Star was embarrassed having to knock on the door of her own apartment. But it was cold outside—the concrete’s chill stinging her bare feet. As she waited, she sunk a little deeper into her acquired red hoodie. At least, it was clean. Heck, it felt cleaner than she did. It had been over a month since she had been home, and there was a shower inside—one with her name on it..
The door swung in to reveal a blond girl in a green flannel shirt—her roommate Blair. “Star?” she asked, rushing to enclose her in a hug.
Star stiffened at the contact, her eyes fixing on Blair’s top.
“Oh my gosh! Girl, where have you been? I’ve called you, literally, like a million times. I thought you died or something.” She pulled away and looked her over. “You’re so thin and— Wait, what are you wearing?”
“More like, what are you wearing? Isn’t that my dad’s shirt?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I got a little behind on laundry.”
“You never do laundry.” Star pushed past. “Just take dad’s shirt off. I need a shower.”
The living room was of a bohemian fashion—a sage green sectional accompanied by cream and rose colored pillows with a few wicker accouterments. Star had furnished just about everything except for a single yellow pillow and the strands of white-bulbed Christmas lights that drooped throughout the apartment. It looked just as she remembered, only messier.
Love what you’ve done with the place. The carpet was a welcome relief. The concrete had felt as if it was biting her and the flight over was even worse. Why was it so much colder in the air? Shouldn’t it have gotten warmer as we moved closer to the sun? I’m calling bullshit on Icarus’ wings melting.
“Seriously, Star, where have you been? I reported you missing and everything.”
“I... uh. I went to the hospital.”
Blair narrowed her eyes. “Oh, yeah? What for?”
“It was just a check up. Stop worrying about it.” She moved down the hall and pushed through a door on the left. Beyond lay her room. The walls were a deep blue and the light switch controlled a pair of lamps to either side of her bed. It wasn’t a well lit space, the dark walls seeming to enclose and constrict the light. But it was lit enough.
Blair crowded into the doorway behind her, seeming to take everything in as she did.
A load of laundry adorned her bed. They were strewn and seemed like they had been picked through. Hopefully, that means they’re clean.
“I’ll finish folding those while you’re in the shower.”
Star was exhausted. It only seemed like she had been gone a few days but her body was telling her otherwise. She unseated an acoustic guitar from its mount on the wall, then sat on her bed as she pulled it into her lap. She didn’t know where she was mentally, but she tried to rediscover her center by placing her hand on the instrument’s body.
Blair sat beside her. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, Blair. It’s got nothing to do with you. I’m just a little overwhelmed.” She plucked the strings and was greeted by a melody that strolled—a sound that seemed something like a farewell. For her, music wasn’t an escape; it was a return after venturing too far afield. She didn’t want to exist inside her own head. There were memories there—ones she didn’t care to live alongside. But we all had to come home sometime.
“It’s not coming back, Star. That’s the only reason you would have went to the hospital without saying anything. It’s been ten years. Just accept that you beat it, already.
Star glanced over to Blair, her blink sending tears down her cheeks. She shook her head. “I’m not going to ask again. Take dad’s shirt off.”
“Ugh! Star, you’re impossible.”
Star pushed her sleeve up, then tried turning the melody into something more relaxing. But as tears fell to strike against the polished wood, her farewell stroll became a jog, then a run. She sensed her dad’s shirt land beside her, then felt the door close as Blair left the room. Why did everyone always think they knew more about her illness than she did?
*‘It’s not contagious.’
‘It’s not coming back.’*
Had others secretly survived what supposedly had a 99% fatality rate? If so, it was time to speak up; she was tired of being the sole survivor. The simple truth was that no one knew anything. They didn’t know what it was, where it came from, or how often it would return. But it could come back. I’m dangerous. And I can’t let anyone else get sick because of me.
Blair broke Star’s concentration—an argument that was taking place in the hall outside her door, or at least, one side of it. Is she on the phone?
“What do you mean, ‘let me talk to her’? This is my phone.” The room’s door burst open. “Ugh! Star, talk to this crazy person and tell them to stop blowing up my phone.”
“Who is it?”
“Some chick named Darla. She won’t stop calling.”
Star glanced at the caller ID, but she wasn’t expecting recognize the seemingly random numbers. “Hello?”
“Star?!”
“Speaking.”
“Girl, you’ve gotta get out of there. They’re coming for you.”
“What? Who is this?”
“We don’t have time for that. Just know that the police are coming to arrest you for some reason and something tells me this is not your normal police bust.”
“Arrest?! For what?”
“Exactly!”
“But I haven’t done—”
“Yeah, we figured. But you’re running out of time. You need to get out of there and you needed to be gone like 5-minutes ago. Drop what you’re doing. Take this phone. And run.”
“Yeah. Okay.” She stood, lowering the phone, then raised it back to her ear. “Thanks by the—”
“Now, Star!”
Star jolted into motion. She grabbed a duffel bag from her closet, then started transferring the bed clothes into it.
Blair stood with her arms crossed and her hip cocked. “Uh, what the hell was that about?”
“I’ve gotta get out of here.”
“Because some rando called you on my phone? Speaking of... What did you do with it?”
“I need it. I’ll get it back to you later.” Star pushed past her, entered the bathroom, and started gathering toiletries.”
“Uh, no. I will literally die without my phone. What’s wrong with yours?”
“I don’t know, Blair. I must’ve lost track of it somewhere between getting drugged by the hospital and abducted by a dragon.”
“What?” she responded, shaking her head. Her eyes suddenly widened. “You’ve been doing drugs. That’s what this is. And now you owe money to the wrong people. And they’re coming to collect. So, you’re getting out of town. And—”
“Blair. Just stop talking.” She zipped her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and made for the door.
“Well, where will you go? And how long will you be gone?”
“I have no idea.” She shook her head and reached for the front door.
Blair suddenly embraced her from behind. “Just take care of yourself, would you?”
“Yeah. You too.” She pulled the door open, revealing two officers in full riot gear, their eyes widening as they swung a door battering ram forward through the now open door.
Oof! The black cylinder struck Star in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. She doubled over.
“Get on the ground!” the officers shouted as they stampeded into the apartment.
Star was hoisted and carried out, vaguely aware of officers speaking to her. She held her stomach and cried. Why is this happening?
Paypal
