Leave me this moment

      Maia sat in her car listening to the playlist Violet had made for her before she was killed in a car accident two weeks ago. The playlist was an hour and forty-three minutes long. Maia had been listening to it like this for fifty-seven minutes. In her memories, it felt like three years, five months, and three or four weeks. She couldn’t remember. In her body, it felt like the clock was broken. She could feel each hair on her scalp, while her legs sat numb. A synth chorus burned through its crescendo as a ghost appeared in the corners of her windshield, birthed from some light inside the apartment she parked by. It danced up and down and beckoned her with its rhythm, Maia bobbing her head to help in its groove. She raised her hand to try and touch the spirit.

           Some shape moved in front of door and the ghost was gone. Maia’s eyes shifted to a pair of men in front of the apartment, staring at her with her hand still waving. She didn’t know how long she’d apparently been staring at the men’s crotches. They tried pretending they didn’t see all that as Maia exited her car and approached the apartment. Inside was the memorial party being thrown for Violet. Maia imagined herself anywhere else, but she just kept picturing herself in the car staring at the party. For a brief moment, she managed to imagine herself on a tandem bike by the river, but she struggled to move the bike while Violet’s body weighed down the back seat.

           “Hey, I’m sorry about what happened.” The body reared it’s vapid head to say.

           “You should be.” Maia told Violet’s body. One of the men in front of the apartment looked at her with confusion.

           “I didn’t mean to offend. I know this is a lot.” He kept a short distance from Maia and glanced back at the other guy for some assurance. The other guy just tightened his lips and nodded, having no idea of what to say and just waiting for another hour to pass so he could comfortably leave.

           Maia realized what she’d said. She didn’t want to apologize. A part of her still thought it was everyone’s fault. Every person was a part of the world that took her best friend. Maia felt the most at fault.

           “Yeah. Is there food here?” Maia walked past them without waiting for a response.

           Inside the building was an air of confusion of if people should be celebrating or mourning. Dance music played in muffled echoes through the rooms from some unseen speaker. The overcrowded living room filled with uncertain and fearful looks toward Maia, like she walked in with multiple gunshot wounds in her chest. Her blood started to stain the carpet, but a few spilled beer bottles had beaten her to it.

           As Maia scanned the crowds, everyone’s faces seemed to blur into one. She and Violet would make backstories for people when they first met them. When arriving at parties, the two would sometimes introduce each other as guests, making their own backstories and reveling in a momentary life that wasn’t the one they were stuck in. Now Maia had to make her own backstory and introduce herself, but all she could come up with was that morning when a fly fell off the ceiling into her bowl of uncooked spaghetti. Maia tried this introduction on a woman she let copy her ethics homework that one time, her name probably starting with a “B”.

           “This morning a fly died in my lap. It was cold and stringy.” Maia said to the B-lady’s head. B-lady gave a small smirk and gently touched Maia’s shoulder. Her mouth moving afterward suggested she was saying something, but Maia could only wonder if B-lady had washed her hands recently. Maia quickly nodded her head and pulled away, still feeling the slimy handprint on her shoulder trying to burrow its way into her skin.

           Maia burrowed through the various people into the kitchen. Maybe she wanted some water to ease her sore throat. Maybe she wanted some food to put in her mouth so she wouldn’t have to speak. Maybe she just wanted to keep moving forward so she didn’t suffocate. She found none of these things, and instead found her ex-boyfriend Ryan taking shots with her friend Annie out of small tea cups. The hand print on her shoulder felt like it was growing. Maia felt a vibration in her bones, moving from her feet up into her teeth until it shook the floor and rippled the assorted cups of mixed alcohol and saliva. She wanted a moment alone. She wanted to be held by someone. She wanted to tell them to leave. She wanted to see Ryan and Annie naked.

           “How goes it?” was all Maia could muster through vibrating teeth. The two swallowed the cheap vodka and turned to her. Annie’s eyes shed a quick tear and she spread her arms and floated towards Maia. A heavy hug tied down Maia’s restless innards for just a moment, and she set her hands around Annie’s ribs in response. The fungal handprint on Maia’s shoulder hissed as Annie pressed against it, but Annie didn’t seem to notice. Maia could feel Annie’s heartbeat through her chest, and it started to synch with her own. The tension in her body returned as she began to worry that her heart would spasm from it, causing Annie’s heart to do the same.

