Another journal

You can find all the sections here.

Emily woke to strong autumn light pouring in the window. The lamp had been turned off and the knife was back in its sheath on the dresser. She struggled out of the tangle of covers and padded to the kitchen. There was a note on the counter from her aunt, weighed down by the butter dish. It was short; it let her know that she’d been asleep for over a day, the rest of the court knew she was back, there was a meeting that evening and Janice was at work and would be back after five.

Looking at the clock, Emily saw that it was just past three. She’d slept nearly thirty-six hours. her mouth tasted awful and she brushed her teeth in the shower, soaking in the pounding hot water. Her period started as soon as she’d changed into fresh clothes. It was heavier than usual, as though her body was trying to underline her mortality and the mundaneness of the world.

In clothes that felt like a stranger’s, she went out to the porch. The hammock was put away for the season and fallen leaves had been tracked up onto the boards. Emily shivered and went back inside for a sweater. She wondered what month it was.

Wandering the court felt like a dream. Everyone seemed to be at work, though Emily thought she saw a curtain twitch in at least one trailer’s window. She kicked through leaves to the line of oaks, looking up into their half-bare branches. The pavement next to her was simultaneously familiar and foreign. Emily leaned against a trunk to watch cars speed past. Cars! The road had been widened, a brightly marked bike lane mirroring parking across the street. While she stood there, at least a half dozen people bicycled past. Emily couldn’t remember seeing that many adults biking in a week, let alone a quarter of an hour. She thought of her bike with a shake of her head, Janice had probably sold it years ago.

Knots of teenagers wandered past, laughing and shoving each other on their way home from school. Emily felt like she was seeing double. how many months ago had she walked home from the high school down the road? Three or four to her and dozens and dozens more as far as the world was concerned.

Children’s laughter caught her ear and Emily pushed away from the tree, startled. That’s why the court felt so empty. There had always been kids too young for daycare or preschool playing in the grass, their cries and laughter spilling from windows. How old would they be now? The youngest had been nearly two, so now they’d be just starting seventh grade. They’d probably lost all the baby teeth that had finally come in to gape crookedly the last time Emily had seen them. She reeled back against the tree as she realised the oldest would be only a year younger than her now. They’d be starting their last year of high school.

“Hey lady, you okay?”

Emily steadied herself and met the concerned eyes of somebody valiantly attempting to grow their first moustache. She smiled the best she could. “Yeah, I should probably eat something, I guess.” She wondered if she was going to have to pretend to walk on, as though she didn’t live in the court. The boy cupped a lit cigarette with his hand, trying to conceal it. He drew his thick eyebrows together.

“You look familiar—were you a senior last year?”

“Yup.” Emily realised she didn’t have to lie. She tried a smile again. For her, it had been just last year.

The boy started to walk on, but only a few steps past her he turned slowly, his sneakers crunching leaves. “Emily?”

Her hands shook and she folded her arms tight to her chest, hiding them. She didn’t answer. The children’s faces flashed past and she tried to match them up to the person standing in front of her. The hair, bushy and dark, that stood up in all directions, hands and shoulders too big for his frame—it was the Terrin’s oldest, Julian. He’d be about fifteen. He looked caught at a stage between his father and the kindergartener she’d known. Her mouth was dry.

He took a step towards her and Emily flinched back.

“Is it—” his voice broke and he frowned, tried again. “It’s you. Shit. I was so right.” He ran the hand holding a cigarette through his hair, almost setting it alight. “It’s fucking weird, I know, but it’s okay. Does Miss Anderson know you’re back?”

Emily nodded. “I got back day before yesterday, but I’ve been asleep.” How much did he know? What did he think he knew?

Julian held out his hand, beckoning. “I was going to meet the other guys at the coffee shop. You totally need to come with. Nobody would know who you are.” His face brightened. “I’ll buy you a cup of coffee!”

Feeling like she was falling, Emily walked to him.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.