Purgatory

A memory of a girl’s scream echoed through my ears. My alarm brayed at me incessantly, and even pulling the pillow over my ears didn’t stop the ringing from working its way into the growing fissure in my brain. The only thing worse than the sound was the burning light that assaulted me when I opened my eyes to hit the snooze. I turned my pillow over to the cool side, and shut my eyes to adjust to the overhead light slowly, hopefully through my eyelids over the next ten minutes (which passed in approximately three seconds before the alarm screamed at me once more).

By the third snooze cycle, I mustered the courage to keep my eyes open, and I was running out of cool sides of the pillow anyway. I dragged myself to the sink and tried to hold down last night’s shrimp cocktail as I splashed some water on my face. I won that battle with some effort, and eyed the toothbrush with distrust. The thought of anything flavored close to peppermint schnapps threatened to… better not to think about that just yet.

I poured a bit of vodka into my morning OJ, and that helped settle my stomach a bit. Hair of the dog and all that. I’d have a few apologies to make after last night’s office Christmas party. Milton’s wife had been especially pissy, but he was laughing with me the whole time so it can’t have been that bad. Besides, her own damn fault for not having fun; like no one ever mixed medication and booze? Come on. She didn’t have to be so straight, but I guess a quick “sorry” call to that shrew later this week would make Milton’s life easier. There was another apology I needed to make, but I couldn’t remember all the details. Something with a scream… eh, it would come to me eventually. Maybe once this headache eased up a bit. It felt like there were too many memories fighting for space in my skull, but some of them were too dark to make out.

I puttered around the apartment until I found a pair of jeans that smelled okay (and my second shoe, on the balcony for some reason), and resigned myself to facing the outside world. One more vodka before I faced the world, and I was off. My own damn fault for waiting until Christmas Day to do shopping, but Maria would be pissed if I didn’t show up with something at my dad’s place for lunch. The only thing I knew was open was the corner drugstore, so I turned that way, bracing against the cold. The wind felt good against my face anyway, still hot. Maybe I was coming down with something.

The cashier looked miserable to be working as I opened the jingling door, but it wasn’t my fault her boss decided to stay open. No matter how hard she glared at me as I browsed the aisles. A nice box of chocolates for Maria (how do you shop for a step-parent that’s younger than you, anyway?) and a six-pack for my dad, the nice stuff, and I was done. Thank heaven sis had already picked up something for tonight at mom’s, so all I had to do was sign the card. With my head splitting open like it was, any gift I would have chosen would have been a disaster.

The visit was almost unbearable until dessert, when the end was finally in sight and the comfort of baked goods made us all friends again. Maria begged all through lunch for me to come visit more often, like more time together would do anything to help me relate to a twenty-something who grew up without the concept of rewinding. At least there would be a little time between dad’s place and mom’s. I made a half-hearted toast (“to family, the wrapping paper that holds us together during this crazy season”… or some other vapid garbage, I forget already) and excused myself before pops could get all preachy on me. He looked concerned when he told me to be safe out there, maybe a bit more than normal. I couldn’t be safe forever, and we both knew it.

I slid behind the wheel of my van, built back when America used to use real metal in their cars instead of today’s carbon-fiber nonsense, and shut my eyes for just a second to clear my head. A flash of something between a memory and a premonition moved behind my eyes, a hint of a terrible mistake and a tragedy that I couldn’t quite place. It seemed like it had happened to me before, but also not quite yet.

A tap on my window woke me up. I was parked outside mom’s apartment, and it troubled me a little that I didn’t know how my car and I had gotten there. The meter maid that had tapped his notebook on my window shook his head in disapproval and I hated him for a second. Like he had any right to judge me? Better that I take a little nap than… well, I had made it anyway, and I’d be more careful on the drive home.

I trudged up the steps to the cute little four-plex, and my sister buzzed me in. The air smelled of asphalt and rubber; odd, in a hundred year old lobby. Her insipid little boyfriend would probably be there too, and I cracked my neck and took a deep breath before plastering on my fake smile. Mom flung open the door before I knocked, and enveloped me in a stifling hug of perfume and wool. Libby’s boyfriend was here all right, grinning like an idiot in his ugly Christmas sweater. He wasn’t so bad once you got a few beers in him, but lately he had gotten Libby on this anti-sugar crusade. At least she still laughed at my jokes, teetotaler or not.

Dinner was good, and it got me thinking about the last time I had an honest-to-goodness home cooked meal. I couldn’t quite remember what I had eaten yesterday, although it seemed like it had been somewhat healthy… but that can’t have been right, because my work party was last night. Either way, tonight’s ham was delicious, and the wine paired with it made all the typical discussions of politics and extended family drama a bit more palatable. Mom and I snuck off to the kitchen for shots of cinnamon whiskey a few times (to our health!), by the end of the night we were all hugs and laughs like a good family should be. My headache had faded somewhere between the third and fourth shot. Even Libby’s boyfriend, although his “family” status was still probationary as far as I was concerned.

I had stayed about an hour and two drinks later than I meant to, but the car’s lights worked fine. The road was wobbling a little bit, but if I just focused I should be fine. The last stretch of straight road towards my house got a bit boring, and my eyelids started drooping against my wishes. No one was ever on this mile, especially after dark, so I squeezed my eyes shut hard for just a second to clear the blur. As the world faded to black, I heard a sickening thud and a girl’s muffled scream.

My alarm brayed at me incessantly, and even pulling the pillow over my ears didn’t stop the ringing from working its way into the growing fissure in my brain. The only thing worse than the sound was the burning light that assaulted me when I opened my eyes to hit the snooze. I turned my pillow over to the cool side, and shut my eyes to adjust to the overhead light slowly, hopefully through my eyelids over the next ten minutes (which passed in approximately three seconds before the alarm screamed at me once more).