Fly Me Away

Oh God. What was going on?

I opened my eyes.

The room was spinning. My hot face was smooshed against a cold red wall and I was perched high up on a bench top of sorts. I blinked, then widened my eyes a few times, hoping to recover some form of proper vision. I saw two people standing under a doorway arguing with each other, but I couldn’t distinguish gender. One was tall, one was short. I fixed my gaze on them, trying to adjust.

“Let’s just go…” a high pitched voice whined. I wasn’t sure whether it was my impaired vision, but it looked like she was grabbing the other person in all sorts of inappropriate places.

“But she….Mary, ease up….” It was a boy with her. Made sense. He groaned in a way that made me blush.

“Come on, if we go now nobody will know! She’s totally out of it. Come on….”

Were they talking about me?

“She’s hurt.”

“Ugh, eyes on me lover boy. You can have all of this, or you can save that random drunk girl, who’ll probably just throw up on you.”

“….well, she’s pretty, at least.”

Thanks.

“Excuse me? She’s a mess and I’m hot…in more ways than one way. You can help me with that right?” Her voice was sickening.

I didn’t like that girl, but the boy seemed somewhat sensible. His only downfall being his completely natural level of testosterone…

I partially zoned out. I was putting too much strain on my eyes, but my ears seemed to be working to an extent. I felt my head slip against the wall more. Their talking suddenly turned into quiet whispers and I was out of the loop. After another moment of annoying whispering, there was a girlish giggle, followed by an almost silence. They’d left the room. The only sound now was the raging party next door, drowned out by sound proof walls, but not completely.

What was that about me being hurt? I lifted my eyelids up again with great effort, deciding it would be best to check. I inwardly high-fived myself – common sense still apparent.

I was in a kitchen, that much was obvious now; the sink beside me, the stainless steel benches, the smell of butter popcorn and old pumpkins. Did Danielle have two kitchens? This wasn’t the one I remembered, the one with the chiller that kept presenting itself to me….

Ugh, I felt terrible. What the hell had happened? I couldn’t remember.

I close my eyes again, but was startled back awake when a girl walked into my nice empty room and screamed like a banshee. I didn’t recognize her at all. She had black hair and a pretty green dress. It was my favorite color….such a soft, pleasant green. She screeched once more before spinning on her heels and leaping back out of the room.

I was so tired that it barely registered. The walls smelt like old vegetables and it made my stomach churn. The door opened again and I pried my eye lids up.

“Oh God…. are you….Maggie McQueen?” It was another girl this time, but she wasn’t screaming, nor did she have a nice green dress. Her long strides made me unbearably dizzy and I flopped my head back against the wall, closing my eyes again.

“Maggie, your gunna be okay. I’m gunna go get help,” she soothed, but her voice was just a muffled murmur bouncing off the walls to me. She rushed out the door as quickly as she’d come in and slammed it behind her.

…help? Did I need help?

I opened my eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time and immediately saw the problem. It was something so simple and painless, but it looked gruesome – My hand was drenched in thick red blood.

My breath started hitching and I lifted my hand up and down like a puppet. I assessed my situation - it didn’t hurt, it just felt heavy and looked disgusting. I was too afraid to get up and do something about it. It was a bit like when somebody stabs you, and you’re not supposed to take the knife out or you’ll bleed to death.

So I waited.

I waited and waited and waited. That girl was going to help me. I didn't know what the time was, but I guessed by the noise emitting from next door that it wasn't too late. Kelly and the other girls would still be out there, oblivious to my sitiation, I just needed to call them. Karina could take me home.

I was waiting there for so long. My mouth was dry and there was an angry lump in my throat; had she forgotten me? I didn’t think I could scream loud enough to be heard through the wall…

“Help…” I called meekly; my voice was husky and sore. I needed water urgently.

Well, there was a tap beside me, so scanned the immediate area for a cup. I had to do something to keep my mind busy.

Nothing….nothing….something.

There was a coffee mug within reaching distance, but it had a decent sized chip taken out of the side, not that I cared as long as it could still hold water. I groaned and lifted my weight from the wall; my body was creaking from lack of movement, combined with just general soreness. I hoped all my blood wasn’t running out of me as I dawdled around.

I reached for the cup with my good hand and slipped my fingers in the handle. It weighed down my weak arm as I tried to lift it and I felt all my strength leave me. It fell to the ground and smashed across the linoleum.

I just stared.

….I wanted to go home. I should have called him so long ago. My eyes started watering, followed by quiet, pitiable whimpers. I had just about given up hope when I saw something flicker out the corner of my eye and my heart leapt to my throat like a jackrabbit.

An angel.

