Page 1 of Ravage
“Lord of all, as we say our final farewells, we commend Katrina and Jeffrey into your loving arms. May they rest in peace and rise in glory…” The preacher’s words of prayer float away into the wind as he finishes up. My tears have long since dried on my red cheeks; my fingers are numb from the cold wind blowing around us. There are not many people here, maybe ten, but that’s fine with me. I don’t even know anyone here besides my dead parents that are being lowered into the ground in the plain pine box. They always kept me sheltered, telling me thatthey were just keeping me safe. But in doing so, they really set me up for failure. Now I’m floundering to stay afloat in life without them. My work apron swirls around my thighs as the wind rustles it, forcing me to pull my jacket closer into me.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Sloane. Words can’t describe how sad I am for you.” A frail older woman says to me as she sidles up next to me. Wrapping her thin arms around me like she knows me when I’ve never seen her a day in my life. “Your parents were amazing people.” She squeezes me before taking a step back and smiling softly as she walks away. Leaving me to stand alone, staring at the giant hole in the ground that my parents now lay in.
Everyone slowly clears out of the cemetery; the only ones left are me and the gravesite workers. They pay me no mind as they dump heaps of dirt onto my parent's grave, covering them up from the world. The last tears that I have flow from my eyes and drop to the earth like anvils. I stand there until the workers are done, giving me pitying looks as they leave me behind. Walking over to the fresh dirt mound, I kneel there and weep for my recently departed parents until I have nothing left in me. The force of my tears has me dry-heaving into the dirt, my fingers digging in like they want to dig their cold bodies back out of the ground. Dirt now mars my work apron and my cheeks from me furiously swiping my tears away.
“Get up, Sloane, you’re getting your work clothes dirty! That is not the right impression to make.”I hear my mother's voice scolding me inside of my head; the snarkiness of it makes me straighten my spine and push to my feet. I brush the dirt off of my apron, pulling a mirror out of my small bag and using it to clean up my face the best I can. The dirt smudges are long gone, but my eyes are still puffy, red, and swollen. I trudge to my car, and it feels like a mile walk when it’s just right next to the grave. Getting behind the wheel, I close the door with a slam and bangmy hands against the steering wheel until my breathing is heavy. Turning the car on, I glance at the clock and make note that if I don’t get to work in the next fifteen minutes, I’m going to be late.
Blowing out a puff of air, I buckle my seatbelt and head straight to work. The traffic is light, almost knowing that I’m running late. Swerving into my parking spot, I bolt out of my car into The Ravage Café. The dark lighting and moody interior go perfectly with my mood today. I rush through the kitchen door and straight to the back to clock in for my shift, letting out a sigh of relief when I’m right on time.
“Why the hell are you here, Sloane?” My co-worker Cassy asks as she walks around the corner. “You should’ve taken the day off. I’m sure your head is a mess.” Her look of sympathy almost sends me back into a crying fit.
“I know that, Cass, but I just can’t. You know how bad I need this job and the money right now…” I drift off, not wanting to repeat the words I belted out to her last night in my drunken haze.
When my parents’ car went off that cliff, they died on impact, their car crushed to pieces at the bottom amongst the jagged rocks. Being the only child, it was no shock that they would leave everything to me, but the debt they also left for me was more than anything else. I had to immediately sell our family home to pay off most of the debt, but that left me with thousands to pay, so I’ve been working every available shift possible. I’ve also been sleeping in my car the last few days, which has been less than ideal.
“Why don’t you make the orders, and I’ll take the register today? Less peopling for you, and it will keep you busier.” I always work the register because she hates people more than I do, so I am shocked that she asked to change positions.
“Yeah, o-okay, let’s do that. Thank you, Cass.” I stumble over my words and give her a quick hug before making my way back to the counter to get the coffee brewing.
