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The sun’s already resting in the pale blue sky by the time Lacey opens her eyes. It’s been years at this point, but she still expects to wake up to the rotting wallpaper in front of her eyes and musty pillow under her head. That half of her life can’t just escape her mind.
A little nose and long whiskers brush against her face. Stormy, her little white and gray kitten, sits by her pillow.
“Hey, kitty,” Lacey croaks. Her voice barely escapes her — she was deep in sleep. She stretches and sits up as Stormy walks across her lap. “Are you ready for breakfast, girl?”
Lacey’s routine has become second nature to her. Wake up, feed Stormy, make a cup of coffee, sit and look out the window. She’s in a second story apartment; close enough to everyone that she feels like a part of society, but far enough from the ground to calm her fears of anything and everything out there.
The pale sky hides everyone walking below. They look less like people from afar, and more like little dolls. Paper figures, maybe. Like those bathroom signs, she tells herself. Everyone’s dull coats blend together, like streaks of beige and gray. She sips her coffee — still too hot. Even with a splash of cold cream.
Lacey’s always caught between serenity and dread while looking out windows like these. There are the good memories — sitting with her childhood dog, staring out her bedroom window while pretending she couldn’t hear noise downstairs. And there are the bad ones.
Stormy jumps up onto Lacey’s lap. She pressed her paw against the window.
I’m no longer trapped inside.
But sometimes her fears keep her locked up. Even if he’s dead, she can’t help but worry that he’s still watching. Her setting has changed to resemble a home she wished she would’ve grown up in, completely devoid of any reminder of where she came from. It’s dreamy; nearly perfect. Yet…
There’s a knock on the door.
Lacey jumps, a chill going down her spine. She pulls herself back into reality, rationalizing with herself. She lives in a city; there’s bound to be people knocking on her door. She has friends, she orders packages, and solicitors are always around.
The floors creek under her feet as she tiptoes toward the door. She moves to the peephole – she’s made it a habit to check before she unlocks the door.
…it’s Maisie and Jay.
Her shoulders relax. She unlocks the deadbolt and opens the door, plastering a smile over her still-anxious face.
“Hey girl!” Jay nearly bounds through the doorway, inviting herself in. “What? You’re not dressed yet? I was sure you’d be up and all…”
“Give her a minute,” Maisie sighs, rolling her eyes. “Sorry for coming by so suddenly. And Jay inviting herself in…”
Lacey’s smile turns genuine. Her friends can be a little much, but they’re caring, and always there for her. “It’s alright, I was going to get ready soon…”
“Alright!” Jay whoops. “We wanted to hang out. Haha, that’s why we’re here. I’m off work, Maisie’s off work, and you are too, so…”
“…we were going to go to the mall,” Maisie says. “We’re not forcing you to come, but…”
Her friends are always dragging her out. But she appreciates it; it gives her a taste of the high school years she never had.
“I’m in, for sure,” Lacey smiles. “Just give me a minute to get ready.”
Lacey goes back into her room and throws open her closet. Stormy looks up at her from her napping spot by the window.
“I’ll be back, kitty.”
Lacey grabs out her pair of peach-colored canvas jeans and a green belt, along with an off-the-shoulder crop-top. She throws everything on and goes to the bathroom to do her hair. Two greenish-bluish pigtails. She brushes her teeth, making sure her smile is extra pearly white.
“I’m ready!”
Malls are a thing of Lacey’s childhood, but in the city she lives, there are still bustling and modern malls. She walks around with Maisie and Jay, laughing and chatting as they look at the cute and chic clothes from brands Lacey never had the chance to wear as a kid. Even if her paycheck can’t get her too far in terms of brand clothing, she still can fulfill her childhood dreams and wishes.
“Yo, radical!” Jay points to a pair of ripped jeans. “These look sick.”
“Are you going to pay for jeans with half the pant leg missing?” Maisie chuckles. She points to a long, silky skirt with sparkly stars on it. “This is cute, though.”
Lacey looks over the clothing on the racks. A pair of jeans with stars embroidered into them. A floral tube top. A hoodie with a little dog print.
Lacey smiles.
The girls walk around, grabbing some boba and sweets as they go.
Lacey’s anxiety spikes as they walk by a group of boys about their age. She knows they’re not looking at her; she knows they won’t hurt her. But her body can’t help but send a pulse of fear through her spine.
“Yo, are we going to the studio later?”
Lacey’s mind calms down. She looks at Jay. “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to find time this week.”
“I’m down to go today,” Maisie says.
“Sweet! I got some crazy shit to show you with my new drumkit…”
Jay and Maisie start to bicker, with Jay continuing to talk louder and louder and Maisie trying to quiet her. Even when she’s not joining in on the chatting and laughing, she still feels a sense of serenity that was missing from her life for years.
~~~
“Alright, I really have to go. I don’t want to show up to my bakery shift tomorrow completely asleep.”
Lacey zips her guitar case, waving to Maisie as she heads out of the studio. Lacey doesn’t have an early start tomorrow – she works at a diner after all – but she needs to get home to her cat.
“I’ll lock up,” Jay says to Lacey. “You can head out if you need.”
“Alright.” Lacey smiles and waves. “I’ll talk to you soon!”
It’s already dark outside, but every street Lacey walks by is illuminated by streetlamps and shop windows. People walk by, their faces lit up by the light from their phones. Others sit in restaurants Lacey passes by, chatting and laughing.
Lacey walks by the diner she works at. It’s packed, as always. The customer’s smiles irk her. Way too many people hide snide comments behind cheerful grins. And people barely tip, anyway.
Lacey walks up to her front door. Like every day she walks home alone, nothing happened. Nothing ever does. She unlocks the door and pushes it open.
She blinks.
She sees the old hallway she’d always come home to after school. It’s dark and dank; the stench of rot and alcohol grabs her senses. She can hear the murmuring old TV her uncle always watched. Its droning static creeps toward her. She feels like she’s being watched; that he’s just around the corner. She feels the rotten floorboards under her feet, feeling the cracks and holes cockroaches always crawl through–
Stormy walks by the door.
She’s not in that old hallway. She’s at home, in the apartment she’s come to love.
“Hey, kitty,” Lacey says, hanging up her bag and taking off her shoes. Stormy comes up to her, nuzzling her face against Lacey’s legs. She reaches down, scratching her on the head and chin. Story purrs.
“I’m home.”