Unlikely Timing

I can't really describe it to be honest. I'm not done with it. But I'd like to hear some feedback.

I guess I hold onto things too long. That’s one of the millions of things you could say about me. Besides the fact that I suffer from severe anxiety and I’m unsure of just about everything around me. I hate being alone, but in a crowd"I feel restless and different.  All in all, one could say I’m pretty messed up. To start, I’d like to say that I am in no way responsible for the events that spiraled out of control over the past three months. I’d like to say that"but I’d be wrong. Also, I’ve heard my mother say that people in hell would like to say that they deserved ice water…but of course we know they don’t.

I’ve always been a bit different from everyone else. I’ve always heard the hipster kids say that. But I really do mean it. Not even in a good way. I’m a planner. Severely OCD. Never leaves the house without her medicines kind of girl. I have a long list of medicines for someone at the tender age of twenty. Depakote"a mood stabilizer. Seroquel"a sleep aide/anti-psychotic. Nexium"acid reflux. Lastly, my favorite…Ativan. Ativan is my drug of all drugs. Pop one, calm down. Pop five, fall down.

 I’ve been hospitalized twice. Well, three times. The first time was totally voluntary. The second and third"not so much. Besides the fact that hospital food is inedible s**t, it’s a pretty swanky joint. A nice bed to sleep in, a shower of my own, and a “group room” full of lovely crayons and televisions set to channels that any psycho would love. My family has been put through the ringer with me. I’m sure that if I were my mother"I’d wish I never birthed this one. She says my birth was easy. Everything else from that point on has been hard.

I binge drink when I can. I smoke like a chimney. I’m always either too thin or too fat. My hair never does what I want it to. No clothes fit me like they should fit a woman. I’m a complainer, too. A whiner. I love to let everyone know how s****y everything is with me all the time. During those conversations, I pray as hard as I can in my head that something I say will set off a spark in someone to help me. I feel helpless. Have you ever had a lucid dream? I have them all the time. I’m in what seems to be my room but it’s pitch black and all I hear are voices. They’re all different, but they’re all mine. I can never seem to answer myself. I talk much too fast and way too quietly to actually hear what I’m trying to say. When I first decided to write all this down, I was hesitant to say the least. The feeling of thoughts whirling and milling around in your head is one thing. On paper, this looks a hell of a lot different.  I used to question my sanity all day every day. I’d give myself an “A” for effort, but I could never seem to get it right. Everything I did brought me to this.

                The day I met him was the most miserable day I can seem to think of. I’m a pessimist by nature, so when his little red car drove up the street and made the loudest most obnoxious noises one could imagine, I was less than impressed. I strolled to the end of my driveway and plopped myself down by the mailbox. Apparently I wasn’t paying much attention, because the noise had stopped and I looked up from my place on the concrete to see a normal guy looming over me. Who in the hell did he think he was? I stood up and stumbled backwards a bit. When I regained my composure all I could do was study his face. He was not attractive by magazine standard. Hell, he wasn’t even attractive by regular girl standard. But he was there and at that moment, it was all that mattered. He had dark eyes. Not brown, just dark. Dark hair that fell every which way across his head. But the most striking thing of all was his stature. He was tall. Very tall. Mind you, I’m only about five feet tall myself. So anything above that is gigantic. It seemed like we had been standing and staring for a while, but again I was wrong. The time always goes slower in my head than it does in reality. He walked right passed me and up to my front door where my mother was standing with a package. Apparently, it had been delivered to our house by mistake. This creepy guy just took the package and left. I stood there, watching him walk about five houses down and then I saw the moving van. The rest of his family looked normal. So, what was up with this guy? I digress because right now"he isn’t important.

