“You know people can read lips and body language, right?” I ask her, neither denying nor confirming my being deaf.
She stares and narrows her eyes before turning toward her bed. “Her being deaf could make things a lot easier,” she mumbles to herself.
“Well then, it’s a damn shame I’m not deaf,” I deadpan. She spins back around, pinning her eyes on mine, speechless. I turn my back to her and set my things on my bed. She’s huffing and puffing and moving in a rush to get out the door. “Oh, hey,” I say as she’s halfway out of the room. She pauses and slightly cocks her head to the side toward me. “This is my room too. Don’t ever expect me to knock on my own door, Abby,” I warn her in an icy tone.
She straightens herself and marches out. “Bitch,” she mutters as the door slams behind her.
Nice to meet you too, Abigail Turner.
Shoving everything off the bed, I sprawl out on it and close my eyes. This is going to be a long night. I have the rest of the things I need out of my car and I need a plan. A plan to spend the least amount of time possible in this room with that chick. I’m trying out this new thing of avoiding confrontation and she is a walking, talking altercation waiting to happen. I shake the thoughts from my mind and stretch out my arms and legs. None of that matters right now; I’ll get to it all later. The only thing I’m concerned with is how good this bed feels and how heavy my eyes are. Sleep finds me in a matter of minutes.
Wisps of pink and purple hues kiss the horizon with the setting sun across the valley. A light breeze carries the dry heat, kicking the dirt into the air creating swirls like floating ashes until the dust settles and the particles fall to the desert floor. My eyes travel from the sunset in the distance to the black hole underneath the cliff I’m standing on. It’s a long way down. One wrong move and I’d be free-falling, plunging deep into the unknown. I curl my bare toes, gripping on to the edge of the sharp rocks. A gust of wind sweeps strands of hair across my face and my dress billows around my ankles.
“You always were one to play with fire.” I spin around to my mother’s soft voice behind me. I stare at her in disbelief, slowly taking her in. She’s wearing the same pale green dress that I found her in. Her makeup is light, highlighting her hazel eyes, and her light brown hair is pulled over her shoulder in a loose braid. She smiles softly, her gaze penetrating mine. “The Lion King was your favorite; always saying how you laugh in the face of danger” —her brows furrow and her smile falls— “just because there isn’t any danger, that doesn’t mean you still can’t laugh.”
I stare back at her, my mouth slightly falling open, still unable to process what the hell is going on. I glance around quickly, noting that my surroundings still haven’t changed. None of this can be real. Right?
“How are you even here right now?” My voice squeaks.
“I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want me to be,” she says, not missing a beat.
She’s wrong. I don’t want her here. She’s gone; she left us. She knew it, and she could have prevented it. I simply shake my head at her.
“Do you plan on jumping?” She motions toward the cliff. I continue to stare at her. “Your father…” She pauses. “You know he’ll be fine, right? He’s a strong man with an even stronger daughter.”
I wince when she speaks of my father. He’s a strong man; but a broken one at that. “Does it matter if I was going to jump or not?”
“It’s okay to jump, to take the plunge. You have your whole life ahead of you. Stop letting your mind weigh you down. Jump, fall, be free.” She smiles at me. “If you jump, you’ll have to feel. And to be free, you need to feel it all.”
I shake my head at her. I’m afraid to feel, because what if I forget?
“You’ll never forget, because I’ll always be right here,” she answers my thoughts, placing her hand over my heart. “I know why I’m here now; what you need me to do.”
I search her face, looking for a meaning behind her words. Finally my eyes land on hers and they shine brightly, looking right through me. She lifts up her other hand and places it on the other side of my chest. “You’re not going to jump. You need that final push…” She pauses. “From me.”
I say nothing, afraid to make a sound. I’m too lost in the moment, too confused to form a coherent response.
“I love you, Hadley.” My mother beams at me. “Don’t just laugh in the face of danger; laugh in the face of life.”
I catch one last glimpse of her face and feel her hands leave my chest, and suddenly I’m staring up at the darkening sky. My body falls swiftly through the air and plunges into the darkness.
I hit the ground hard, with a loud thud. I peel my eyelids open and let my eyes adjust to the light. Somehow, I’ve ended up somewhere on the floor. I push myself up into a half-sitting position and glance around, taking everything in and trying to make sense of it. There are two of everything; two beds, two nightstands, two dressers, two closets. Realization hits; my dorm room. My mind plays over the day, trying to piece things together. Feeling around on the floor, I find my phone and turn on the screen. Jesus Christ, it’s almost eight o’clock. I pull myself up off the floor and straighten my clothes before grabbing my car keys. Time to find my way out of here and get the rest of my shit. I’m here and gonna do this, so let’s fucking do it.
3
HADLEY
Well, talk about starting off my first night at college on the right foot. The night was uneventful and fuzzy to say the least, so I know it wasn’t too exciting. After I woke up on the floor and figured out where the fuck I was, I got the rest of my shit and somehow mustered up the energy to unpack and organize. I had just barely finished when I crashed and then had the pleasure of being woken up at God knows what time to my lovely roommate. I’ve decided that she’s either a stripper, a whore or both; but who am I to judge? All I know, is you don’t go trotting around in that pathetic excuse for clothing she had on and come home in the middle of the night smelling like perfume, cologne, smoke, alcohol, and I gave up trying to figure out the other smells without being somehow involved in the sex industry.
Whether Abby is a hooker or a stripper, as long as it isn’t affecting my life, I couldn’t care less what she does with her body.
When I finally roll out of my tiny-ass bed for the day, I’m greeted by Abby snoring like a hibernating bear. She’s buried so deeply under her covers that I’m slightly concerned for her health. I would hate for her to smother under there and die; I could end up with another roommate even worse than her. I try to carefully make a small opening for her to get some air under the blankets, but they’re wrapped so tightly and trapped underneath her, I can’t move them at all. I take a step back and stare at her, trying to see if there’s anything else to do. I shrug, taking my chances and hoping for the best.
Grabbing my clothes and shower caddy, I set off to the bathroom to freshen up for the day. I shower quickly and it doesn’t take me long to get out the door. I forgo any makeup and throw my wet hair into a messy bun. It probably isn’t my best look, but paired with a black crop top, white shorts, and tan sandals, I don’t look half bad. I drop my things off at my room on my way out and let out a sigh when I hear Abby snoring from somewhere within her blankets. At least I won’t have to watch her go out in a body bag tonight.