The Refuge
Drifting in and out through her head, a vibrating pulse sent chills down her back. Opening her eyes, looking into the half-darkness. She heard her mother slam her door, what she presumed to be her bedroom door. Listening, she walked past her room and then out of the apartment. She still heard the stomps of her sandals through the walls, going down the hall towards the elevators.
Yesterday, Bella's mother and father had fought, though she wasn't there to witness it; the stillness, however, remained visible to her senses. She heard her mother crying on her bed when she came home from school: she walked in and only peeked through the small line available to visibly see. And for the rest of that day, she stayed in her room.
Now, in her bed, no longer able to hear her mother, she rolled away from the wall. She becomes conscious of her space since nobody is there with her. She gathered her mother was going to work early. Suddenly developing the motivation to move, she reached under her bed to grab her smartphone - the time as she stretched showed 6:30. School started at 8. Remembering yesterday, she opened her messages. There, under her friend's name, Riley, it showed her own words, asking her if it was okay if she could come over. The words, as she scanned them tenderly - she remembered every facial expression she made as she thought and typed them carefully. I’m fortunate to have someone like Riley, she thought. Riley responded and told Bella she was available tomorrow and to come after her mother left for work. The many times Riley had always been available, of course, comforted the ideals of friendship within Bella. Putting her phone on the bed, she got up and walked to her closet. She chose standard sweatpants and a light hoodie and grabbed a clean towel to take a shower.
Much of Bella’s mornings were spent preserving what she held the day before; for example, if she washed her hair yesterday, then she washed her face today. And though she didn't have heavy fears driving her entirely, she still wanted to hold routine - piecing together possibilities for the day.
Since she wasn't going to school today, in delight, those fears, knowing everyone she knew would be at school, gave her the courage to use her makeup effectively, to go along with the basics of her outfit and mood. She was slightly neurotic, yet gave purpose to think self-consciously to handle any social tasks.
The phone vibrated while Bella was brushing her hair. She stopped, listened, and then another vibrant notification confirmed her ears. She sets the brush down and walks back to her bedroom. Spotting her phone, she opens it quickly to see. Becoming afraid, if suddenly, Riley had to change plans. She reads: “I'm so happy you're coming back again. Can't wait to see you.” Bella glances behind her as though she expected her mother to call her name - then, feeling the chilling pulse she walks back to the bathroom, opens the cabinet behind a mirror, and takes aspirin for her headaches. When she closes the cabinet, her only eyes reflect, and she feels strangely unnerved; the presence of her comes to a strong realization she was a girl standing in a space and existing plainly as that, all along, as though the being she sees is not similar to what she thought. Maybe a bit of makeup on my eyes wouldn't hurt, she thought. Grabbing her brush, she hoped the chills would be gone before she arrived at Riley's house. For now, she cherished it until then.
She decides to take the city bus. Just recently a decent bus station was built, just around the corner. Being nervous that her father or mother would suddenly arrive back home - before leaving, she waited ten minutes - finding it useless, she walked out of the apartment, down the stairs, and to the sidewalk. She paid the bus driver and chose the closest available seat. By now, as she stared at the world passing her, with nothing to do but wait, her fears started crawling back. Glad she chose the sweater, rubbing the cloth between her fingers to fidget. Usually, throughout the day her back would feel plump, and her belly would start to feel heavy. Luckily the light sweater would give some form of presence among herself, feeling she was in control not to overstuff her mind. Confident her support to cherish these annoyances would succumb to her, eventually.
Arriving at the bus station helped her remain proper and steady. The blue skies, and the sun shining against her sweater, a sense of contentment followed. The neighborhood where Riley lived was built recently; as she walked on the sidewalk, some houses, glancing at their basic structure, remained under construction revealing the inner skeleton of their origin. And Bella visions the path ahead, heading into an intersection, the house of Riley's sitting fondly between others just like it. The skies beyond the roof contrasted against the clouds, looking at windows all covered in white fabric, the rectangular eyes on each house watching her be pleased. Capitalizing on this confidence, she stops and chooses a small detour. And, what she captured in her decisive decision was, as she passed a small slide with swings, she opened herself a layer of relief, not fearing where she might end up. She thought: I could walk in that alley, away and beyond the hills. I'll keep going until my shoes wear to nothing. Before she could settle this completeness, her phone vibrated. Pulling her phone out, she looks at the message. “I could see you down the street. When you get here, just come in,” it says. She walks down one street and another. Finally, she found the right house and, forgetting what Riley said, she knocked before entering. It's best to practice good manners, she thought, telling herself properly.
She closes the door, loudly enough to hear Riley - “I'm in the kitchen, Bella” - glancing down, she reminds herself to place her shoes near the door. Even though she's a constant guest - walking a few steps forward, peeking around the corner, spotting stairs leading into a less brightened part of the house - Bella recognized she couldn't explore alone, especially the second floor. Taking attention to point out soon all the houses within will look identical once the neighborhood is complete. Casing this point proudly, she strolls towards and passes the entrance of the living room, and, around another corner, spots Riley at the kitchen counter. The entrance was across a diner room, having to walk around a table with red covers in the middle and white-silver around the edges.
