Her small hands had contracted into fists against the grass, believing she could hold onto the power that bore down on her. Her parents had found her lying among the stars. Her father lay down on her right side, her mother on her left.
‘What are you doing out here, little bird?’ her father asked.
Eve pointed to the stars above her. ‘Trying to fly.’
‘I think I can see Orion.’ Her mother reached out for Eve and trailed the stars above her, their hands wrapped in each other’s.
‘Do you think you could count them all, little bird?’
Eve had giggled when her mother started counting a cluster near Orion. ‘Too many.’ She shook her small head.
Her father wrapped a protective arm around her body. ‘Remember, Eve. In the beginning, there were only stars.’
Eve tried to hold onto the memory, but it swam away from her fingertips until she was clutching at empty air. Eve parted her lips and drew in a small breath. She searched Laura’s blue eyes. They stared back at her intently. Eve knew she would have to tell her everything she had locked away, on the cusp of conversation but never making it into the air. Strings of anxiety struck out. Eve sunk into the pillow. Laura’s tired eyes closed after three failed attempts to keep them open. The warmth from her body made Eve drift off to sleep.
The nightmares stretched their claws up to her in greeting. Eve felt their cold, cracked fingers draw tight around her limbs, tugging her higher towards the ceiling. The orange shards of glass grew smaller below her then left her vision; she was pulled into a black starless sky. Eve’s eyes caught a glimpse of grey skin cracked and crumpled like ash, before she fell from their grasp and hit the ground. Eve scrambled to her feet and looked around. The floor below her was made out of glass. Laura slept peacefully underneath it. Eve pounded on the glass, she kicked, bashed and tried to scream but the hands of her nightmare had stolen her voice. The air around her started to lift and rustle like the middle of a storm. The wind intensified and pushed her forwards. The landscape before her transformed and rolled away like carpet. Trees thick with creaking branches grew around her, enclosing her within a forest. Eve stopped walking and watched the shifting branches. She bit hard on her tongue when she saw what lined them. Rows and rows of jagged teeth stared back at her from folds in the branches, cutting through the bark and pointing towards the sky. The teeth quivered with every step she took. The further she ran, the closer the branches came to her, closing off the distance she had made. An object rose in the distance. When she drew close enough, she stared at a mirror. Its frame was rotten black wood, with thick cracks like scars. She looked into the mirror. Her pale face smiled back at her, lip curled. Her reflection crossed its arms and bowed forwards. Eve looked down at her own arms against her hips and, when she looked back into the mirror, her reflection uncrossed its arms and lifted a long pale finger to its lips in silence.
Behind the reflection, a blurred shape appeared. It stretched a long-clawed hand to reach her shoulder. The black gleaming nails made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. A voice roared behind her. Eve spun around to empty air. The voice tickled her neck and huffed against her ear. Eve shut her eyes. ‘Where to fly now, little bird?’
Eve woke covered in sweat, her fists clutching the sheets. She slipped out from the bed and stumbled to the bathroom, turned on the tap and cupped cold water to her face. Eve returned to bed and, propping herself up on her elbow, she watched Laura sleep. Her chest rose and fell slightly, her hands twitched against invisible objects of sleep.
Soft rays of light filtered in through the stained-glass window, the light danced against her skin. Laura reached out for Eve, only grabbing empty sheets. Laura searched the room to spot a note on the fridge; she was disappointed to find it bare. She reached for her phone just as the door knob turned. Eve peeked her head through and smiled. She balanced two Styrofoam cups and a box under her arm.
‘Sorry … I didn’t want to wake you.’ The rich smell of coffee and sugar hit Laura. Eve offered her one of the cups and flicked back the pink lid of the box. Thick, glazed cinnamon scrolls stared back at her. Laura took a bite bigger than she could bear. Eve watched her, amused.
‘Sleep well?’ Eve asked, after Laura managed to chew and swallow the enormous bite.
‘Very.’ Laura wiped the sugar from her lips with the back of her hand.
‘So, what do you want to do today?’ Eve asked, her cup almost empty.
Laura tilted her head to the side. ‘I want an unscheduled day.’
Eve grinned. ‘Look at you, not being in control.’ She made her way over to the turntable and needled a track. It started with a quick beating of drums. The drums meshed together with a deep base guitar and a high lead male vocalist. Eve threw her arms in the air and moved them about wildly, Laura watching on with a grin. Eve’s lips moved softly to the words, her whole body alive. Laura tried to keep up with the quick pace of the song, but Eve made it look effortless. Laura stopped and stared when Eve spun through the air. Her feet slapped against the floor, her chest pumped forwards. The song became slower and then distant. It finished. Eve blew out a deep breath and collapsed onto her bed.
‘You have to stop dancing like that … I can hardly do the Macarena.’ Laura rolled beside her.
Eve shrugged. ‘It’s just practice.’
‘How do you do it? Making it look that easy?’
Eve smiled. ‘You convince yourself you’re made of water.’
Laura rolled closer to Eve and wiped at a slither of sweat on her forehead. She traced the bridge of her nose. Laura’s hand fiddled with Eve’s collar, her thumb gripping the thin material. She pulled it down to expose her tattoo. Her eyes flitted over the design. She traced a swirl of colour and trapped a star under her forefinger.
Laura blinked slowly. ‘Can’t we just stay here … forever?’
Eve sighed. ‘I wish.’ She reached around to the side of her drawer, her hands rummaging for something. Eve held it up. Balanced between her fingers was a rolled joint. ‘Do you …?’ Eve let the question hang in the air.
Laura shifted to her knees. She watched the uneven joint, the white paper rolling back and forth between Eve’s fingers. Maybe it was the odd light, basking orange onto the floorboards, or maybe it was the way Eve’s eyes glinted, that made her say yes. Eve lit the joint and carefully handed it over to Laura. She wetted her dry lips and brought the joint to her lips. It was harsh, harsher than she remembered from her teenage years but a lot better.
‘Mmm.’ Laura stretched and pressed her lips together.
She handed it back to Eve, who inhaled, deeply. The smoke came out in a steady stream from the corner of her mouth. It curled past her black eyebrows and thinned into the air. Laura took another puff and instantly felt more relaxed; the muscles in her shoulders felt smooth, her chest seemed to unwind. She felt like all the sharp edges in the room had fallen away, replaced with a fluid current lighter than air itself, like the weight of thoughts. Laura closed her eyes and swayed her body back and forth. She parted her lips when Eve’s thumb ran across her bottom lip.
Eve was the first to speak. ‘My parrot got baked once.’ She took another drag and blew smoke rings towards the ceiling.
‘Is that a euphemism for something?’
‘No, my parents used to smoke quite a bit. My father had taken him out and put him on his shoulder. Second-hand smoke for Polly.