They were saved by Ryan appearing beside them with a light smile. Annie loosened her vice grip as Ryan raised a small tea cup full of vodka to Maia.

“Like when we used to have shit days at work, or when the other days were too much.” He said as he passed the shot off to her. Maia stared into the small liquid at the ghosts of light rocking back and forth on its surface. Ryan’s smile loosened. “But you don’t have to…I’m sorry about all this.” Maia downed the shot before he could finish. The cold liquid burned on its way down. She felt it crawl through her throat down to rest in her stomach, pushing aside any contents within her to make itself comfortable. Maia had almost hoped she’d throw up so she could have something to do by cleaning it up.

“Another?” Ryan asked expectantly. “I won’t judge.” It had been almost half a year since they split, and since then Ryan had grown a goatee an lost his glasses. Maia was surprised at how shriveled his eyes looked now. She was also surprised that the goatee didn’t look terrible. He had a small bit of food stuck in his teeth that she wanted to pick out with her hands. Instead, she shook her head no and set the cup on the counter, taking an unknown amount of time to stare at the fingerprints on the outside from whoever molded it. Annie watched Maia like she was a time bomb, thinking of how to distract her or at least get her to a blast distance that wouldn’t kill Annie.

“There’s more in the basement, also. Violet apparently kept notes and gifts to give to people, she just never got the chance…” Annie bit her tongue. The vodka in Maia’s stomach caught fire and wanted to burst out. If one more person tried to dance around her like she was a monster, she would hold them down and puke in their face. It seemed like the most logical thing to do. But Maia instead turned to Annie and smiled, her lips numb to where she might smile wide enough to rip her skin.

“I’d love that”

The basement was dimly lit by Christmas lights and old lamps, with colorful decorations awkwardly thrown around the room with pictures of Violet, some unframed and taped to the walls and furniture. It looked like something a serial killer would make. Violet would have loved it.

Maia walked down the stairs to the center of the basement, as Annie told her to wait while she got her gift. Violet already left her playlists, paintings, photos, hand-stitched denim jackets, and a small Garfield statue they carved out of wood for three months. Maia still wanted whatever this was, but also wished it was nothing. She could keep every bit of trash that Violet ever touched, one day shaping them into a life-sized replica of her, but it still wouldn’t be her. The replica would just scream and wonder why it exists and what keeps it alive, which would probably just be more unneeded stress on her. She stared at dozens of glow-in-the-dark stars glued to the basement ceiling and wondered if a homunculus would pay rent or be considered a pet.

Annie soon returned with a brown paper bag with “Maia” written on it in Violet’s handwriting. Several of the faceless strangers in the basement began heading upstairs.

“I’m not sure what’s in it, but she meant it for you. Obviously, sorry. Maybe it was for your birthday or an anniversary or…something.” Annie struggled to maintain composure and seem like she had any control over anything in life. For a second Maia thought that Annie would be the one to hold her down and vomit in her face. Annie wiped her eyes and found her voice again. “I know this sucks.” Annie gestured to the whole apartment. “I get that, and I’m sorry. But I just want to do whatever I can to help. Violet was my friend too, and so are you. We’re all confused and are all missing a part of our lives. It can feel pointless sometimes, but knowing that there are still people here for you can make all the difference. Sometimes that’s all we have.” Annie stepped forward and hugged Maia one last time. Maia did nothing in response. “They’re having a toast upstairs and saying some words about Violet. You’re more than welcome to join, if it might help.” Annie let go and walked upstairs, leaving Maia alone in the basement like she was always meant to be.

Words meant nothing in Maia’s head as TV static filled her every neuron. Instinctively, she opened the dingy bag. Inside was a small handwritten note and a pair of large, cloudy glasses. The note smelled of cigarettes, the kind that are thick and are drawn extra evil in the cartoons. The kind that finally brought a tear to Maia’s eye.

“The glasses you made fun of me for when I was a kid. Try them on and look at something, anything. I want you to have the same moments I had. We’ve had so many already, I can’t imagine any of them without you.”

The note repeated in her mind, swept up in hurricane winds that shook her lifeless body around the room. Tears began to fall from Maia’s blank face onto the old glasses as they rose to meet her dissolving eyes. Everything lost focus. Her balance became shreds. The winds in her mind ripped through her veins and skin and swept across the apartment. She fell backwards into them, the smoldering vodka roaming freely through her body as she faced upward. Then she saw the lights.