I was completely overwhelmed when I noticed him there, standing in the doorway. His beautiful peppermint eyes were trained on my bloody hand, burning with something I couldn’t decipher in my weakened state. My body swelled with affection, finding a new source of energy.

“Jackson,” I croaked desperately, holding my shaky arms open to him.

He floated to me, and it didn’t make me dizzy like the other girl had. He was so fluent, everything about him made me feel better. He gave me what I wanted, leaning down so I could wrap my arms around him. His hand stroked the hair across my back only for the briefest moment before he pulled away. My sudden burst of energy was too short lived. I tried to keep him close.

“Oh Maggie,” he whispered, concerned, as he gently pulled my red hand down so he could examine it. His hair and his eyes were wild, like he’d just come from a hurricane, but his actions were so tender and careful. He passed my hand between the two of his, peering at it, but not striking any sore spots.

I sighed; finally in good hands. My sweet, perfect, beautiful Jackson was with me again; something that I remembered missing all night. I’d been so consumed in trying to distract myself, just for a little bit, that I’d drowned in alcohol and got completely lost.

“You came,” I squeaked, then cleared my throat painfully. I watched a few stray tears fall onto his shirt.

“I’m sorry I took so long.”

I tried to shake my head furiously, but it happened in slow motion. He shouldn’t be apologizing.

“You're here,” I cried this time.

He sighed and it made me shrink. I didn’t like that sound – the sound of him doubting himself.

“I should have been watching you. I should have been there to stop this.”

I shook my head slightly, but he was too busy to notice. He cradled his arm around my body and shuffled me closer to the still trickling tap. I swayed violently in the other direction, but he was an unmovable object. I flinched when the water hit; icy cold, I could feel it now. I closed my eyes and pushed my face as close to the crook of his neck as I could, trying to focus my mind on that clean scent of his.

The sound of the water hitting the metallic sink was soothing, as was his tranquilizing angel drug. I was so close to him, and it was so strong. I was blissfully calm.

All too soon, he tried to step away, for whatever reason. What made it difficult for him was the fistful of his shirt in my free hand. I didn’t remember grabbing it, but I was putting a lot of effort in. He smiled at me sympathetically, but unlocked my hand with ease.

“Are you…. leaving?”

I was ready to get on my knees and beg him not too.

He frowned, thinking something over, “I need something to dress your hand with.”

He had that look on his face, like he was contemplating asking me if I wanted to go too. I nodded, no doubt in my mind I wanted to be wherever he was.

“Can you stand?” he asked uneasily.

I tried straight away, boy did I try, but Jackson intervened before any damage could be done. He materialized directly in front of me and I snatched him up before he could step away. My whole forearms pressed up against his chest and I gripped his shoulders, ignoring my bleeding hand. He didn’t complain. The blood that speared onto the left shoulder of his shirt was quickly pooling, but he took no notice. Without flinching, he gently held me by the waist and pressed my face against his solid chest.

“Poor thing,” Jackson whispered then chuckled quietly.

I felt Jackson calming me and it was wonderful. The soft material of his shirt was cool against my hot cheek, I melted into him. My head was still spinning, and if I was sober, it would have been spinning in a good way. But I wasn’t. My stomach was churning in squiggly disgusting patterns.

“Is my hand okay…?” I croaked, my voice breaking in several places.

“You’re alright. Just a cut.”

“..okay.”

Relief.

I smiled and tried to snuggle up against him more. Jackson was being remarkably cooperative. He shuffled closer until he was right up to the edge of my bench, giving me the opportunity to let him take all my weight. I eagerly took advantage and slumped my shoulders into him too. I shivered when he ran a hand along my spine.

“I’ll fix it, you just need to—”he stopped mid-sentence, hearing something I couldn’t “….ah perfect.”

Someone came crashing through the door, “Maggie?!”

She was tall and tanned with a powerful build and spiraling dark hair. She looked uncomfortable in the dress she was wearing, like it wasn’t her usual attire. This was Danielle, the birthday girl, all dressed up and fumbling around with a large first aid kit in her hands.

“Oh my God!” She squealed, completely ignoring Jackson and rushing up to me on heavy feet. She had been drinking too, but fair enough. It was her party. At least she came to help. Her hand shot out and grabbed my wrist roughly. I gasped in pain, trying to pull away but not wanted to be rude.

Jackson stepped in and moved the birthday girl away from me gently. She blinked at him a couple of times, obviously missing him the first time around, then she smiled, racing her eyes over him excitedly.

He smiled politely back, “you are Danielle? Could I take that off your hands?”

