Salt

Days passed since Ciara's funeral, and I didn't see much of my friends. We hung out once at Bubba's, but the silence between us was so constricting we all high-tailed it out of there. I think we were all still pretty shaken up.

I saw Ambrose here and there, passing by the café on his way to the library in the mornings. He looked the same, except now I didn't hold it against him for keeping his head low.

I'd witnessed a side of him I wasn't used to. It shined so brightly in my eyes that I felt guilty for wishing he'd be like it more often. While he was definitely the most sensitive male of our group, he was still a guy, and it meant I should treasure his ability to open up to me.

And I did, obviously. I just wanted to know if he was feeling any better. It was only normal to worry about your friends, right?

Once in the bathroom, I turned on the shower, the rising steam embracing me in its sweltering protection. My naked body ached to be under the crystal clear drops, to be rid of all the dirt that was caked on me.

If it washed away the dirt, then surely the ice would melt too? It was numbing me to the point that it was frightening, I think.

Stepping in, I sunk under its spell. It washed all over me, the salt and grime of another day scrubbed to hell. I used the soap everywhere, but no matter how much I coated and then re-coated, the black remained. Painted on my flesh so harshly it had seeped through.

It was dark, and painful, and I rubbed and rubbed until the spot was shining. It was its own black hole; prepared to suck in the world as I knew it.

Peering through my eyelashes, I got so lost in the steam that everything else was blurry and out of reach. The only thing I knew was that I still clung onto the soap.

I'll never let go, my mind echoed. Some things we were never made to lose. Love, reason, logic. How could I possibly push them so far away?

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

It was stupid, and human, and I hated it.

My knees buckled under me, giving into the ever-present pressure. I hit the tiles, bones tingling in a knowing sensation I voluntarily entertained, my arms wrapping around my doused form, hoping in the wild thought that I could have something else to grab.

I didn't know if time ticked by, or if anyone knocked the door, I cancelled them all out. I wasn't here, I longed to sink into the ground, where I belonged.



I didn't remember when I last ate. Was it before the funeral or just after? Either way, I'd forgotten all about it and would've likely continued to do so, if it weren't for Zoey knocking my door reprimanding me for not leaving my room.

Time was a funny thing, there was so much of it, yet so little. We had all the time in the world to discover places, people, love, loss – but each of those could swiftly be taken from us. No warning, no joke, in a matter of sheer moments they could be gone.

Did Ciara think she had time on her side? She was only fifteen, it wouldn't have been wrong to think she had another seventy years in front of her. Someone pulled the carpet beneath her though, and she fell and drowned to her death.

And nobody could see her anymore. She was buried under the ground, with nothing to keep her company except the linen in her box and the worms that would one day burrow to lie by her side.

She could be eating them right now and she wouldn't even know...

The shiver rippling over my skin, I crossed to the window, as I watched the rain beat down on the cemented earth. If only it could wash over this whole town, rid us of all our sins, and cast out all evil. With the right intentions, I could still believe, couldn't I?

Despite the mirror in me, and my face finding shelter in my hands, I think I did. I wanted to.