The stars on the ceiling glowed feverishly, dancing erratically with infinite explosive energy. They danced with the fires of creation because they could do nothing less. The lights shifted in spectrums across all visions, striking beads and disco balls thrown around in the torrential winds to reveal the cosmos itself. Maia reached out a hand and ascended into them, grasping at plastics and broken glass that held the mundane fabric of the universe.

And she kept going. Above the apartment. Above the town. Above anyone who thought they knew what was happening and thought they could care. The ghosts of light sprinted and danced around her head to tell her the secrets of life that Violet hoped she could share with her. Maia spun a ballet through their strands and looked down upon the world.

An orb of everything. Oceans of infinite wisdom encapsulated in a single blue hue. Continents teaming with verdant green and the shimmering city lights of collective human existence. Clouds that birthed the many dreams of children and carried the weathers of the planet’s emotional soul. They all came to Maia at once through the murky vision of Violet’s childhood glasses. This moment was hers and Violet’s alone, to last an eternity in an instant.

And in that instant, Maia felt only disappointment.

Disappointment at the world for its carnivorous appetite. At the stars for dancing so far away from the pain and chaos of life. At the centuries of lights and people building on the bodies of those who built before them, paying no mind other than to look to those around them to fill the gaps left behind. At Violet for dying so soon.

Maia’s faced contorted. her skin bubbled and her vocal chords spun until they melted. Every day will lead to the same end, so she wondered if Violet had the right idea. And with this, she reared to the stars and spewed the flaming remnants of herself, a frothing napalm of bile, memories, and sensations to make even the most infinitely small scar on the universe. Maia would leave behind more than just junk to remember her by.

The flames sizzled out in the depths of space, blasting Maia back through the atmosphere. She spun through the air, burning through the clouds and dreams of children. She stared furiously at the planet that gave and took so carelessly. She shouted at the selfish biology that made her feel so selfish, her voice completely drowned out by the roaring wind as she crashed back to the apartment. To the people who wanted to help and left her in the basement alone. To the concrete floor that smacked her nose.

Maia sprawled on the floor, her body sizzling on the cold cement as molten blood started to pour from her nostril. Her face returned to a blank state as it re-solidified. Through the burning and the impact, all she felt was the sputter of air she struggled to breathe and the tears flowing from her eyes onto the foggy glasses.

“This isn’t fair.” Maia said for the first time since it happened. And it wasn’t. She raised herself from the floor and struggled to breathe, her body convulsing as she held back sobs. Her legs fumbled and rebelled under the planet’s gravity, so she had to pull herself up the stairs.

In the living room, Maia found dozens of people in a circle sharing drinks and laughing to some story Ryan was telling. She still had the glasses on and couldn’t see him, but could tell Ryan’s weak public speaking voice anywhere. It didn’t matter. Maia just needed to get outside. To get air. To leave. She felt several hands brush try to touch her, spreading who knows or cares what all over her. It didn’t matter.

The door burst open as Maia ran out past her car and into the parking lot. Everything was a blur. All the ghosts had fled and the cold night air constricted her broken, burned body. Each step grew heavier as the blood felt frozen on her upper lip.

Earth finally caught up to her as gravity tethered her legs. She fell to rest on a tiny overpass over a creek that smelled like sewage from a menagerie of species. All the while she was still disappointed and confused. All those moments shared lead to her sitting by a creek of garbage on a cold night with stupid, giant glasses and a bloody nose, all alone. Is this the gift she was meant to have? What is this terrible moment supposed to serve in the grand spinning of the planet that tethers her here?

She wiped blood from her nose and removed the glasses to wipe tears from her eyes. It was then that she looked up at the sky. Once her eyes adjusted from the glasses, everything became so clear.

There were stars, dim, but with such noble presence. There were clouds, dark, but with colors and gestures not seen under the sun. There were lights, from too many sources to count all with lives and pain of their own. All like she’d never seen them before. It felt so new, despite always being there. It all sat motionless above, watching her with the same awe that she watched it with. Through the cold night air, Maia’s face warmed. Her eyes found their color. Her mouth formed so naturally into a light smile. Tears returned to her as she began to lightly sob.

“Thank you.” She said, tightly gripping the glasses in her blood-specked hand.