Looking at Bella, “Oh, I'm glad you made it,” Riley said, hugging her. She turns back around and grabs two white plates, asking Bella to place them on the table. “Before she went to work, my mom made some cherry pie: your favorite!”
“Wonderful,” Bella said. She was afraid she might drop the plates, and quickly placed them on the table. Then thinking, humbling herself, she said, “Imagine if I fell while holding these,” and giggled, hoping Riley would indulge with her.
“You're a weirdo, Bella,” Riley said, giggling and turning around, taking out the pie from the oven, then laughing. “It's good you came today.” She places the pie on the counter and closes the oven. Bella watches and waits in case Riley, not knowing what, asks her if she needs to do anything else. She comes into the diner room holding the pie and thinks for a second, stopping herself, then decides to place it between the two plates, as if she suddenly developed an idea to eat in the living room or upstairs in her bedroom. “Is this fine?” Bella asks.
Riley looks at her, the windows behind her outlining her shadow on the wall opposite of her.
“It's perfect,” she says. Both pull their chairs out and sit.
For several minutes, Bella and Riley talked at the table. Riley ate her whole piece of cherry pie, and Bella only touched her fork, holding it as she talked, busying herself explaining the journey to her house. Appreciating the whole diner room since she sat undisturbed. The room, the window shining behind Riley, helped accomplish a mix of gloom and well-earned beauty; one to balance out the other. Looking around, Bella said, “It’s very clean,” unsure how to properly describe, as she thought, how all the details together work as a story, going up and through the house. I’m in the heart, Bella thought dreamily - this is where everyone comes to sit and talk - living obliviously to one another.
“Thank you. If only you could see it in the evenings; the whole place then looks right out of the movies,” Riley said. Taking a look outside through the windows, Bella reminisces when she used to play on the swings before middle school, seeing inexplicably how she, without effort, talked to other kids like her, moving just as wildly as her when they would play tag - she loved being the one being chased. They both turn back to each other. “Should we go upstairs?”
“Sure - whatever you want to do,” Bella said. They push their chairs in as Riley places the plates in the sink - “I’ll wash them later.” Set inside a small container, Bella puts her uneaten piece in the fridge. Both walk up the stairs, through the dark hall, and into one bedroom on the left.
“Hey!” Bella said, “Do you still have that doll house?”
“Of course,” Riley said joyously. With her good sneakers, a pair Bella wished she had, Riley goes to open her white closet, grabs a smaller version of her house, and sets it down on the floor. As Bella sets up the tiny furniture, Riley goes into her closet and comes back with a set of dolls, enough to fit inside the house.
“Can I be the dad?” Bella asks.
“Sure. I wanted to be a mom, anyway,” Riley says, holding a small figure of a woman with black hair, who carried one small baby in her arms. “I’ll call my baby: - Bella. So she could live the most lavish life of all,” Riley said. By then, the time was noon. For one minute they played parents, having a hard time deciding on whether to take their daughter to the mall or a diner. Another, they played as the daughters, again, but this time, deciding who between mom and dad should they go with; the dad wanted to go get ice cream and then head to the park; while the mom wanted to go to the mall for a haircut and later purchase some clothes. This, as many times Bella came over, stimulated the occurring pain, and irritably, that carried her within how she stepped into the world, school, and back home. Bella, of all, was disembodied from who she wanted to be - even if she didn't know who that was exactly - only knowing who others wanted her to be. After a long time of playing, it was already about to be three. The sun was reaching that aftermath of a long day, with a light shining against buildings of their old age and use. Looking out Riley's window, it's shabbiness around the edges; and some peeling of paint not fully finished; Bella concluded what she was feeling - and it was fear.
“I think I have to go home now. Don't worry, I know at some point I'll always have to go back,” she said depressingly.
“Okay then. I'll show you the door. Darn, I was hoping we could watch a movie later.”
Bella sighed and walked up her street. Avoiding the open sidewalks where anyone, specifically her mother in case she was coming home on the same route, would spot her. Wondering why her daughter was coming to the opposite side of the apartment. Bella knew even if she did, there was no way she had any patience to ask her questions. Nor care where she really went other than what she’s supposed to go.
She crossed the street and went inside the lobby of the apartment complex. Everything that was then, left her and waited for her whenever she returned away from home. Bella rushed up the stairs, but thought, and slowed her pace, thinking if she came in sweating then she would look exactly like how she felt: frightened. Her sweatpants, while going up another floor, she notices a white-paint stain. The floor, she thought - I must've gotten some while in the house. Before opening the door to her floor, she checks her sweater. She spots nothing.
The dark hall on her floor illuminated in her a great ambience, for wonder and escape. She takes a breath, opens her door, and closes it slowly. She listens before walking forward, hearing what she first thought was her mother already home, but once she stepped near the couch she organized no one was home yet. With the sun now reaching the lower horizon, only peeking behind the buildings outside, Bella took a pill to help her sleep, and she rested on her bed. However, after a few minutes, when she heard the stomping of sandals coming down the hall, through the walls, from the elevators to the apartment, Bella then thought: I know - I know I was gonna get in trouble for skipping school. I just need the silence to last a bit longer next time. Suddenly, her mother knocked strongly on her door, and walked in. Bella has no place to go but face her horror.
