs perfectly. I had an hourglass figure like you do, and had the biggest pair of breasts in my college class. Despite all of this, I still stayed with your father, even though I was being hit on left and right." "What's your point?" Rosita went to answer, but Samantha felt her brain floating away.
All of what was going on around her started hitting her hard. Her mind flitted from one thought to the next rapidly. Why do I feel so depressed?! How am I even able to do this? These thoughts; these… Memories. I can hear, see, smell and feel everything, as if I went back in time. Well, Mom always told me that I had an amazing memory. She called it a photographic memory, but I never knew I'd revisit them in such detail. "A penny for your thoughts?" Rosita asked. "I'm sorry, what?" Samantha felt herself being yanked out of her mind.
"How am I doing this? How is it I'm able to just…" "Blackout?" "Yeah! That's the word. I blackout and then I go through these trances like I'm hallucinating, or something; no! It's like I pass out and dream these dreams, vividly undergoing past events like I'm in my own personal hell." Out of instinct, her fingers ran through her hair; it always seemed like a calming mechanism. Her attention kept going from her feet to her mother and then to the heart monitor. "A-Am I going crazy?" This question acted like a knife, cutting through her brain. She couldn't stop herself from freaking out. Her mother must have seen this, so she beckoned her over. "Come here honey."
Like a baby, she dropped herself into her mother's embrace, feeling that warmth from the woman's chest and the hushing in her ear. "What's happening to me Mom?" The tears refused to stop pouring and when she looked up, Rosita was gone. "Mom?" She jerked back up. A paralyzing fear formed; a mother's embrace would no longer bring her comfort. Her head was aching now; whispering voices started to speak to her. Shaking began, starting with her hands. She stared at them, with horror as the jolting continued up her arms and into her chest. "What… WHAT'S HAPPENING?!"
It was only seconds before her legs gave out, and she smacked her head hard onto the floor. A warm liquid began to run down the back of her neck as her entire body shook more violently than ever. "She's having another seizure… GET HER TO THE I.C.U. NOW!" The room that housed her mother's dying body went away. For what felt like an eternity, she was thrust back into that dark abyss. Helplessness was how she felt as she kept trying to move her arms.
"Can you hear me honey?" An unknown woman's voice broke through her fear. It sounded soft; loving even. Samantha's eyes were tearing up. It was like another angel had been whispering in her ear. Who are you? she forced these words, as if her brain was fully functional during the seizure. "My name is Dianne Orlando. I am the wife to Klyde Orlando. He truly wishes he could be here; he really does, but something came up, so to speak. He had some business to attend to and he's eager to speak with you. Just rest your head, darling. We're here to help you," Dianne's voice soothed every bit of torture in Samantha's twisting up emotions. For the first time, since her mother died, she knew love would finally penetrate her once solid heart. She heard herself giggle, smiling at the darkness before her thoughts were lost and she was gone.