Pushing Through

Dina was the type of person to buy the same combo from the same burger joint by her house. Never trying anything new, happy with what she knew. In other words, Dina hated trying new things. Change. Diverging from routine. This is why she stayed laying in bed, procrastinating getting dressed. She stared at the popcorn ceiling, imagining a spider hitting its leg at one of the biggest pieces of ‘popcorn’, letting it fall and hit Dina in her eye. Dina knew she couldn’t stay there forever, despite how much she wanted to. Her room was her place. One hundred percent safe, one hundred percent Dina. It took her years to finally settle on the layout. Her baby blue walls gave off a calming feeling as her ten plants stood by the window. It was a little too small for her liking, but once she removed the big antique dresser with carvings around the mirror and drawers to the basement, it was satisfactory. Dina began to think about getting an additional plant to fill a gap by the right corner of her window sill when her phone started ringing. It was the default Apple ringtone that she absolutely hated but was always too lazy to change. Dina left it ringing. She stared at the screen, knowing she would call her eventually. Christine. Her dearest best friend, most annoying friend as well. Dina rubbed her eyes until her phone fell silent then waited for the text messages. Immediately three loud dings came from her phone. She opened to her messages and saw Christine asking where she was, how much longer would she take? Dina rolled onto her side and replied “Almost done. Give me ten minutes.”

It was too cold outside to bother putting together a cute outfit so it did take Dina ten minutes to get ready. She threw on some black pants with a black turtleneck. Before grabbing her keys, she decided to add a bit of lip gloss and perfume and then she was out. It was about a two minute walk to Chrsitine’s house, but with all the snow on the ground it quickly took twice as long.

To her dismay, she reached Christine’s street. Her blue garage door stood out from her neighbours’ bland white ones. Taking a step forward, Dina felt her ankle slip on some ice. For just a second, it slid into an angle it definitely shouldn’t be in with whatever weight she had on it, pressing down. Dina fell to her knees with a scream. This is why she hated winter. Her sole focus was on the pain in her ankle until she caught a movement of red from the corner of her eye. A red sedan drove by, sliding on a patch of ice on the road. The car spun out and hit a tree a few feet in front of her. The car was close enough that she could smell burning rubber. Dina scrambled back on her hands, trying her best to coddle her ankle.

Dina slammed the palm of her hand against Christine’s door. She shifted her weight to her right leg and pounded on the door again.

“Christine it’s me, please open the door.” Dina had to take a deep breath before and after that short sentence. The pain was getting worse. Delightfully, the sound of a lock clicking open came from behind the door.

“Finally you’re here, what took you so — Why do you look like shit?”

“Slipped on ice. Also a car slammed into your neighbour's tree.” Dina limped inside.

She heard Christine lock the door behind her. “Sit on the couch, I’ll grab some ice.” Dina collapsed onto the couch. It had been in Christine’s family since the seventies. There were more holes in it than a slice of swiss cheese but it was the comfiest piece of furniture Dina had ever touched. On the table to her left, candles and sigils were spread out. It seemed that Christine was well prepared. She seemed like a professional compared to Dina who’s never done this before. Christine rushed into the room with a giant bag of frozen peas.

“So turns out we don’t have any ice.” Christine placed the bag onto Dina’s ankle and waited for Dina to grab the bag herself.

“This won’t dampen our plans, right?”

Dina looked into Christine’s pleading eyes, wanting to use her injured ankle as an excuse to get out of this. “Yeah, we’ll still do it.” Christine jumped up with a smile and planted a kiss on Dina’s forehead. She ran out of the room and Dina heard her footsteps bouncing up the stairs. Sitting up on the couch, Dina started to take deep breaths. She wiped her hands on her pants and grabbed her phone. She checked her face in its reflection and noticed a little glint coming from her chest. A cross necklace. Her mother had purchased it for her when she visited Italy three years ago. Dina threw her phone beside her and fiddled with the cross. Deciding that it would be too offensive to God, she unclasped it and slipped it into her back pocket.

“Okay, I got everything.” Christine skipped into the room holding a bowl, salt, and chalk. Christine placed everything onto the table and dragged it in front of the couch. She kneeled down and looked at Dina, expectantly. Dina shimmied on the couch, an inch away from Christine.

“You know I’ve never done this before.”

“Yeah I know. But I’ve done it twice and everything went great.” Christine grabbed Dina’s hand and held it in her own. “Trust me? To try something new?” Dina took a few seconds to respond. In return, she gripped Christine’s hand back. “Alright.” Dina wasn’t confident in her decision and she was even less so when Christine reached behind her. She brought forth a knife, flipped Dina’s hand, palm facing upwards, and sliced it open. Dina screamed, feeling the pain from her hand merge with the pain in her ankle. Christine quickly brought the bowl under Dina’s hand and watched as it filled with blood.