What do you think drives lust? Pure and restless perversion. Tracing her lips with the tip of my fingers as she sleeps nestled up close next to my body. Our legs entangled. Intertwined, like the strands of silk in a black widows web. I have an almost deadly need for her. I close my eyes and fight back sleep. Although she’s physically here, I picture her emerging from the darkness of the curtains of black that are my eyelids.  It’s painfully difficult not to open them and glance at her. The moon is letting in a little trickle of light. It’s just enough to reflect off of her plump yet defined pink cheeks. We’ve been through this before; many times. I know that in the morning"she’ll shower alone. Unlike tonight, when we entered and exited together. Soaking wet and smiling.  She’ll get out and I’ll peek my eyes open just enough to see her standing there naked examining her face in the mirror. But what she doesn’t realize is that you can’t enhance perfection. I love the way the droplets of water slide down her body. She’ll walk over to my side of the bed, give me a kiss on the cheek and whisper goodbye. Then she’ll walk to the door, turn around and half smile at me. As soon as I hear the door creak shut I feel a piece of myself get lost. I don’t know where it goes. Maybe a black hole or something. But it’s gone.  Outside the sanctity of this room, this five floor walk up, this building…she’s no longer mine. She’s unconditionally his.

                He has her all to himself. He’s the one who gets to spend his life with this beautiful creature. They’ll probably move out of the city once she finishes her masters. I don’t know why I write about her. Although we’ve never truly discussed it, there isn’t supposed to be any proof of this us. The us in the middle of the sidewalk stumbling and drunk are the ones they’re supposed to see. The ones who laugh as they fall up the stairs when they can’t get their wits about them. The ones who always accompany each other to the bathroom. The best friends. That’s the only us they’ll ever know. He could never find out.

Since I’ve never named names in this non-existent book of ramblings, I shouldn’t start now. But since it doesn’t even exist, there’s no harm in it, right? So here goes nothing. Literally. My name is Coralee Adams. Everyone calls me Cora except her. She calls me Leelee or simply Lee. Not that anyone would be impressed by me, but I’ll give you a brief description of myself anyway. I’m average"as you probably already guessed. Ha. Brown eyes, almost black. Dark brown wavy hair that ends at my shoulders. My facial features aren’t even worth mentioning. They blend in like the tide does with the sand at the ocean. They just flow and no one ever really pays attention to it. I’m an office assistant at an ever-growing law firm named Estreck Law. My boss is an a*****e and I’m almost positive that I’m the first of his many secretaries that he hasn’t fucked the hell out of. Again, literally.

 Not that a pay raise would hurt me in the slightest, but he’s revolting to say the least. I’m quiet, introverted, and a tad bit depressing. Except when I’m with her. You’ve probably assumed by now that I’m a lesbian. I am not. I am a completely heterosexual female.  I’ve had a few serious boyfriends. Some regrettably casual hook-ups.  I could never keep anyone for too long. As I mentioned earlier, I’ve got problems. Problems that to most guys"trump the Eifel tower.

I’m going to pour my thoughts out right now. Her name is Lily. I call her Lil. So does he. She’s almost too beautiful. Her hair is a strawberry blonde color that flows down her back almost touching her perfectly sculpted backside. Her eyes are a piercing green with flecks of yellow. Every bone in her face is defined, as if they were sculpted by an artist. Her cheeks"the ones I mentioned before"are pink almost all the time. Her smile is bright enough to make the world burn. All too badly I want to go into detail about her body, but I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. Ha, Invisible, non-existent book. Remember? Her breasts are perfectly round. They’re more than a handful.

 Her stomach is flat and she’s got this indescribable birth mark on her upper thigh. I always laugh when I tell her it looks like a strawberry colored milky way. Every part of her is gorgeous. God created this woman, that’s for sure. She’s a social butterfly. Everybody loves her. She has never met a person she couldn’t win over. Her heart bleeds for others and leaps for joy when something good happens. She has a habit of jumping up and down erratically when something especially exciting happens. She’s getting her master’s degree in liberal arts. She has a boyfriend. His name is Alex. I have nothing more to say about him.

Lil and I have known each other since the fourth grade. I was outside on the playground after lunch minding my own business when an extremely large fifth grade girl came up to me. At first she was making fun of my ‘mop head’ and ragged clothes. Then after I yelled at her to stop, she started pushing me until eventually I was knocked to the ground. That’s the first time I saw Lil. I remember so vividly. Her strawberry blonde hair was shorter and her curls were perfect little ringlets. She wore a fashionably made pink sundress and sandals. She was smaller than I was at the time. But she jumped right on that fifth grade girl and started pounding on her. Eventually the fifth grader ran away crying and left Lil there straightening her dress and rubbing dirt off her knees. She walked over to me and the first thing I noticed was that she had a tiny cut on her head right above her eyebrow and it was bleeding.

