“becoming liable”

Violet glared at Evan.

“Just shut up and let me tell her!”

“Violet, if you want to tell her, tell her!”

“Go to hell!”

Evan leaned back into his chair and huffed loudly, staring at the floor and tapping his foot. Violet turned to the new girl.

            “Have a seat.” Violet motioned to the empty chair between her and Evan. The new girl settled hesitantly into the circle and looked around at the others, eyeing all six of them one at a time, and then glancing around her at the other circles spread out in the sterile room around her. A bald man slouched in his chair directly across from and soaked in every inch of her teenage frame. Then he reached out his hand. She grasped it.

            “My name is Grisham, and I had sex with my best friend’s wife. Why are you here?”

            “I don’t really know. The guy at the door told me to sit here though.”

            “Oh, there’s a reason, honey!” said a grotesquely obese girl with stumpy fingers to her right.

Violet looked annoyed. “Anyway, this is where you can ask all the questions you need to, but first, I’ll tell you the story of the day that brought me here.”

Grisham threw his hand into the air. “Everyone has to share on their first day!” He yelled out. His voice was salted with anger.

“We’re going to do it this way today! Okay?” Violet asked. Grisham nodded, though the redness in his face remained. Violet paused, as if waiting for another interruption. When nothing came, she continued.

“There was something wrong that Tuesday. I sat at the kitchen table staring at my sister through the cup in front of me. My glass had melded together with her face, and both seemed broken. My mom was asleep on the couch a few feet away, and every window in the trailer was wide open. We had spent the last of my paycheck from the gas station the day before on a jar of grape jelly that Jessica dropped as we walked back to the trailer. It was hot that day, the kind of day in which flies swarmed the boiling jelly before it even finished spreading over the cement from it’s sudden splatter. Jessica had cried, touching the jelly with her fingers and then spreading some on her lips like a sugary lipgloss. I had just stared down at the purple mess.

‘We need to pick up Mark before we go. Are you ready?’ I asked.

‘Yeah, let’s go get the base head.’ Jessica stood up and walked out to the car without looking at me. We rode the whole way without speaking. Jessica just stared out the open window at the blur of trees speeding by as we cruised down the highway. I remember how her brown hair danced sparatically around her face in the wind, and how she burned her bare calf on the dash of my part-car Chevy. She was so beautiful that day!

When we got to Mark’s, he was already in the driveway, and already wasted. He was carrying a red backpack. On approach to the car, he pointed at Jessica, and then at the back seat. She climbed over, pushing aside my school bag before nestling behind me.

‘We’re going to 24 Village Springs Drive.’ Mark said, slurring every other word.

‘Hi to you too!’ I snapped. Mark slid down farther into his seat and pulled out a pocket knife from his pocket. My insides churned.

‘We’re not going to need that!’ I said blankly. Mark smiled without lifting his head, and flipped open the blade.

‘We’ll see!’

I pulled onto the highway, making exits and turns for each one of Mark’s instructional grunts accompanied by the occasional pointed finger. Soon, we were surrounded on both sides of the road by a dense forest.

‘This is it.’ Mark said, staring at a slim opening in the foliage through which a dirt road disappeared. ‘I don’t see any other cars!’

I didn’t move.

‘Oh come on, Violet! We go in. We take what we need, and you can pay for groceries for a month! ’ Mark threw his hands in the air and twisted his legs onto the seat to face me. He looked back at Jessica. ‘Don’t you want to do this?’ Jessica glared at him, and then at me in the mirror. Her eyes were blank.

 I pulled off the road, and the car’s engine coughed. Twigs reached for the car as we drove through the forest line, and once surrounded by trees, it became dark. There was a road, though primitive in nature. I switched on the lights and a one lane dirt road sprang up in front of us, bordered by pines. Jessica leaned forward next to my ear, and I could hear her breath over the cracking twigs under the tires. Branches seemed to reach through the windows for us as we passed, and the car was just beginning to smell of mold and dead leaves when I saw a tunnel of daylight  ahead of us.

‘Slow down!’ hissed Mark, gripping my wrist. I slowed the car to a crawl as we inched out of the tree line. Ahead was a white church. At some point it had been white, but with age and general lack of upkeep, it had faded to the color of snow after the wear and tear of too many boots. There were no other cars around as we stopped in front of the wooden steps, and Mark was the first out of the car. He wobbled his way to the front of the car and up to two front doors. For a moment, his head disappeared around the doorframe, and then he motioned for us to follow him inside.

