I’m jerked awake by the monsters that have a chokehold on my subconscious, panting as if I’ve been crawling through the hot desert sand for three long weeks. My room is dimly lit by the fluorescent beams coming from the lone, eerie streetlamp in our circle. I use the ratty old t-shirt I chose as a nightgown to wipe the sweat running from my brows and realize my sheets are soaked, certainly refreshing what is the musty, tattered mattress I have been sleeping on since I was twelve. I roll to my side, supporting my weight on my elbow, and take a few gulps of the water I so graciously planted for myself in anticipation of another night like this. It’s cool from sitting on the cold oak floor and I find myself wishing my mattress would show me that kind of grace. The night terrors began when I was a child. They began when the laws started “tightening up,” and they took me off birth control. I needed it to regulate my ever-destructive, unbalanced hormones that allowed cystic acne to take over my porcelain complexion, and cysts of another kind to allow me many, many sick days from school and many, many sleepless nights. My hair follicles erect, partially from the cool liquid making me hyper aware of every inch of my esophagus and partially from recollection. Per usual, I probably won’t get any more sleep tonight.

After a couple of hours spent tossing and turning, I drag myself out of bed to get ready for my first big day of college. I stare at the boney girl before me. “I have let myself go a tad,” I mumble as I lightly trace over the crests that barely hold up my skinny jeans with my index finger. I wander over to the closet that holds the few articles of clothing I own. I had to make do with what I could after my dad checked out. This consists mostly of jeans that vary in sizes, and band t shirts most mothers would have already cut into rags, but I haven’t had a mother in years, so I was never forced to grow out of what my parents always called “a phase.” It is very convenient to not have to pick out your clothes, just a new shirt, new jeans (if yesterdays had already been repurposed) and cross my fingers that I could find a fresh pair of socks in the danger zone that is the laundry room. A Kiss shirt that was probably twice my age and a pair of my finest acid washed skinny jeans make the cut. Being early fall, the morning air will bite, so I throw on my black and white checkered flannel that has been washed so many times it barely serves its purpose. I pull on my blood red chucks to add a little flair to my dreary look. I wander back over to the mirror to take one last look and attempt to make my unruly curls seem like I put the tinniest bit of effort into my appearance. Although my acne has cleared up, I still wear sadness in every line appearing on my tired face.

I slump down the stairs to find my father passed out on the couch cuddled up to his soulmate, Jack. Mr. Daniels has had a tight grip on my father’s throat ever since we lost my mom, Norma, to the virus that lessened the population by two thirds. I haven’t seen my father smile since I was a child. Since she was here. Although I miss her more than one would miss a limb, I find peace in the fact she didn’t suffer like many others who had caught Guiness19. Like most mornings, the news is flashing the local headlines, providing enough light for me to make my way to the kitchen and leave the drunkard undisturbed. The scrolling headline, reserved for important news breaks, reads: “HOMICIDE: YET ANOTHER VICTIM CLAIMED. BOTH VICTIMS FOUND WITH HEART NO LONGER INTACT LEADING LAW ENFORCEMENT TO BELIEVE THIS IS A SERIAL SITUATION. STAY TUNED FOR MORE COVERAGE.” I butter my toast and sling my heavy pack over my shoulder as I quietly sneak out the door to wait for Lilly to come pick me up for our first day of classes at the local college. Buckshire University. Home of the, you guessed it, Bucks.

The morning air stabs straight through the flannel, piercing into my skin like some medieval torture device. If I go to hell, the devil will go unsatisfied attempting to torture me with fire. Torturing me with cold would certainly be rewarding though. Luckily, I only wait five minutes before I hear that familiar rattle approaching my tiny, broken-down home that needed its olive-colored paint touched up a decade ago. I nearly run to the vehicle, dodging the third step that has been broken since my father’s first drunken tumble down them.

“GOODMORNING PRINCESS!” Lilly is far too excited for our first day.

