Just you, Carina

“Listen… You’re only here for a short time, Carina. There isn’t much we can do about this until we know exactly what’s happening, okay? I’m so sorry… Please look at me…”

___________________________________________

Yesterday I was asked the most irritating and frequently asked question…

“So, as a writer, what do you do?”

If I had time I would tell you that I create new worlds.

Humans, and non-humans that interact intelligently or stupidly… because I want it to be that way.

Outlines that infuriate me, plots that bring me to tears and characters I’ve fallen in love with.

So many times this question has prodded my pale ears, yet I still have no idea how to honestly answer without freaking the asker out with my questionable god complex.

“I write about things that interest me.”

“Oh!! Okay, yeah, so cool. I have a friend who does the same thing actually… They launched a Kickstarter called “Write It Up”, you should check it out!”

Oh, Lorel, from this poorly lit coffeeshop. If I hadn’t spaced out after I heard your disingenuous “so cool” I might’ve had the energy to smile back and nod, instead of grabbing my chai latte and practically running out.

New York was famous for being surrounded by humans and never being seen by them. Incredibly enough, even with my intense fear of crowds and loud noises, I loved living here.

“Care, you’ll love it there. A perfect place to write and figure out which college you want to enroll in.” Craig, my well to do, bank owning father advised over coffee, trying to level with his unnatural daughter.

If you knew him, you trusted him. Craig really was an okay guy, but when it came to understanding his blunt, less than only child, his game was sending her away… 

So, with my intentions like a wet brick road before me, I set off to New York last summer.

“Carinaaaaaa, shouldn’t you be packing?” My deep chocolate eyes met emeralds. Kyris. His wide smile, tan freckles and too long legs were my deepest safety.

“I already did, dumbass.” Throwing his hands up as if shot, and narrowly missing a very rushed business woman, Kyris fell to the sidewalk.

“You’ve wounded me, my lady. I only meant to remind thee, and here I am, met with malice.”

Eyes glittering with mischief.

“Oh my gosh, get up.” My cheeks flushing with the eyes on us as I pulled him up quickly. “Everyone’s staring at you.”

“Just you, Carina.” Tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear, my deepest and oldest friend grinned.

___________________________________________

When people stared at me, it was a stark reminder that I was different.

Funny enough, my favorite pastime was people watching. Kyris always told me that I wasn’t allowed to hate being watched when that’s what I was. A watcher.

I couldn’t bring myself to stop. It was how I made sense of the world… how I grew to portray myself as normal, I guess. If I could morph into little Lydia from 1st grade, who sat still and drew quietly, maybe my dad would hug me after school like Lydia’s dad did her.

“You’re brooding again.” A soft remark that still caused my knee to hit the tray table before me.

“I’m not brooding, I’m escaping. And if I don’t I will jump off this plane, Kyris.” My anxiety never did lend me any favors on public transportation.

“Now that would be a grand adventure.” He noted, leaning his head back onto the frosted plane window.

He always thought everything was a fun new experience… As a teenager his need for new was how I landed my first grounding.

“You have never done anything like this before, Care. Before I let you speak, I want you to really process what just happened.”

I was too busy memorizing the pattern of the rug my father’s feet were planted on to process. What we had done was new, sure, but had it been bad? From what I had observed about teenagers, they thought they knew everything the world had to offer, topped off with stupid choices.

“I have processed, Craig. No one was hurt, we were simply in someone else’s river.” 

“We? Who is we, Care?” But I wasn’t going to tattle. Kyris never got in trouble, and while he came across as uncaring, it would break him. I had to protect him at all costs.

“Nevermind, Craig. I’m sorry. This will never happen again.” And it didn’t… Kyris felt bad for weeks for getting me in trouble because of his plan, but I didn’t care really. Rebellion, the one moment it happened, felt nice. 

Turbulence pulled me from my escape… Propelling my arms around my knees, I waited patiently for the panic attack. Long fingers eased between my stiff joints, untangling me from my fear.

“You’re alright, Carina. It’s speed bumps in the sky, remember?”

“I wish I could murder the person who told you that nicely packaged lie.” His laughter always brought me out of my death wishes. The only one who smiled at my severity… It helped. He helped.

“... Sorry, what…?” Blinking back my tears, I jerked my head to my other neighbor that I had forgotten existed.

“What?” I huffed, annoyed at the broken contact with Kyris.

“Oh, sorry. I was listening to my crime podcast just now and thought you said something to me about… hah, about murder. I’m way too into this stuff.” She apologetically responded, smiling to herself.

“I was talking to him.” Gesturing towards my window seated, gangly saviour.

“Who…?” Her body leaned forward slightly to look at Kyris, who gave her a small wave.

My eyebrow raised slightly at her widened eyes, darting back and forth between us. Her shocked face annoyed me.

“Something wrong?”

Staring directly at my friend, she shook her head slightly, sat back in her seat, and angled her body away from us.

“You have a horrible knack of people staring at you.” I smarted at Kyris.

“Just you, Carina.”

___________________________________________

Thanksgiving was my least favorite holiday.

Not only because the food was subpar, but mainly due to the disgusting expectations set on

family systems. Where was the invitation card that I could check “decline” on?

To each their own, I guess. Any joy I found in this holiday was only due to watching Kyris laugh and add into the dull conversation.

“Good evening, Uncle Rick.” Duty called… Be the perfect, not spacey Carina. Answer the door, try to remember everyone’s name, Carina. Don’t talk about writing, ask them about their stupid kids, Carina. Cry in the bathroom, throw a pumpkin pie across the room, Carina…. Carina…

“Carina, where are you?” Kyris leaned on the doorframe, cocking his head at me.

“I’m right here… Where are you?”