I stopped in front of the steps, and tilted my head up to the steeple. As I stood, watching it stab the orange sky, I was afraid.

‘Come on!’ Mark demanded through gritted teeth. Jessica and I climbed the steps behind him, and slipped inside.

The corners of the sanctuary were laced with cobwebs, and the red, cloth covered pews on either side of the center aisle were almost white with dust. Mark strode ahead and onto the stage, his backpack bouncing with each step. Jessica walked up to the pulpit at the front tip of the stage and ran her hand through the dust, leaving behind a clean trail. I hurried to catch up with Mark. He was already down on his knees in front of the crucifix. If he hadn’t been poking at the wall under it, he could have been mistaken for having good intentions. He leaned over, reaching into a hole the size of his head just above the baseboard. His arm disappeared, and then I heard it.

My heart froze.

It was a hysterical, excited, wild laugh coming from somewhere behind me and echoing off the decaying walls. My eyes darted from Mark, to the left, then to the right. Mark’s head whipped around and his face tightened around his bulging, bloodshot eyes.

‘Stand up!’ The voice was coarse and demanding.

Mark stood, twisting his body to meet up with his head. Our eyes locked, mine brimming with tears, and his, pupils enflamed from his usual mix of coke and grass. I began to turn slowly.

‘You! Don’t move!’ The voice commanded. I froze as Mark passed by me. There was a brown box in his arms. I pressed my hands to the sides of my jeans and parted my lips.

‘Now, she’s a pretty one!’ I heard the voice say. There was a swishing sound, and  Jessica gasped behind me.

‘No!’ Mark yelled. Then  I heard footsteps, each one accompanied by a groaning of the floorboards as they strained with unexpected use. Jessica’s breathing was growing more audible by the second. I didn’t know what was happening, but my heart was clawing it’s way up into my throat and pounding with incredible power. I couldn’t breathe!

Then I heard the voice again. ‘What were you going to do with my stash, boy?’

There was no response. ‘Hand it over to me, and I’ll give her to you!’ The voice had turned almost playful.

 I could smell the rot in the walls closing in on me. It was overwhelming. My eyes swept over the crucifix in front of me, and down to the hole Mark had been reaching into. There was something sticking out of it. It was Mark’s pocket knife! My mind raced. I chanced a look over my shoulder. Mark was standing still in front of the pulpit. Across from him was a middle-aged bald man. He was dangerously skinny and had draped his skeleton in filthy overalls and work boots. His bony arm seized Jessica’s neck, and he held a pistol to her temple. She was glaring into my eyes with desperate uncertainty.

‘Just hand me the box, boy!’ The man was becoming angry.

I eased back around. Only Jessica was watching me. I could get the knife! I slid one foot forward, and then the other. I lowered myself in front of the hole, clenched the knife, and spun around on my toes with nimble care to not make a sound. I inched towards the man, keeping the large oak pulpit between us. Jessica’s eyes tracked my short journey.  My fingers pushed up the blade as I closed in. He was only feet away. It had to be now!

I lunged myself at the man. My blood rushed out to my fingertips and my mind seemingly imploded with euphoria and insanity. I felt my self make contact, and I felt warm blood on my hands. I opened my eyes. The knife had gone into his neck and blood was running down his chest and spilling onto the wooden floor. For a moment, nobody moved, then Mark dropped the box and grabbed Jessica’s arm, violently pulling her behind him. The man tried to say something to me, but no words came out. Only the gurgling of blood and mucus in his windpipe could be heard. I looked down at my shaking hands and then up at the knife protruding from the man’s neck as he waddled and swayed, struggling to breathe. His eyes strained against the veins holding them in as his face turned from pink, to red, to purple. His body began to shake. It started at his feet,  and crept up his legs. His limbs were erratic, but his fingers remained clutched around his gun. Then he raised it to my face.

Then I died.”

The circle around Violet was silent. A man in a white suit walked up to her and placed a file folder into her upturned hand. She smiled him, and then opened it. She was silent for a moment while she read.

“Okay.” She said, and handed the file back to him.

“Sweetheart...it looks like you won’t be staying here.” Violet stated flatly, turning her head to the new girl.

“Where am I going?” The girl’s was dripping with panic.

“Apparently, suicides are pre-decided.” Violet bowed her head. “You’re going across the river.”