The day is long and runs far from smoothly. The endless stream of patrons was enough for Cass to call in backup to help with the orders after I had fumbled one too many. I felt defeated but was glad for the help when Andy showed up. Andy is quiet, and he is a coffee-making machine. I have never seen someone make drinks that fast before. By the time the shift is over, my ponytail is loose, coffee stains my apron, and I am completely drained. All of the patrons have finally left for the day, leaving messy tables in their wake. I tell Andy and Cass to leave for the day, and I will clean up and close up shop. We argued for a while, but they eventually relented when I said I just needed some quiet, mundane shit to do.
After over an hour I’ve made it through scrubbing down all of the tables, ridding them of coffee stains and muffin crumbs before circling back around to place the chairs on top of them. Grabbing the broom and dustpan from the back, I start on sweeping up the dirt and crumbs that have gathered under the tables. I sigh in relief that I don’t need to mop them tonight. As I’m passing the shop bulletin board, I stop to browse all of the ads. Someone is selling golden retriever puppies, while someone else is desperately looking for their schnauzer. Several job offers litter the board, and among them is aroommate-wantedflier. The flier contains photos of the apartment; it’s modern and very clean, with light grey carpeted floors and dark grey walls. The tenant states they are looking for a roommate who is willing to pay $200 a month as well as provide their own food and necessities. The price alone is enough for me to pull out my phone and jot down the information at the bottom. I make note of the phone number and the tenant's name, Kole Masterson.The thought of living with a man makes me uncomfortable, but it's much better than my current living situation.
After I finish jotting down all the info on the apartment, I finish up sweeping the floors, a rare excitement strumming through my veins. As soon as I’m satisfied with the cleanliness of the shop, I make sure everything is locked up before I exit and walk to my car. The night is cold and dark, sending shivers down my spine and causing me to tighten my jacket around me. I quickly unlock my car, climb into the driver's seat, slam the door shut, and repeatedly hit the lock button. I push the key into the ignition of my older model Impala, and the damn thing stalls, making my chest tighten. I finally get it started up and drive towards the Super Center parking lot downtown. The parking lot is deserted except for a few semi trucks littered in different corners of the lot. I find a spot near the back but under a street lamp and in direct view of a security camera, before parking the car and shutting the engine off.
Looking around, there is no one in sight, and I start to breathe a little easier. I take out my blackout car window screens and adhere them to each window, effectively blocking anyone's view into my vehicle. After making sure the doors are locked, I crawl back to the back seat, pulling the seat down to grab my blankets and pillows out of the trunk. I set up my makeshift bed on top of the folded-out back seat with my legs lying in the trunk of the car. It is far from the most comfortable bed ever, but it beats sleeping on the ground any day. Before I settle in for the night, I check the time on my phone; it's only 10 p.m., so I decide to call the tenant to schedule a meeting to discuss renting with him. On the third ring he finally answers, his deep voice coming through the line, wrapping me in a weird warmth I’ve never felt before.
“Hello?” He questions through the line, and all of a sudden I can’t speak. “Hello? Who’s there?” His voice is impatient, which pulls me back to the present as I rush to answer him.
“Uh, yeah, h-hi.” I stutter out, anxiety coursing through me. “My name is Sloane, and I’m inquiring about your ad looking for a new roommate?” The other side of the line is quiet for so long that I fear he has hung up on me. “Hello? Are you still there?” I ask with a hint of desperation in my voice.
“Yeah, I’m still here. You do realize that you’d be living with a man, right?” He speaks as if he's talking to a toddler.
“Obviously I do.” I say with a roll of my eyes.
“Okay, then… Do you want to meet this week for coffee to discuss the logistics?” His tone sounds uninterested, like he’d rather be doing anything else but talking to me.
“Yes, I would love that! Are you available tomorrow morning?” I answer with enough enthusiasm for the both of us.
“I can do 9am at The Ravage Café if that works for you? Do you know where that is?”
