Cherry Pies, You and I (P.S the Devil Lies)

Becoming

When Sabrina slept, she usually dreamed.

When she was younger she dreamed of Diana and Edward. They went to parks, brushed her hair, and walked her to school. For a few years in the latter half of middle school and the first year of high school, she had dreams of marrying Harvey Kinkle in the mortuary's viewing room.

Senior year brought a hazy feeling of Nick's hands sliding along her bare skin, and pleasure lighting up every nerve in her body. It was a dream that came to fruition one lazy spring evening after a countless number of teasing kisses and a smuggled bottle of red wine.

Her dreams were still now, lingering beyond the edge of where she could see. For the first time, there was only darkness, and, for that, she was grateful. It should have been crushing, all-consuming, and absolute, but it wasn't. It was a welcome reprieve from the endless waves of seemingly insurmountable pain.

It was a miracle that her respite lasted as long as it did. She couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour or two. Sunlight was still streaming through the windows, and if she had to guess it couldn't be any later than three in the evening. Marie wouldn't be home until after dark. She had plenty of time to pack her things and be gone before then.

Pushing herself off of the floor took strength she didn't know she had. Red indentations from the carpet marred her pale skin. She rubbed her hands along them until they faded into nothing. Her face was sticky with tears, and she was thirsty. She had spent a long time wandering out in the hot sun, far outside of the Eden she had found. This is what it must have been like when Adam and Eve were cast out.

She drank several glasses of water before heading to the spare bedroom to collect her things. Her clothes were in the closet and pictures of her family were on the bedside table. Her makeup littered the bathroom counter, and her shoes were tucked neatly by the door.

Slowly, she tucked away the clothes she kept in the drawer of the bedside table in the backpack she hadn't touched since she arrived. Halfway through the clothes in the closet, she remembered she had acquired more things and realizes that not everything will fit. She debated going into Marie's room to look for a suitcase but paused with her hand on the doorknob.

She couldn't intrude on her private space and then just disappear. Her hand slipped away, and she headed to the kitchen. Marie always kept the reusable grocery bags in the pantry. Her fingers curl around one and she headed back. She spotted her reflection in a mirror in the hallway. Her concealer was streaked with mascara-tinted tears and a piece of her hair stuck to her cheek.

She pried it off before finishing packing up her things and heading to the shower.

Sabrina had always liked to take warm showers, but this was burning hot. It was compensation for warmth and love. She let the water embrace her and heat up her stone-cold body. She sat on the floor of the shower and scrubbed the makeup off her face. Black and red streaks stained her fingers and washed down the drain, and she's struck with horripilation. She's isolated. She's on her own again. She sits there until the water runs cold.

The mirror was covered with fog when she got out. When she wiped it away she saw herself, and she didn't think she'd ever looked so small. The fluffy towel she wrapped herself in just seems to swallow her whole. She casts her eyes downward and shuts off the light. She doesn't want to look anymore.

She gathered up her makeup in the dark. She got dressed in the dark and wrapped up the pictures of her family in one of her tops in the dark. She slipped on her headband and shoes in the dark because she longed for the darkness of her dreams and the comfort it brought.