purgatory

chapter 11

"Catfish!"

Vomit eyes; a superb smile of innocence.

"Hey Jonah!" I smiled, pushing myself between the people.

My first high school party.

They all throttled in laughter, tipping to the side, the red solo cups in hand. Making my way toward Jonah, I ducked under a stray arm, spinning to avoid a broken nose. He caught me from behind, putting his forearm over my neck and giving me a scrubbing with his knuckles.

"You're late!" he cackled, letting me go with a playful shove.

I grinned, "sorry I-"

"Jonah!"

I looked behind him, past his shoulder to where a girl was tumbling over, her flaming red hair falling into her face with every hiccup. She wore a simple white tank with cutoff shorts, that rode up her thighs and into her crotch.

"Hey Siren." Jonah sounded, reaching out a hand to steady her drunk state.

"Who's this?" Siren asked, her eyes narrowing to look at me.

"This is Katana!" He said, using my name for the first time.

"Hm."

"Hm?" I huff, crossing my arms.

She reached out, "you're cute."

Her mouth slurred, parting lips with barely audible words.

"I think you need to go home." Jonah said, looking around as he took her cup from her. She pushed her bottom lip out, pouting as Jonah motioned a shadow over.

Siren slipped from his side, pushing back into the crowd against his protest. He still held the cup, trying to reach after her as a couple guys dragged her off. Jonah looked back at me, shrugging as he finished the drink.

"Want any?" He asked coughing a bit.

I shook my head, "nah."

He shrugged again, "your loss catfish!" Taking a quick swig enforce tossing it to the ground.

The vibrations from the music tumbled into the heels of my feet. A couple people bumped into me with quite 'excuse me's.

"First party?" He asked, sampling a piece of food from his jacket pocket.

I nod in agreement.

"There's nothing to be scared of!" He jesters, putting a hand on my shoulder as he led me down a hall.

Is this his house?

Examining the pictures on the wall, I figured it wasn't.

"You might just need a breather ya' know?"

He blabbed on, oblivious to my obvious ignoring of him. He was tasteful though, opening a back screen door for me. It led to a porch, painted sky blue with a wooden swing chair.

Romantic.

"Why did you come if you didn't want to?" He interrupted himself.

"Huh? Oh. I don't know."

He grunts, "you wanna go home?"

I shook my head.

No way I can look like a prune.

"Fine by me." He said, throwing his arms in the air to stretch.

He loosely relaxed, swaying over to the swinging chair where he plopped down. Throwing one arm over the back he motioned for me to come over.

The music a loud hum, non distinguishable from the crickets chirping.

A ranch house.

I slowly walked over, crossing one arm to hold the other close by me. He leaned his head back, eyes closed and lips pursed.

Gorgouse.

"Hey catfish?"

"Yea?" I stopped.

"What's your favorite color?"

I bit the inside of my cheek, enough to evade a skirt remark. But I've never thought about it. I didn't have a favorite color. It never mattered?

He leaned his head to look at me, his eyes slightly open.

Vomit green.

"Vomit green!"

Fuck.

His eyebrows furrowed with question, but a question never came.

Vomit green is my favorite color.

"Interesting choice." He said, turning his head back to the roof.

"What's yours?" I asked nervously.

He sat up with a jerk, his hand on his knees as he leaned forward. Without a word, he points to dark sky, covered with mist as stars.

"I don't know what that colors called. But I like it."

Looks navy blue to me...

"A word can't describe my favorite color."

My cheeks burned.

Is this the same idiot I met just a few months ago.

"What's your least favorite?" I asked.

"Red." No hesitation.

I didn't want to ask.

He stood up, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. Letting out a silent whistle, he looked at me sideways.

"What's your least favorite?"

I shrugged.

I didn't have one.

He smiled half hearted, before walking past me.

"I'll be back in a minute, just thirsty."

"Oh ok!" I said, watching him disappear through the screen door.

Weird...

I inches over to the chair, slowly putting myself in the same place he was. Still warm from his skin, I melted into myself.

My least favorite color huh?

I know.

Blonde.

I stood up, racing back inside. I had to tell him, he's my best friend!

"Have you seen Jonah?" I asked, stopping a stranger in the hall.

"Saw him go upstairs!"

I walked briskly, turning sharply to the stair where I climbed with vigor. Reaching the top stair I had three doors to choose from.

I had to tell him. I had to tell him his eyes are my favorite color. And why I hate blonde.

Opening the first door; empty.

Second; a couple making out, but no boy.

I reached for the last door, twisting the knob and slamming it open.

Red.

He lay there. White tile stained with blood. His vomit green eyes now pale and lifeless.

I screamed.

Red; my least favorite color.