Landfill

I left my parents home, and to my new apartment within the next two days. I managed to get over my feelings, working numbly to move everything in. By New Years Eve my apartment was decorated; Jimmy loved it.

I had a small back yard with a large tree that Jimmy climb and clawed at. One bedroom, one bathroom, and a nice kitchen. Everything fit, it felt like a real home, I feel in love with it once everything was set.

Lisa and Elaine had come and helped, and stayed with me the first night. I liked it more when I was alone; I kept the patio door open for Jimmy and let the cool desert air flow in. I was letting myself feel things around me than inside, and inside my head.

On New Years Eve, though, my parents invited me to another party. At first, I had declined, but my mom had begged me to attend; so I came over and let her dress me up. It was the fact that I was numbing myself, doing whatever my mom ushered me to do. My body went with it, my head didn't think about it as intently as it would've. I was a puppet, half-mindlessly a zombie.

My mom dressed me in this super tight black, lacy dress that hit the floor. She allowed me to wear flats, and curled my hair. The make up was light; contours of shades she explained that I didn't listen to. When she was done, she and my dad led the way to the car. This time, the drive was short, still quiet while I listened to my father play Mozart, and tap his fingers against the steering wheel.

I thought nothing.

We finally arrived, my mom held my hand, following ahead of my father. The place wasn't a home at all; it was more of a dance hall, draped in burgundy velvet and black balloons. The hostess spoke to my mom and dad before handing us dark masquerade masks; "It's a party." The hostess grinned at me with pearly white teeth, dark eyes and equally dark hair; she was putting on a mask as well, with feathers and pink and black beads.

I put in my own that was black decorated with purple swirls with white dots. I didn't get a look at my parents, for they were off somewhere. I lost sight of them and went off on my own, finding the punch table.

As I drank the spiked punch, I finally had a thought; I thought how dumb this party was. I hated the masks, everyone around looked like fools, but, I kept mine on, looking around at everyone still.

After what felt like eternity, I began to head towards the exit that I spotted a man exiting through. I needed air and to get the mask off. Outside, the man was lighting a cigarette; the area was quiet, the street lamp gave some light as night was full, the moon shining somewhere else.

"Could I have one?" I asked the man, lifting the mask up.

The man froze and nearly dropped the cigarette from his fingers. He quickly removed his mask, and I froze too; "Nikki, we've been looking for you!"

Spencer Smith stood a few feet from me, grinning like an idiot. I frowned and stepped back; "We?"

"Me and Ryan! He's inside."

"What the hell are you doing here?" I growled, snapping away from my struck dumb state.

"Ryan said that your parents come here every year. He was hoping you'd be here," Spencer's eyes lit up like a child at a toy shop. "He's gonna--"

I cut him off harshly, "Don't you dare tell Ryan I'm here!"

He frowned, "Why not? The guy's been dying--"

"Fuck him." I spat.

He sighed, his voice trailed, "C'mon..."

"No." I took the cigarette from between his fingers. "I broke up with him for a reason. I do not want to see him."

Spencer frowned, "He wants to talk to you. Just 5 minutes."

I took a long drag, shook my head, protesting the idea of seeing Ryan; "No. Not 5 minutes, 2 minutes. Not even 30 seconds!"

Spencer just looked at me. Silence heavy, he exhaled, "Okay. Okay, fine. Fine."

I watched him return inside, leaving me alone. I leaned against the wall and continued to smoke the cigarette patiently. I hadn't smoked in a while, the deep inhales relaxed me more and more. I kept my back against the wall, smoking the cigarette past the filter and then tossed it. I exhaled the smoke, watching it fog away into the sky, mingling into the air as nothing, invisible to my eyes.

I shut mine, listening not thinking, and then the exit door opened. Still, I didn't open my eyes.

"Holy shit." I heard, causing me to open my eyes and look to my right. I saw Ryan there, in a suit and a mask still on his face. I astonishingly didn't run or move or say anything; I just looked at him.

"Baby... Sweetheart," he stammered as he walked over toward me, "You look so beautiful in that dress."

Almost immediately tears started to pour from my eyes. It was all the pain I had inside and seeing him there. Seeing Ryan made my chest cave and grow tight; "Go away." I sobbed.

Ryan shook his head and grabbed my forearms, pushing me against the wall as I cried. I shut my eyes; his lips pressed against my forehead, his mask meshing with my skin, and he quickly tossed it. I sobbed, feeling his arms circle around me.

"I missed you so much," he said loudly over my crying. "I missed you, Nick."

I wiggled around, wishing he'd go away. I didn't want him then, I wanted to be alone. I hated his guts. "Get away!" I screamed thickly at him.

He let me go and I moved back, wiping my face. Ryan just stood there, his jaw slacked; I sniffed and wiped my eyes furiously, wanting the tears off. I smeared my mom's work on my face, not caring one bit; but I knew I couldn't return to the party in this state.

"Nikki, I only want to talk." He said desperately.

"I don't want to talk to you," I muttered, "I hate you."

He knew I didn't mean it. He didn't say a word, only looked at me. After a moment of silence and heavy breathing on my end, he opened his mouth; "I'm so sorry about everything, Nikki. I swear, I never meant for things to happen this way."

"Fuck you." I mumbled and began to walk toward the exit.

Ryan grabbed my arm, tightly, and pushed me against the wall again. He held me there, my eyes filled with tears, but glaring at me. I never expected things to end up this way.