Chapter Text
Chapter 1
When I heard the knock on my door, my first instinct was to ignore it. I sat on my green sofa, watching as my record cried out to me. My arms laid lifeless on the arms on the soft fabric as the box-filled room bothered my mind, taking any future energy away from me. If I had a choice on how to live, I would have stayed sat and watched my record go on forever. However, since an early age, I have felt my life was not my own, so I got up and opened the door.
The lady who stood in front of my doorway eyes glossed over me like I was an exhibit in a museum. She was wearing sweatpants; they were too big for her, and her shirt had a red stain right below her boob. I tried not to stare at it as she spoke. I ignored the saliva that flew from her chapped lips. "Can you turn that music down? My kids are trying to study," she said. Not even a hello or any kind of introduction.
I thought she must have been lying because it was summer, but then I remembered that summer school existed. I took in the dark rings that outshine her eyes and the clearly used wooded spoon she grasped like it was all she was. My red lips smiled at her. "Of course." She turned away, walking deeper into the hall, becoming smaller the further she walked. I closed my door, about to head to my record player when there was another knock. I sighed, opening it again. "I'm turning down the music," I told the next stranger.
The next stranger looked more put together. Her eyebrows behind her silver rounded glasses raised. "I was just going to introduce myself and welcome you to the building."
"Oh. Haha, sorry. Someone just asked me to turn down the music."
"Was it Ms. Mindy? Short? Always upset? She hates any kind of noise."
"She said her kids were trying to study."
The lady pushed her lips together, before shaking her head a bit. "She doesn't have any kids." I tilted my head to the side. "I know, it's weird," she said, shaking the idea away with her hand. "Anyways, hello, welcome! I'm May Parker. You can call me May, Ms. Parker, Ms. May, whichever one you are most comfortable with, though I do prefer to be called by my name and not something like 'ma'am' or 'lady'. I live just across the hall." She held her hand out.
I gently placed my hand in hers and shook it. She looked at me like it was my turn to speak. "I'm Marina Roció. I just moved in with my mom." She tried to look behind me, but I got in the way of her eyes. There wasn't much to see. Grey carpet, green sofa pointing at nothing, and gross fluorescent lights illumination above it all turning everything into an ugly tint of yellow.
"Is your mother home?"
"She's at work."
"And she just left you to do all the heavy lifting?" She was judging. Her tone dipped into the flabbergasted territory. She wasn't wrong. Leaving a 15-year-old to unpack their life was cruel, but I was offended that she thought that too.
I found myself defending my mother's bad behavior. "It's not that much. I'll tell her you stopped by if you want."
"Yes. Please do. I would love to formally introduce myself to her."
"Yeah, okay."
She stared at me with a smile. I smiled back, my fake eyelashes fluttering. I felt like I was blinking too much. The hoops on my ears felt heavy. I was too aware of this moment, almost as if it held more significance to it than I was giving it credit for.
"Well, I should get going. I need to run some errands. If you ever need anything at all, don't think too much about it, just ask. I'm happy to help."
"Okay."
"Okay. It was nice meeting you, Marina."
"You too."
I closed the door and ceased my record from playing. I didn't want any more neighbors to knock on my door. Instead, I ate a snack in the quiet on the square table placed against the wall in the small kitchen, right in front of the fridge. I have to move it over every time I open the fridge. The floor tile in the kitchen was an off white color. I didn't look at it as I ate but looked at the tan wall in front of me instead. I ate my snack in the bitter dark, before starting to unbox some of my stuff. I only intended to do a few, but I ended up doing it all. There wasn't much stuff. I kind of just placed everything in the places they would fit. I was proud of how I organized my mother's record collection.
I was in my bed when I heard my mom come home. I thought of greeting her, but figured it would be easier for both of us if I pretended I was asleep. That way we didn't need to deal with all the mess. Even if I tried, she would only shut me down. I heard music through the thin walls. My mom liked to listen to music quietly, yet somehow the melody sneaked its way into my room. Before I knew it, I was drowning on the words of a stranger, no way to escape.
My mother left for work before I woke up. She usually did, so I wasn't surprised when I walked into the kitchen and saw she had left the butter out. I sighed, moving the small plastic table to the side so I could open the fridge. I placed the sealed butter in and took out a tube of orange juice with no pulp. I filled a small glass with the liquid, before placing the jug back in the fridge and placing the table back to where it belonged so it didn't block the small kitchen entrance.
I looked out to the apartment as I drank my juice. I could see it all. To the left was the front door. To the right was the hall with the two rooms and a bathroom. On the wall with the door stood the desk, on the other wall across was where the recorded player was. I noticed that the records were organized differently than I had put them last night. I tried not to think about the fact that my mom had changed the one thing I was proud of. Right in front of me was, of course, the green sofa that pointed at nothing, but really it pointed at the best thing about the whole apartment, the windows. They weren't very tall, or even pretty, but the view beyond them was breathtaking.
I had an actual meal and then I sat at the desk near the door for most of my day. I put a lot of work into my outfit and into my makeup even though I knew that I was going to stay in the entire day. I edited the few photos I took of my home before the move. I actually had a backyard then. Most of my photos were related to nature. Flowers, trees, little animals like frogs and dragonflies. Some were pictures of my friends from back home, a lot of them blurry, a lot of them taking them during parties. One was of my father and me. I passed by it as soon as I saw it.
I took a break from editing my photos. I ate some lunch. Watched some funny videos online. I got bored and started to re-organize my mother's record collection along with a few other things. Someone stole our tv during the move. My mom said she would buy a new one. I had a sandwich and a bag of chips for dinner. I washed the dishes, cleaned out food that had turn bad during the move, and grabbed the trash bag to throw it away. I made sure to have my keys since the door automatically locked once it shuts.
