Page 147 of Cruel Pleasures
She pops her head through the crack in the door. “You okay? You barely said hi.”
“Long day at work.” I can’t bring myself to look at her. Earlier I was hotheaded. In the privacy of my bedroom, I’m depleted. Depleted and… depressed.
The ‘D’ word has been a complicated one throughout my life. I witnessed what it did to my mother and how she could barely get out of bed. How she stopped being a mother and drowned herself in drugs and alcohol, and I vowed it could never be me.
I’d never let some invisible monster have that kind of power over me. I’m fine on my own. I don’t need anyone.
“Imani?” Emerald says.
I look up to find a rare, concerned frown on Emerald’s face. The type to be insensitive and blunt to the end, the expression makes my insides knot tighter. I must be fucked up if a hustler like Emerald’s concerned.
“I just asked you a question,” she says. “You were acting like you didn’t even hear me.”
“Sorry. I’m exhausted. I’m just… I’m going to go to bed.”
“You’ve been doing that a lot. Bed right after work.”
I can’t even come up with an excuse, so I shrug and plop down on my bed to peel off my booties.
“Do you want to come down? We got pizza and weed.”
“No thanks.”
“Chrissean was talking about hitting up Two-Twelve later. You should come.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Is this about your friend Lyra?”
The muscles in my face pull tight without my consent. I turn my head to disguise my reaction and focus on pulling back the covers. “No.”
“Then it’s the Cyber Fans thing? The invite to join that guy? You were gone for weeks. I’ve had clients switch up on me too?—”
“Please,” I interrupt, my tone crude, “I don’t want to talk to anyone right now, okay? Emerald, close the door. I’m going to sleep.”
Her thin, penciled brows jump in mild offense before she nods and then mentions something about downstairs. The door snicks shut and the rest of the air seeps out of my lungs. Finally, I’m alone enough to take off the mask I’ve been wearing all day.
It only takes minutes to drift off.
Hours pass ’til the next time I open my bleary eyes and check the time.
Whereas earlier the vague traces of the TV and voices of my roommates traveled upstairs, now the rest of the townhouse is dead silent. They must’ve gone out to Two-Twelve like Emerald said they would.
I’m sluggish getting out of bed and stretching. Though it feels like an eternity has passed, it’s only been two and a half hours. Early for the nightlife Emerald and the others went out to have, but still kind of late for dinner.
I head down to the kitchen anyway once my stomach rumbles one too many times.
The townhouse has never felt more vacant. I’ve been home alone many times, yet as I flick on the light in the living room and watch how it chases away the heavy shadows, a ripple of unease hits me. I glance around and try to place its cause.
It’s almost as if… I’m alone but not alone.
I’m alone but another presence occupies the space I’m in. The weight that’s sinking down on me only presses down harder. I’m more acutely aware of how I’m haunted and always will be. How Lyra’s disappearance and what happened with the Midnight Society will always be a part of me now.
I’ve stopped wondering why Lyra had to leave without a goodbye. I’ve even stopped beating myself up over the risk I took by going undercover with the Midnight Society.
What’s the point when it’s all said and done? I can’t change any of it.
The repercussions aren’t going anywhere. I’ll have to live with them.
