Trance

Chapter Eleven: That's Illegal

Suddenly, the excitement burns out as I stare at her car. Matsya slams the car open, the car creaking as she does. It's a small car, mint colored and odd. Honestly, I expected Matsya to own a motorcycle or something more on the verge of death. Instead, she brings out a small car that I would expect a grandma to drive.

"This is your car?" I ask, opening the door as the scent of male deodorant hits me. With a breath in, I gag and start to cough. "You're a deodorant addict?" My questions swirl in my head and instead of asking them, I slide into the seat while taking a sip of my lemonade drink.

"I borrowed Amir's car for the night," she explains and she leans back to the seat at the back of the car. I watch her and spot some cans -- of deodorant? Who's Amir anyway? Her boyfriend? A recovering addict of deodorant?

She brings a can back, shaking it as I read the label. In white writing over the black covering of the cylinder, the label clearly states it's a spray can. My hand grabs it from her red painted nail, gasping at in horror. "You want me to tag my parent's house?!" I exclaim. "Did you forget it's kind of illegal?!"

Matsya smiles at me as I glare at her. It's one of her rare genuine smiles, she's having fun with this. "It's past eleven. We'll paint a few rainbows and leave while your parents snore away," she answers, taking the can out of my hands before throwing it at the back.

"How do you make it so casual?" I mutter, looking out at the window while Matsya starts the car. The bright lights of the third floor blind me slightly and strangely, I can't hear a sound. Maybe the rooms are sound proof. "Why do you have spray cans lying in your car?"

With a sigh, I point to the right and Matsya turns the car. "Amir likes to paint," she states, her eyes determined on the road. At least she's not trying to get us killed, even though in a few hours we might end up in jail. Silence overtakes the car and for a few moments we sit, quiet as ever with nothing but the street lights left to guide us.

Finally, I spot the red house. It takes my breath away and for a moment, my heart stops while staring upon my childhood home. Memories surge past me, reminding me of what I've lost. Moments were painfully taken away from me, family members, everything I knew had been torn away years ago.

Everything that I knew as a child had been broken in half in a day. All these moments were forced to be packed away as a slight scar is left on my heart. Still, I can heat my laughter floating in the air as I played with the neighbours, I can remember swinging on the swing that now limply lies under the tree, sitting alongside my mother as she read me a story before I fall asleep and my father's reassuring voice.

The memories are intoxicating me, each one a stab in the heart. My parents don't care about me anymore - I was never good enough for them. More than anything, I long for them, for warm arms to wrap themselves around my waist and let these tears spill.

My head drops down and I use my hands to hold it. It's as if everything is moving too fast and I'm finally realizing what's happening. Tear droplets fall to the car's carpet. Frantically, I wipe them away and face Matsya. "I'm sorry, I can't do this," I state, my voice croaky compared to before.

Her eyes peer into mine, filled with warmth and worry. More than anything, I want to climb out of the car. I'm not meant to be emotional, not infront of someone like Matsya. In a few weeks, I've managed to show her my most devastated side without knowing her. My hands drop to my side and I watch out of the window, towards the neighbor's house.

"It's okay," she says, her hands enveloping mine with her warmth. Instead of asking why, she remains silent. Maybe she understands that everything is moving too fast. I've removed myself from my old life, I've removed traces of it everywhere and tried to distance myself from it.