Blame

After a long night, some memories return

Sunlight poured through the cheap sheets Rave had taped to the windows in lieu of curtains. Still in between sleep and awake, Rave flitted her fingertips over the fresh lines in her side, tracing the image that had been carved into her skin. She curled into the side of her bed that was next to the wall, wanting to feel the cold plaster on her overheating body and trying to get out of the line of sunlight. She was successfully drifting back to sleep when the door flew open, slamming into the ratty tapestry falling off the wall.

 

In two large bounds, Celine was on top of Rave, bouncing on the threadbare mattress that Rave used as a proper bed.

“Get up s**t!” Celine cawed, mussing up Rave’s already unkempt dark hair.

“Go away.” Rave moaned, shrinking away from the unwanted contact with Celine’s body.

“Rave, it’s already 4 in the afternoon. You promised you would come with me to this show. It starts at 6 but you know it will take you at least an hour to get ready and then another hour to get into the city.” Celine reluctantly stood up to avoid getting smacked by Rave’s legs.

“Fine, just get out!” Rave raised her chest and slunk into an upright sitting position. “I’ll start getting ready but I swear if this turns into another sobfest I’m leaving.”

Celine pouted and flounced out. “Don’t wear the brocade romper, I’m wearing it!” She called over her shoulder.

 

Rave rubbed her temples and surveyed the wreckage of her bedroom. She couldn’t remember coming home last night, but the evidence of her exploits were littered on the scratched hardwood floor. A dirty red lace thong, a broken flask, condom wrappers, and the entire contents of her purse were scattered about like fallen leaves. Her brow furrowed. Condom wrappers.

She leaned her head against her dresser mirror. Through the sliced images in her brain she struggled to recall what had happened last night. She let her fingers travel down her body, and brought them back up instantly on the discovery of pain. Lots of pain. She saw the bruises blossoming above her pelvis, upper thighs and around her wrists. Rave felt the tears come. There was nothing she could use to rationalize her pain. The only thought ringing through her mind was the unknown. The impossibility of ever knowing. No faces or names. No one to hit, no one to blame. Just fuzzy, blank, nothing.

 

Celine knocked on the door. “Hey can I borrow your brown leather clutch?”

Rave raised her head. “What? Yeah sure whatever.”

Celine grabbed it off the hook of Rave’s closet and threw it over her shoulder. She walked to the dresser mirror and dabbed her lipstick, staring at her perfectly made up face. “We have to go in 20 minutes, okay? I’m going to go mix us some drinks to go. No flask, thermos this time. It won’t break.”

Rave wasn’t listening. “Did someone come home with me last night?”

Celine chuckled. “Oh yeah, you guys had fun. Sounded like a party.” She slammed the door shut behind her.