I chuckle under my breath before replying, “Yes, that works perfectly, and yes, I am very familiar with it. I’ll see you there tomorrow.” We say our goodbyes and hang up. I laugh to myself because how did I get so lucky to not even have to take off work to do this? I work with Cass again tomorrow, so I know she won’t mind if I step away for a bit to discuss this new living situation. I doubt she will be less than thrilled to see that it’s a man that I’m meeting, but I’m desperate to not sleep in my car anymore. I plug my phone into the portable charger next to me, making sure my morning alarm is set before pulling the blanket up and over my head to settle in for the night.
The past few months have been a whirlwind of ups and downs. A tortuous rollercoaster of emotions to navigate. The loss of my roommate, Bailey, has hit me harder than I expected it to. She was such a huge part of my life, and since she’s been gone, everything has felt so…empty.We always watched movies late into the weekend while eating buttered popcorn and her favorite, peach rings. When her family came to get her things a few weeks ago, it was like they were ripping the memory of her out of my chest. My best friend is gone… butnever forgotten. She was the light in my dark life, even if she didn’t fully return my feelings.
Eventually, I figured it was time to get a new roommate. The apartment is too quiet and lonely for my liking. A normal person would get just a cat or a dog, but they are not nearly as fun as a human is. I desire the sound of someone's voice, the smell of their unique scent wafting throughout the apartment. The warmness that another body brings into a soulless home. I put up an ad in the local coffee shop hoping that someone would call about it. Honestly, I didn’t care who it was; I just wanted companionship withsomebody.After a few weeks, my phone rang at an ungodly time of night. I almost ignored it, but a part of me told me to answer it anyway. And I’m so glad that I answered the call.
The most melodic voice rang out from the other end of the line; it stunned me into silence. It was almost like the feeling an emotional song gives you. You know that feeling deep in your stomach when waves crash against rocks on the beach and goosebumps cover your skin? Yeah, that’s the feeling. Her voice was soft and tender, and what I would give for her to moan my name in that delicious tone. Her name, Sloane, rolls off my tongue like the sweetest sin. She seemed unsure of herself at first, almost like she’s never lived with anyone else before. I made sure to ask her if she understood that she’d be living with a grown man, and she didn’t back down from the challenge. We agreed to meet at a local coffee shop that I’ve heard good things about. I don’t go to coffee shops much, because who wants to spend almost $10 on a fucking cup of coffee? Ridiculous if you ask me.
Strolling through the door of The Ravage Café fifteen minutes before 9am, the bell on the door dings, alerting all the patrons to my entrance. I’m giddy with anticipation about meeting the woman behind the voice that I haven’t been able tostop thinking about. A few people stand in line at the counter, ordering their overpriced cup of joe. When it’s my turn, my eyes meet the warm chocolate brown eyes of the woman behind the counter. Her soft brunette hair falls in waves around her, lightly swishing with the movement of her fingers as she picks up a Sharpie and a foam cup. She doesn’t speak, just looks up at me expectantly, waiting for my order.
“Coffee. Black.” Two simple words are all she gets out of me. She writes them swiftly on the cup and passes it to the woman behind her to fill it. The total on the debit machine reads $8.50, and I balk at the price. All that money for a plain black coffee? What the actual fuck. I push my card into the reader and wait for the annoying ding to tell me to remove it. By the time she hands me my receipt, the other woman is pushing the coffee into my hands. I don’t bother saying thank you before I stroll away towards an empty table in the back corner. Taking the seat by the wall puts me in the perfect position to view who is coming and going from the café.
I stare at the door every time it dings to announce someone's arrival or departure, but none of them spare anyone else the time of day. They simply waltz right up to the counter, place their order, grab it, and leave. I sip my coffee, glancing down at my watch, noticing that it is just now 9am. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and when I pull it out,Unknown Callerflashes on the screen. “Hello?” I speak into the receiver, anticipating my Sweet Muse’s voice to ring out on the other side.
“Hi, it’s me. I’m here; are you here already?” Even as she speaks in a rush, her voice gives me chills down to my toes that curl inside of my brown leather oxfords.
“Yes, I’ve been here for a little bit. I’m seated in the far back corner towards the front of the store.” I direct her to where I’m seated, and her panicked voice rings through the other end.
