Stained Glass Souls (Wattys 2014, Collector's Dream Award Winner)

Ariel: Running from Memory Lane

"Living is Easy with Eyes Closed." ~ John Lennon
***

(Ariel)

There is a cute boy staring at her.

For the past hour she had huffed and puffed her way through another grueling treadmill session, trying to ignore him and the dirt on the ceiling, the way the walls of the gym curved closed like a box, hemming her inside. Strands of black hair fell loose from her headband, sticking to her face and falling into her eyes. She could see her reflection in the wall of mirrors opposite to her, and she was red-faced, bedraggled. Mascara was forming black smudges underneath her eyes. She lifted a shaking hand to wipe it away. No matter hard she scrubbed, it wouldn’t budge. It reminded her of sin – how she scrubbed so hard to make it go away. She had smiled bright, stood in line, bowed her head, wore her heart on her sleeve. None of it was enough. The stain remained, dark and foreboding.

The treadmill beside her beeped loudly as the boy slowed. He dug his iPod out of his pockets, tapping a few buttons, and the banging rock music that had been drifting her direction faded to silence. He was staring again.

And then, suddenly: “I wish I could do that.”

Ariel jerked, startled. Her feet slipped and she lurched to one side, arms flailing as she tried to right herself. Dots swam over her eyes – equilibrium, she thought. Just equilibrium. It couldn’t have been because breakfast was ten carefully counted almonds (100), or that she drank her coffee black (0). She could still feel the bitterness lingering behind her tongue, sticking in her throat. It tasted like mud sliding down her throat.

Anya hadn’t even noticed. She had been sitting in the window seat of the kitchen, downing another “internal regulation” smoothie, this one suspiciously green and grainy. She continued tapping away on her laptop, pausing to stare into the sunrise as Ariel had wandered downstairs. She didn’t spare a glance to comment on the sneakers or tight, pink yoga pants Ariel had been wearing, ones that showcased the extent of her hard work.

When Ariel put them on, she had stood in front of the vanity for a long time, staring at the gap between her legs. It didn’t seem right that there should be a space that wide. Each thigh curved carefully away from the other, like outlines of an hourglass put side by side. No matter how she bent her knees, tried to squeeze her thighs together, training to make them touch, they refused to meet. It was frightening. Exhilarating. She didn’t know which emotion to accept, and came to breakfast wondering if her mother would notice. Would she stop her? Would she care? She hadn’t even noticed.

All of this flashed through Ariel’s head in the millisecond it took for her to regain her balance. When she glanced back at the boy he looked amused, generous lips curved up into a smile. Something was odd about him, different, and then she realized: his lips were so red. Not natural red, or snow-white red, but a dark, blackish red. The color of half-dried blood.

“I’m sorry?” She was out of breath, and her voice came out high and tight. Her furious running slowed to a jog.

The boy stretched, the bottom of his white muscle shirt rising over his stomach. His skin was tan, a sharp, startling contrast to most of the weak-skinned people who inhabited this tiny town. “I said,” he repeated with a lazy smile, “I wish I could do that.”

Ariel forced herself to keep jogging. 10 minutes left. 300 calorie burn needed. The chicken she had eaten for lunch was rising up in her mouth, threatening to choke her. Her stomach churned. “You wish…you could do…what?”

He began swinging his arms, stretching in front of her as if it were the most casual thing in the world. “Block out the world.”

It was so unexpected that Ariel felt a flicker of unease. What, exactly, was he insinuating? Block out the world. She looked at herself in the mirror again. The wide-eyed, confused, scattered expression on her face didn’t remind her of a person capable of blocking out the world – just of one easily consumed by it.