He was gesturing towards the first aid kit. She nodded, bewildered, and passed it to him. Strangely enough, watching Danielle gawk and fumble around made me feel sober, compared to her at least. Now I was just tired and sore.

“This is your boyfriend Maggie? Holy shit!” She grabbed his bicep and started squeezing it shamelessly, “how much can you bench press? You look like you could swing a racket good!”

I tried to laugh. Danielle was harmless, she’d been with her childhood sweetheart for 5 years. Jackson took it like a trooper and politely brushed her off, whilst rummaging through the first aid kit.

He took my hand and placed some material on the area on my palm, just below my thumb. I winced, but it was the good kind of pain. The pain that let you know he knew what he was doing.

“…is she gunna be okay?”

Danielle leaned against the metallic bench and watched Jackson’s elegant hands at work. He nodded, not looking up from the dressing, “it’s just a cut. Not too deep. Do you remember how it happened Maggie?”

I didn’t want to answer. I wanted to be as together and well-mannered as him, but the fact was, I was still recovering from severe intoxication. If Jackson wasn’t there, I’d have been out like a light. I sighed, “No. I don’t…. remember anything….”

“Glass,” he frowned, and looked up at me form under his eyebrows. I tried to look apologetic, I really was sorry for the hassle I was causing.

Danielle’s eyes were darting around the room distractedly now. She was fidgety and I could tell that she didn’t really want to be there with us anymore. She had her party to go to, and Jackson could take care of my mess for me, as per usual. And, to my utter dismay, he would never complain about it.

I opened my mouth to tell her to leave, but just sat there dumbly, swaying a little bit and staring at her. She raised an eyebrow.

Jackson helped me out, “you can go Danielle, enjoy your party. I’ll take this one home.”

“Alright.” I almost scoffed at her quick response, but it was just the alcohol thinking for her. “See you at school Maggie, hope you survive the night.”

She winked devilishly, then pointed a finger at Jackson, before bounding out the door. She was a nice girl, but we would never work as good friends. She was too sure of everything. Such a strong confident personality – we would surely clash.

Once we were alone again, I directed my attention back to Jackson, who had been focused on my hand for the past 10 minutes. I looked down at it again and was pleasantly surprised; still attached, and cleanly dressed with a fancy looking white plastic dressing. With all the fright that came from my hand gone, my worry was immediately directed elsewhere.

Kelly’s dress.

I peered past my hand and caught sight of the deep red blood stain on the midnight blue material. I Knew it was a bad idea to wear it. The noticeable blotch ran from my left hip, right down to the hem – at least a few centimeters wide. There was no way I would ever get that out. Jackson stepped back as I twisted around and scanned furiously for more blood.

“Don't worry about it.”

His soft voice immediately wiped my mind of the panic, and I steadied my view on his pretty eyes. When he spoke, I listened. If he thought I shouldn't worry then I wouldn't. He smiled gently and pushed some hair off my face, “are you ready to go?”

“Yes,” I answered immediately, drifting closer to him subconsciously. I wanted nothing more.

Well, that wasn’t true. My throat burned as I thought about it.

I hesitantly took my eyes off him and stared at the broken cup on the floor longingly. Jackson's gazed quickly followed.

“...water?” he questioned, reaching down and picking up the biggest chunk of the broken cup. I nodded, embarrassed. I was so dehydrated that my throat was raw and the inside of my mouth was sticking to itself.

I don’t know where he got it form, but a glass appeared in his hand in a snap. It was a juice glass, tall and thin, and he was quickly filling it with water for me from the tap. His warm fingers, picked up my cold ones and wrapped them around it securely; he didn’t even think I could hold up a glass.

“I’ve got it,” I urged, focusing everything I had on keeping the glass balanced in my unsteady hand.

The glass didn’t have time to fall as it made its way to my mouth in record time. I didn’t care that it tasted like metal, because it just felt so good. The dryness of my mouth was immediately cured, but my throat would take a bit more than that. I’d been pretty rough on it. I finished the glass eagerly within a few seconds. He swiftly took it from me, refilled it, then handing it back. I almost felt like snatching it, I was that thirsty.

After glass number three, I was decently hydrated. My eyelids were so heavy now; time to sleep.

Wordlessly, Jackson hooked one arm around my back and one under my knees, then eased me off the bench. I got an initial shock, but it was all quickly washed away and my eyelids finally dropped, not showing any signs of opening again. I was calm enough to melt into a puddle.

I felt his lips press against my forehead softly, then again on my temple. I sighed and rubbed my face into his shirt. He even smelt like calmness.

"Don't leave me again," I murmured into the material.

"I'll be there when you wake up."

I was asleep before we'd even left the room.