Bia

Mom came home quite late that night, her ‘company’ being a new boyfriend of hers. I didn’t want to get in their way so I sat in the wicker chair on our front porch while they went upstairs to Mom’s bedroom.

Swinging my feet gently, I looked across the street at Calyx Baker’s house. The majority of that building was glass and for most of the day all I could see was my own reflection, the wavering image of my own decrepit house with its peeling paint and crumbling walls.

“Calyx Baker,” I muttered, “the only girl in the whole wide world who’s allowed to be perfect. The only girl without any flaws.”

This wasn’t true though. The few moments when the sun hid behind a cloud and I could see in the glass windows, I noticed Calyx was either sitting at the large dining room table by herself or sitting on the couch with the TV off and a notebook in her lap.

She was lonely. Just like me.

Had this been a perfect world, Calyx and I would be best friends, overcoming her mother’s death and my father’s abandonment of his family. We would spend all our time together in her backyard swimming pool, our laughter filling the awkward silences.

But this wasn’t a perfect world. Her mother was dead. My father was still gone. And neither of us had the time or willpower to come out of our shells.

I reached into my pocket until my fingers brushed against the cool metal of my razor blade. Pulling it out, I examined the sharp edge, taking notice of the little nick.

I twisted my arm until I saw a patch of pale white skin that wasn’t completely overridden with scars and chose that small area to make my mark.

A few beads of blood popped up before slowly filling the line and dripping down my elbow. I rubbed my fingers together and sculpted a small shape out of the blood.

A mouse nestled into my hand then climbed up onto my shoulder, the blood now completely gone.

“Hello, sweetie,” I crooned.

I plucked the grey mouse off my shoulder then placed it in my palm. It stared up at me with dark, empty eyes. The soulless creature wouldn’t make it in the real world, but in my world he’d do just fine.

I stroked the mouse gently with two fingers as I watched Calyx’s dad, Noah Baker, walk out of the house to grab the mail.

“Hey Bia,” he said with a wave.
I cleared my throat. “Hi Mr. Baker.”

He let out a soft chuckle.
“How many times have I told you? Call me Noah.” He opened the mailbox and pulled out a couple envelopes.

“Anything good?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Just bills.” After a pause, he spoke again. “How’s your mom?”
“She’s… good. Um, she’s upstairs with a friend.” I clutched the mouse in my hands, trying not to show any emotions.

“Good for her,” Noah grinned. “Tell her I said hi, okay?”
I nodded. “I will.”

Noah went back inside his house with his bills and I stared down at the mouse.

“Calyx doesn’t know how good she has it,” I told the furry thing. “She doesn’t get that her life is everything people aspire for and she’s wasting it filling her time with the newspaper and sports teams. She has a dad, a great dad, and she sits at home doing her homework.”

The mouse did nothing but clean its tail and I realized I’d been talking to a rodent. With a flick of my fingers, the mouse disappeared into nothingness and I was, once again, alone.