Chasing Mickey; A Novel by A. Wademan (WORK IN PROGRESS)

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟛

"As quickly as that name came to me, I'd blurted it out. But I don't know why."

"Well, no one we know is named Mickey, and if there was a girl as pretty as her around here, I probably would've snatched her up real quick. She sounds like an angel, Maya," Keisha sighed, staring at the stars projected onto my bedroom ceiling. The gentle whirring of the machine and the soft rustle of the bedsheets were all that I could hear.

I sighed, almost growling under my breath as I sat up on my bed and rested my head in my hands. The butterfly earrings hanging from my earlobes softly bounced against my head as I shook it, running my fingers through my hair. Behind me, Keisha stirred, laying a hand on my back, rubbing up and down.

"C'mon hun, we gotta figure this out. You look like you haven't slept in days," Keisha hummed, worry tainting her voice.

"'Cause I haven't. It sounds so stupid, but every time I close my eyes to do anything other than blink, I just see her. Sometimes she's just standing there, staring past me, and sometimes she's lying on the ground in front of me or something..." I trail off, remembering the sickly yellow tint of her flesh when she's lying on the ground, lifeless.

"Doing... what?" Keisha urges.

"Nothing. Sometimes she's sleeping, other times she looks like she's thinking, but sometimes she's... she looks dead. Sometimes I can see scratches and marks and little scabs bubbling with blood onto her clothing or into her hair. She's just rotting there, dead and dull and empty and almost comatose," as I spill everything out, I can't breathe. I feel dizzy, and my stomach churns at the thought of the girl's decaying body.

Even in death, though, she looks better than angelic.

Eww, Maya. This is an imaginary girl you're been seeing in your head.

Stop thinking this bullcrap.

"Maya, do you need a Tylenol? You don't look so good," Keisha asks, but she sounds farther away than farther away, like I'm on a boat sailing away and she's on a dock a million miles away.

Then suddenly, black.

—————

"Maya, stop."

"C'mon Mickey! Why do you have to be so boring?" I snapped, tired of her complaining. I could feel my face growing hot with anger.

Her jaw dropped, and her face froze. She looked surprised, but her eyes flashed with hurt.

"Michelle, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I swear-"

"Yeah? Well you said it, so, obviously, you did."

I stared at her. I couldn't believe she was going to do this. It was her birthday, and we were headed into town to celebrate, I can't believe she was going to do this. I had been poking fun at her and she'd snapped and I can't believe she was going to do this.

"I'm just going to go home, Maya. I'm not it the mood. We can try again tomorrow or some other time when I'm not annoyed by you," she sighed, crossing her arms and turning on her heel, starting to walk back to her house.

Yeah, right. Tomorrow. Or next week. Or next month. Maybe even next year when I try to treat her for her birthday again, maybe not even then, I though, frustrated.

"Michelle what's wrong?" I plead.

"Maya I-"

"No, Michelle. You're always pissed at me now. What's going on?"

"Nothing, Maya. I'm serious, don't ask again."

I stare at her, and I can tell that the hurt I felt was etched on my face because her expression softened and she sighed.

"I just have something to figure out, okay?" She murmured.

I look up from my shoes and nod my head, meeting her gentle gaze. I turn around again, deciding to take the long way home.

—————

"Maya! Oh my god!" Keisha screamed. My head was pounding again, but I was glad my parents were on a trip this weekend.

"God, Kei, I'm fine. This is practically my new normal," I groaned, sitting back on my bed next to Keisha. She flopped backwards, then tugged at the back of my sweatshirt. I lay down next to her, our heads slightly touching.

Being so close to her like this, I can feel the heat emitting from her face. I turn my head a little to face her, and I can see the red color of her cheeks.

"Kei? You okay?" I ask.

What am I doing?

Stop, Maya.

"Yeah, Maya. I'm okay," she whispers, facing me. Her eyes latch onto mine, and she links our fingers together. My body goes numb and limp, and I don't oppose her actions. My heart starts to beat a little faster.

Maya, stop.

Maya, don't.

Maya, Maya, Maya.

This is wrong.

She leans in a tiny bit, and so do I. As soon as I move my face closer, she meets me in the middle, connecting our lips briefly. Her lips are coated in strawberry ChapStick, and when she quickly pulls away, I can still taste it on my own.

Maya.

What have you done?