Chill Night with Friends.

She’s waving her hand in front of me. Why is she doing that? I know she’s here. I know who she is; she’s the other half of my two drinking buddies. I look back down at the small patch of grass along the cracked sidewalk. Little tiny white flowers pop-up and bloom before immediately decaying back into the soil. The cycle continues.

“Hello, are you listening?” She says for the first time, or is it the fifth time?

“Of course I am.” I lied. She takes a puff from her cigarette, then exhales from the tiny box to her left where her mouth is located.

“Woah.” I say. “Can I have a drag?” she passes me the cigarette. We always share smokes, a whole one is way too much; though tonight I could go for the whole pack. I take the cigarette from her with my long pointy fingers. How cool I must look right now; smoking with these long cigarette holders. Cruela’s got nothing on me. I take quick rapid puffs, hardly inhaling any of them.

“I don’t know what his deal is, ya know?” She said from the mouth located on her face. Where did her picture-in-picture box go?

“Yeah” I agree. I pass the cigarette back and my fingers shrink down into my hand, their job here is done. “He had no reason to act like that. '' That's right, I know what's going on. I look back down to my favorite blooming flowers but they’re gone; so much so that it’s a patch of gravel now.

“I didn’t want this to happen, ya know?” she croaks. I feel bad for her, I always feel bad for everyone. I also feel indifferent towards everyone, at least tonight I do. Or maybe I’m like that all the time? It’s really hard to tell. I look back at my hand, my fingers have grown out a bit, they look like little seeds. Perhaps if I bury them into the gravel patch, life will return to it. I begin bending forwards, leaving the clouds around me.

“What are you doing?” Said asks. What am I doing? Guess I’ve snapped back again. I look back at my friend's face, a patch of skin has grown over her mouth. That reminds me, I’m super thirsty. I look at both my seed nubbed hands. No drink in either of them.

“I’m thirsty” I say. My friend narrows her eyes.

“You’re not listening. Let’s go back inside.” The picture-in-picture is back.

“Can I have another drag?”

“It’s gone dude.” She raises her claws to show me. Aw, man. We make our way back inside. The dining room is a mess. Why is the table on its side? Oh, that's right, their cousin got mad. Jagged rocks and black tar litter the space around the fallen furniture. One of these spills is bound to be my drink. I bend over and begin pressing my hands over the debris. My hands are rakes now it seems. So I begin brushing all the mess towards me, it makes my hands feel tingly.

“Yo stop you’re making a bigger mess.” say’s someone new. I turn to look and it's the other cousin. “Hey other cuz.” I say.

“What?” She remarks. She’s looking at me with a face of confusion, or perhaps concern. This is so confusing. We were having so much fun now everything is on the floor. I lean back from my crouched position and sit on the floor. I close my eyes but open them back up immediately; the phosphenes are too much right now.

“Where’d he go?” I ask. I remembered now.

“I don’t know. I think he ran out into the alley.” explains the other cousin. She gestures towards the back door. From where I’m sitting I can see that it’s a long tunnel that leads out. He’ll be lost in there for days. I chuckle about nothing, and only to myself so I don’t make any noise.

“And the knife?” Asks my friend. “Beats me.” replies the other cousin with a shrug.

“It’s right over there” I point to a glowing silver object off to the side of a toppled over chair. I take the time to look at my hand, it’s oozing with honey. Delicious. My friend walks over to the knife and picks it up.

“That crazy bastard.” She walks over to the kitchen sink and lets it drop.

“You should go look at yourself in the mirror.” Says the other cousin. Who, me?

“Who, me?” I press my hand to my chest. The sheer feeling on my chest proves that my fingers have grown back out. I go into the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. My long mane is so big and overgrown. “Wow. I’m a lion.” I continue to admire myself in the mirror. Sensing the new competition, in walks Fletcher, his dark hair looks slick and he’s looking me dead in the eye.

“Meow!” says Fletcher with a force so hard it knocks me back. He goes again and I’m knocked back even further. “meow!” he goes, each letter hitting me, tearing away at my long beautiful mane until it’s nothing but little wisps hanging for dear life. I’m me again. Now I’m not having fun. I draw the line at verbal attacks from Fletcher. I pop back out into the dining room.

“I’m tired, I need to lie down.” I pout. Both my friend and the other cousin look at me, skin overgrown where their mouths should be.

“Yeah, if you want you can sleep on my bed” say’s the other cousin. Her picture-in-picture is to the right of my friends. She points to a room next to the living room. I begin walking towards the threshold, arms extended out like it’s pitch dark. As I pass my friend she hands me a towel.

“For your head.” She gives me a weak smile. “Ok.” I take the towel and make my way into the room.