“I’m waiting for the evil prince to show up to the ball so that I can successfully pickpocket him, obtaining the vial of memories he has stolen from my fair maiden.”

“That… Is a brilliant story idea.” Breathing out evenly, and turning to my confidant, I let my shoulders relax.

“I thought so.” Smugly turning, he added “Come on, let’s go find a spot to sit. Aunt Margie can see herself in. Isn’t she the only one not here yet?”

“As always” I shrugged, following him into the ridiculously ornate dining hall.

This table had seen more of my life than I cared to recall. Memories consumed with fake, rose colored counselors or belittling psychiatrists sitting with their hands folded on the spot of the table where Uncle John’s placemat now was… I was merely a pawn in their greed inspired chessboard. They knew nothing was wrong with me, yet no matter where I tried to move in those black and white squares, they continued to play.

Not leaving, always asking and desperately trying to make me understand something…

“Carina, I understand that our weekly meeting is taxing on you, but in order for you to get me to leave you’re going to have to participate.”

Dr. Genler was my favorite. She was blunt, didn’t show much emotion and wasn’t a fan of me either. If enjoyment was the right word for weekly torture sessions, it was okay at best.

“You’ve all been saying versions of that for weeks. Participate. Try to remember. Who is he, Carina? Is there anything scary you want to tell me? Have you been biting yourself again?

It’d be a fun game if the questions made any sense to me, but they don’t. They mean nothing. This is all a waste of time.” Checkmate.

“Checkmate, Rick, well done.” My father’s rich, lighter than air voice stirred me from my irritating memories. There had to be a way out of this holiday.

“I call white’s, Craig.” Aunt Margie exclaimed as she tumbled through the tall wooden doors, starting a domino effect of clapping and congratulations for arriving… Why further encourage someone to be late?

And so began the typical, boring Thanksgiving. Stuffing was passed, cranberry sauce was barely touched and the weather was discussed. Every single year this was our repetitive game, except we left with no apparent winner. Always colder than last year, Uncle John’s hunting was excellent and yet again, Kyris made himself sick on the mashed potatoes.

“You’d think that after every single year of almost upchucking potatoes there would be some kind of lesson learned.”

“Oh, I remember every year. But, Carina, when you have something as exquisite as mashed potatoes staring you in the face, how full one can become is a dare.”

Everyone’s eyes shot up as they heard something rare occur.

Laughter echoing across this boring, immaculate throne room of lies… coming from none other than the princess herself.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard her-”

“Shut up, Rick. Carina! Dear, what did you find so funny?” Aunt Margie asked, bewildered.

“Mashed potatoes.” Was all I could get out before doubling over again, meeting eyes with Kyris as we both turned red from lack of air. He was the only one who could do that… Our joy was the reason I still had air to breathe… He was why I shrugged my shoulders in every counseling/torture session. Why I never told Craig whose idea it was to swim in the neighbors creek, naked…

He’s my reason.

Clearing his voice loudly, Craig stood awkwardly and invited us all into the ballroom to dance. I should write a list online about lame traditions in rich families. Might make some cash on that.

“Let’s dance.” 2 words that broke my heart every year… Not only because I hated dancing, but mainly due to how Kyris purely asked every November, and every year I said -

“We can’t, Kyris. It’s too risky…”

“Screw risky, Carina. Didn’t we used to dance here all the time? Why do the people around us make any difference?”

“They make all the difference…” I couldn’t hold out much longer. My deepest, truest, longest friend rarely made requests, but when he did they always got me in trouble. But I wanted this for him… maybe partially for me too.

“Please?” Damn puppy dog eyes. Stupid man. Stupid me. Stupid people. Stupid traditions.

“...Fine…” Signed the death wish.

The marble floor became waves as the arched ceiling above melted away into rich, navy colored silk, patterned with light. This is where I would stay, forever floating in his arms, cursing the world around me for trying to take me from moments like this.

Our eyes were starlight, darting to and from the sea below and the dotted jewels above…

“Let’s dance like this forever, okay? Promise me that this will be forever, Kyris?”

“Who is Kyris, Carina?” Earth slammed under our feet as gravity's weight pulled.

“No one, Craig.” Angrily I shoved my heart down again. Hating my father more and wishing I had never agreed to dance.

“I thought you were done with that…”

“HE IS NOT A “THAT” OR A THING, CRAIG.” My eyes flashed to my idiotic, misunderstanding flesh sack of a father.

“Who is she talki-”

“Shut up, Rick. Honey, who are you talking about? There’s no one else beside you…” I’d strangle Aunt Margie someday.

“Care, let’s get you packed up.” These words had always been the prelude to our death.

“Dad, it was just a joke! I’m better now. Nothing is wrong, I was only kidding.” Please take that. Please let it go, brush me off and send me back to New York like always.

“Wrong move, Carina. You only call him "Dad” when you want him to let you go again.” Kyris stated grimly, his fingers easing their way into mine again, trying to bring some calm before this massive storm.

“It’s all going to be okay, Care. This time we're going to figure out what's really wrong with you, honey.” Famous last words spoken before the needle impacted the skin behind my left ear... Dark webs flashed into my vision pulling me down into the waves below.

___________________________________________

“Listen… You’re only here for a short time, Care. There isn’t much we can do about this until we know exactly what’s happening, okay? I’m so sorry… Please look at me…”

You don’t deserve eye contact, Craig.

“Don’t be that way, Carina… He thinks this is what’s best. Come here.” Kyris opened his lanky arms to me, accepting who I was with every fiber of his being.

“Why are they all staring at us, Kyris?” The glass surrounding our fishbowl of a home was also shared with 5 new fish clad in white. Fish that judged, questioned and watched day in and out.

Sighing, my greatest love gently tipped my chin up so that our eyes could meet.

“Just you, Carina.”