Drifting

Carson lay there in the strange house and her body ached and her mind felt simultaneously numb. The television was playing in the other room and it’s noise, but she can’t make sense of the words. It’s all the same mindless entertainment that is meant to distract us from our lives. It was all bullshit.

The blankets were warm, too warm. The room was dark and stuffy and hot. Even with the air conditioner sweat broke out across her body, making everything stick to her. God, the night time in Florida sucked. Why did anyone live here? Her body ached and her forehead throbbed. The day of lugging around heavy musical equipment, yelling at Josh to put pants on, running around nonstop in uncomfortable flats, and arguing with the venue when they refused to let them park within 4 blocks of the venue. Bullshit. Carson had dealt with shitty bullshit fuckery all day.

A cigarette was needed.

Her hands twisted her wavy dark brown hair into a knot on top of her head, securing it tightly with a hair tie. Gripping her BlackBerry in one sweaty palm and lighter and cigarette case in another, she checked on the band as she quietly made her way outside. The moment her bare feet touched the cool brick of the patio a small, relieved sigh escaped through her full lips.

“It’s so fucking hot here.” John’s voice said from the other side of the patio, making Carson jump slightly, and then relaxed noticing her friends face.

“I hate Florida.” She groaned and plopped down in a rocking chair next to him as he blew a puff of smoke into the night. With an easy flick the lighter produced a small, blue flame. After two long drags, Carson looked at John. It was so dark that she could just barely see his face when he inhaled, causing the cigarette to glow red for a moment. He looked as tired as she imaged she looked.

“You all right, Car?” He asked, glancing over at her.

“I’m really… in a funk today I guess? I dunno… Tour isn’t fun for me right now. It feels like so much work and I know it’s my job, but usually it doesn’t feel like work. Typically I’m stoked to spend my time seeing the country with my friends, watching music and meeting kids every night. But lately, I don’t know if my medication isn’t working anymore or what, but I… I just feel sad.”

“It’s okay to be sad sometimes, you know that. Some days are better than others and some days just go right into the shitter.” John readjusted in his seat, looking more closely at her. “If you need anything, or if you feel like you’re slipping again, just tell me and I’ll help you get through it.”

She inhaled a breath, this one shaky. “Thanks, John.”

“You know I got cho back girl!” He winked and flicked the butt of his cigarette out into the blackness. Carson smiled feebly and brought her knees to her chest, watching the red ember fly through the black, as if in slow motion. “I can’t wait to start going north again. I need to get out of this humidity; it’s doing horrible things to my hair.” With that he did a dramatic hair flick and she actually let out a laugh. “Well mission accomplished, I’m going to bed. Night, Bird.”

“Night, BabyGo.” John laid a hand on her shoulder as he walked past her and into the house. “Thank you,” she softly called after him and he turned and smiled before closing the door.

A deep sigh escaped her lips and she closed her eyes, letting the small breeze slightly sway the hair that fell around her face. He was a sweet boy, but he would never get it. Carson would never tell anyone the whole truth on just how numb she was.

“…Depression is not sobbing and crying and giving vent, it is plain and simple reduction of feeling… People who keep stiff upper lips and find that it’s damn hard to smile.” –Judith Guest author of Ordinary People