She held out her hand to me and helped me up. “I’m Lil.” She said, as she half-smiled. I could barely remember my own name so I stammered out, “Lil, you’re bleeding.” I tore off a little bit from the bottom of my t-shirt and held it up to the cut on her head. She winced and then whispered “thanks.” Every day from then on out Lil and I spent all of our time together. When I told her my name, she disregarded it completely and to her, I was Lee from then on out. We stayed friends until the very end of our elementary school years. We were young. Mud pies and make-overs. All the fun stuff.

No matter what issues I was going through, Lil was always right there. She never judged me. She came to the hospital visits. The psychiatrist appointments. She knew every medication I was ever on. She was my crutch and I guess to some degree, I was hers. She knows everything about me and none of it scares her. This gives me one more reason to love her. She scares the hell out of me. Every little thing she does could push her closer to me or pull her further away. Sorry for that tid-bit"but I had to interject before continuing.

Middle school flew by but we still stayed attached at the hip. We had most of the same classes and Lil started getting a lot of attention from boys. For whatever reason, I was always there to dry her tears when her first loves broke her heart. I loved Lil. I’ve loved her since the moment we met and to this very day I still do. High school brought on a whole new set of rules. Clothing rules, boyfriend rules, etc. The first memory I can recall from high school was my first kiss. His name was Tony McDaniel and it was terrible. I spat on the sidewalk right after. We stayed boyfriend and girlfriend for almost a year. We kissed a lot more and it got better. We walked the halls holding hands. Lil was in and out of relationships and as always, I was there to pick up the pieces or crack a few faces for her.

When Tony and I broke up, I was in shambles. Lil stayed over at my house every day for almost a week. Every night she curled up next to me and rubbed my head until I fell asleep. That Friday she had yet another date. I remembered asking her if she was coming back to spend the night and she responded with that smile. I watched her undress and redress about six times. Each time watching more closely at the curves in her body. Finally, she was ready and he was outside blowing the horn. She giggled and said “Don’t wait up and wish me luck, Lee!” She walked out of the room too fast for me to actually tell her good luck so I just whispered it under my clenched teeth.

I ate dinner with my parents. Lasagna, I think. I wasn’t really paying attention to anything. My parents never really talked to me or cared what I did or how I was. My parents rarely even talked to each other. They went about their days as neither of them existed to one another. I slumped my way up the stairs to my room. Lil and I shared pajamas all the time, but that was it. I would never wear anything in her daily wardrobe and I’m sure she’d never wear anything of mine. I slipped on one of her night-gown type things. It was less of a nightgown because the fabric barely covered anything. I brushed my teeth and crawled into my side of the bed. I laid there with my eyes closed for what seemed like an eternity. I thought about Lil. I was mostly wondering what she was doing. What was this guys idea of a date? I must have fallen off into dreamland because the next thing I knew, I awoke to a tapping at my window. Lil was insane. She’d crawled up the side of the vines next to my window and wanted me to let her in. I did, and she fell on top of me.

She was drunk. I had never seen her this way. I helped her put her night-gown thing on.  She basically fell onto her side of my bed. She started rambling about the guy. Todd was his name I think. Anyway, she kept on and on about how good of a kisser he was but how he was a little too handsy with her. He had actually tried something on her! My face was turning red out of anger and Lil noticed. She said, “What’s wrong Leelee? Your parents fight or something?” I shook my head no and that’s when it happened. She pulled me in close to her and she pressed her lips lightly against mine. I felt a tear roll down her cheek and it landed in between our lips. The salty taste mixed with some sort of vodka was strange. She kept going. Kissing me harder and more vigorously. I didn’t want to stop and apparently neither did she. 

Now, to be honest…this was the first time I’d actually had any type of vagina to anything contact. So, bear with me through the details. Lil slid her hand up my thigh and began rubbing against my panties with her pointer finger. Then she started using her whole hand, rubbing harder and harder. She laughed a little and whispered into my ear, “You’re wet Lee. Really wet.” The heat of her breath against my ear sent me into some sort of zone.  I didn’t know this person. The one whose hand was slowly sliding into my panties. This must be some sort of dream.  Since Lil was obviously occupied, I slid my hand up by my neck and pinched myself. Nope. Not a dream. This was real. And my best friend was pushing her fingers into me. Oddly and horrifyingly enough...I liked it. No, I loved it.