I ventured out into the hall with a bag of spoiled food, trying to find the trash shoot. It was near the end of the hall. I walked back to my apartment, grabbed my keys, looked through my keys, looked through my keys again once more as my heart plunged into the sea that was my anxiety, before whispering to myself, "No, no, no," jiggling the handle a couple of times, and accepting that I was indeed screwed.
I called my mom as soon as I realized I was locked out of the apartment. She didn't pick up. I called her again once it was dinner time, my back against my door, my knees pulled in. She didn't pick up. I called her each time someone walked down the hall, just so it seemed like I knew what I was doing. Some old dude walked past me twice down the hall. It was creepy. I felt gross. I flicked him off. I huddled next to my door, my face resting on my knees for a very long time. Each moment telling myself that soon my mother would come home. I stopped using my phone when it got to low power mode, scared to waste any more battery life. Time passed me.
"Marina?" It was Ms. May with bags in her hands. I smiled at her. Was my eyeliner still intact? "What are you doing out here? Did you get locked out?"
"Yeah." Ms. May placed the bags down on the floor. My eyes followed them as they made their journey. She pulled out a set of keys from her purse. "I have to wait until my mom gets home."
Her back was faced towards me as she unlocked her door. The door swung open slowly. I was surprised to see how big her apartment looked. It was nearly twice the size of mine. How much rent did she pay? "Would you like to come in? Wait for your mom inside? These floors aren't exactly clean."
It was tempting, but I shook my head to each side. "She called me and said she was on her way. She'll be here soon. Thank you, though." That was a complete lie, but if I had said the truth, I felt like she was going to drag me into her apartment with her kindness.
She hung by the door for a moment, looking at me like I was an abounded puppy. She grabbed her bags of groceries. "Let me just put these away and I'll come wait with you."
She was so caring and nice. I knew she only wanted to help, but sometimes the best type of help is just letting someone be. I shook my head again. "You don't have to. Seriously. My mom will be here in minutes."
"Well, maybe I should still stick around. That way I can introduce myself."
My chin moved forward. I couldn't believe her words. They were rainbows coming out of her mouth, filling the badly lit hall and adding color to it. "She's really tired," I said, "She told me that she's going to bed as soon as she comes home. But I did tell her about you. She is so excited to meet you. She told me she would introduce herself when she's not working." Lies, lies, and more lies. They slip out of my mouth and kill the rainbows.
"Really? I look forward to meeting her then." Ms. May stood in the hall nodding her head. The hand that was holding her bags was shaking a bit, probably tired. "Well, then, I should get inside. It was nice seeing you again, Marina."
"You too."
I watched as she stepped into her abnormally large apartment and waited until the door was shut to move to the staircase of the apartment building. I didn't want her checking up on me an hour later only to find me sitting in my lies. I tried my mom again, but she didn't pick up, so I was in the same position as before, with my knees in and my head down. At least the staircase had a window. It was drizzling and it calmed some of my anxiety. I was there for an even longer time. When the rain stopped, footsteps followed.
"Are you okay?"
I looked up, ready to make my defense once more to another exceptionally nice person, but lost any words I started to say when I looked into the eyes of a teenager. He was coming from the roof. His brown eyes attracted me the most as his head tilted to the side. His brown hair was wet and bits of it were stuck to his forehead. Usually, teenagers don't bother with helping people. I didn't, at least. Was everyone in this building nice? "I'm fine. I locked myself out of my apartment so now I'm just waiting for my mom. She's on her way."
He was wearing a backpack, but it seemed like it was only carrying air. "Oh. Okay." He started to continued walking down the stairs, but he kept looking back at me. He had made it down, only to look up at me and stare. "Are you new?"
Did the building have some kind of news flyer I didn't know about? "Yeah. My mom and I just moved in."
He took a few steps towards me up the stairs, but still had a huge amount of stairs between us when he stopped. "I, uh, I actually think we're neighbors."
"Really?"
"Yeah, you, uh, you met my Aunt. May Parker."
"May Parker is your aunt?" I asked. Maybe it wasn't the building that had nice people, just the family. It seemed I couldn't escape the Parker name.
"Yeah, she is. I live with her, so we live right across the hall from each other."
Was he going to tell her he saw me in the hallway? "You're aunt is really nice."
"Yeah, she is." He nodded his head.
"Would you mind not telling her that you saw me?"
"Why would I not tell her?"
"It's just this...thing. I really don't want to get into it. Could you just not tell her?"
He said, "Yeah, okay," but I knew that he was going to tell her. He looked away when he said it.
I wasted a, "Thanks," on him and watched him walk back down the stairs. How strange that I left the confront of my front door to escape Ms. May, only to meet her nephew in my new location. It was like I was cursed. "Hey, how did you know I was...me? Can you tell that I am completely out of my element or something?" I laughed to mask my curiosity.
He turned from his spot. "Oh, because of your hair."
"My hair?"
"Yeah, Aunt May told me you had shiny hair."
"So? Am I the only person who has shiny hair in this building?" I asked.
"Well, it wasn't just your hair. It was also your hair things." He pointed to the side of his own head while his brown eyes looked a little above me. I touch one of the hair clips that was keeping strains out of my face. "She really liked your hair thingies."
"Yeah? Wow, okay."
"Yeah." He stood in his spot at the end of the staircase. His hands wrapped around both of his backpack's straps looking off to the side.
"I'm Marina, by the way." I stood up a little, my hand extended out. I usually only do handshakes with adults, but I extend my hand without much thought. I felt awkward and he didn't seem to be leaving so I did something to fill the space.
"Oh, right, right." He hurried up the stairs, wrapping his hand around mine. He looked into my eyes and said, "I'm Peter."