Her actions led to me mimicking everything she was doing and before I knew it, she had made her way down to the edge of the bed and slid my panties off. Her mouth was on my vagina. Licking and sucking on my clitoris. She ran her fingers up my thigh and pushed them into me again. A few moments later, I orgasmed. Yes, my first orgasm came from my best friend. My female best friend.  She crawled back up to the pillows and laid her head next to mine. We kissed a few more times and she wrapped her arm around me and drifted off to sleep. I was wide awake for the rest of the night. Thoughts ramming their way into my brain. These wicked, lustful thoughts about Lil. They worked their way around my head like a snake wrapping its body around its prey. 

After finally making my way to sleep, I awoke with Lil pressed against my back. Her leg and arm draped over my body. I didn’t know what to say. I had no words for what happened. She yawned, blinked a couple of times and said, “Good morning sunshine.” There was that half-smile again. The whole day I waited for her to mention last night. I wanted to interrupt her while she was eating her Doritos on the couch watching Days of Our Lives re-runs. But I didn’t. The whole day I let her drift her way through my house. It was just another normal day. Mostly, I thought she was probably so drunk that she didn’t remember anything. Part of me hoped her memory of last night was wiped. I prayed that she’d remembered leaving and bits and pieces of her date. But that’s it. On the other hand, I wanted her to pull me into my room and strike up a conversation about what happened between us. I wanted to know if she felt anything about it. Was she concerned about our friendship? Was she embarrassed? What was going through her head? The rest of the day flew by and Lil went home. I didn’t see her for the rest of the weekend. Monday, I decided I’d write her a note and slip it into her locker. That’s exactly what my passive-aggressive a*s would do. She knew it.

That Monday morning crept up on me quite quickly. I had spent most of that Saturday night and all day Sunday putting my homework on the way-back burner. I needed to write this note. It had to be worded right, and it had to be straight to the point. The only thing that kept me from being straight-forward was the fact that she may not remember what happened. But even so, she should know what she did on her drunken Friday night. She did me. I ended up with this:

Lil,

Friday night was ridiculous. I’m not sure if you remember what happened at all, but if you don’t then you’re in for a surprise. You and I…well, had sex. I guess that’s what you’d call it? We need to talk about it because it’s got me a bit fucked up in the head right now. Come to my house after school.

                                      -Lee.

I put the note in her locker and the day seemed to go at a snail’s pace. I saw Lil a few times during the day and each time I’d wondered if she’d seen the note yet. Maybe she was thinking about it and had no idea what to say. Worse, maybe she wouldn’t come over to talk. Maybe our friendship was over. Nevertheless, I walked home and Lil was already there. She was sitting on the bottom step of my porch twirling her hair and looking at my mother’s dying flowerbed. I said “Hey Lil.” She seemed startled and sort of tripped when she stood up. She replied with a quick “Hi.” We walked inside and instinctively went straight up to my room. This was it. I was about to have a conversation that could either be the end of my best friendship, or just another chat with Lil. Both seemed too other-worldly.

 

Author's Note

I know it's a bit jumbled right now. But what do you see the main points of the story line coming to be? Also, what would you like to hear more about? Which character should I delve deeper into?

Reviews

[Icelanna]

Let me start off by saying I love first person narrative, my prologue of Madeline is, secondly my main character also has a lot of problems like this one does which is stated at the beginning. However, saying you have these problems and actually witnessing them is different, saying "I have OCD" is much different that showing the character being obsessive over something minuscule, I would try to show it rather than just tell us the problems. The realism of it happening is much more convincing as a reader. To be honest I read up the the guy who she was staring at and lost it. Everything seemed to be simple sentences and not much detail or emotion, considering it is a first person narrative, even more with an emotional wreck for the main character. I put a lot of effort into making sure my Madeline has emotion, if you like you can check out my prologue on my page and read my blog as I go through it.
Although it is a good length, suitable for a chapter. Keep going!
Love to you x