“Hello Sunshine,” I give back to her in a much milder tone, although she does provoke a smile far easier than 98% of the population. She has made us a playlist to listen to that will supposedly “hype us up” for our first day of college. Although it doesn’t contain any music that suits my taste, I still pretend to vibe with her as to not bring her level of happiness down. Lilly lights up a room like the first ray of sun that breaks the night. She could make the Grinch smile. She once caused a mime to break character by making him laugh. She is an absolute gem and really the only good thing in my life. Lilly has an endless number of friends. It’s been this way since we were small. I don’t why she chose the most backward, goofiest looking kid to be friends with in our kindergarten class when she could’ve had pick of the litter, but I’m thankful she chose me because I probably wouldn’t be here without her.

“I hope you have thee best day today! What is your first class?” she asks as she whips the bug into a tight space in the parking garage.

“I don’t know why I would inflict this kind of pain on myself, but I have Calculus at 9:15,” I say as I look at the campus map and try to figure out where I need to be in less than 10 minutes. “What about you?” I ask as we step out onto the damp concrete. I take a long drag of my mango flavored elf bar and toss it on the seat before shutting the car door.

“Did you lock that?”

“No Lillith. I forgot after I have been manually locking this car door for the last two years.”

“Dick! I love you! Meet me in the cafeteria at noon!”

“Love you most,” I mumble back as she skips off in the direction of the theatre building. That girl will be a star someday.

Calculus, then biology, and then a sociology lecture. All grueling, but I am halfway excited to be here. Being here means spreading my wings. It means finally getting out. It felt like the reality tv show that had been my life was finally canceled and taken off air to be replaced by a new revamped series. A cool breeze dances on my skin as I walk to the cafeteria. It has warmed up enough for me to take off my flannel, so it’s tied around my waist. The walk doesn’t seem long enough before I’m standing in front of “The Den” which is the building that holds a three-story gym, a small coffee shop, and the cafeteria which you have to climb three flights of stairs to get to. I guess they want you to work off a little before eating. As soon as I enter the big doors, I spot Lilly waiting for me at the top of the stairs, chatting it up with a tall jock, throwing her head back when she laughs even though I am so sure his joke wasn’t funny.

“El! Hurry up! I want you to meet my new friend, Louie!” I walk a hopefully noticeable slower speed on purpose. Partly to mess with her, and partly because I have no real interest in meeting Louie.

“Whaddup! El is it?” The tall, admittedly handsome, jock says as I reach the top of the stairs. He throws his hand up in the air, expecting a high five and for me to succumb to becoming his “bro”.

“Elliot actually,” I shoot back as my hands remain firmly gripping the straps of my backpack.

“She’s nice I promise,” Lilly reassures as she takes off toward the long line of hungry hyenas.

I make it through the lunch line with only a cup of green Jello that has tiny pineapple chunks mixed in. My grandma and I always ate them when I was a child, so it was comforting to spot them amongst the slop they label as “healthy choices.” I find myself daydreaming of better days, days when my mom and grandma were still with me, as I follow closely behind Lilly and Louie and pray that they find a table soon. Just as we approach the sole empty table in the booming cafeteria, I am cut off by some douche bag with blond hair who, without hesitation, offers up that high five Louie had been longing for. Of course, Lilly’s flirtatious tendencies would land me in what is sure to be the most uncomfortable lunch I have willingly attended in quite some time. I am typically one to avoid crowds, but being the best friend of a socialite was making that more and more impossible.

“Who is this pretty little thing?” He towers over me, making me feel much smaller than I am aware I am, and must be five times my size. His biceps appear as if he would have to have his t-shirts specially tailored to not risk effecting his circulation. He stares at me with heart wrenchingly, though seemingly dead, blue eyes awaiting my response.

“Elliot.”

“Mmmm Elliot. I like that,” he says back to me in what is surely meant to be a seductive voice but pierces my ears more like that of a shrill witch.

“Well thank God. I was hoping for your gracious approval,” I hiss back as I cross my arms. He jerks the green Jell-O out of my hands and looks as though he would enjoy nothing more than to snap my neck. I can’t help but cower even though I am the one who chose hostility.

“Bitch,” he spits.

“Leave her the hell alone Bryson,” I hear a girl say from a few tables away. Like a scene from a cheesy rom com, everything seems to come to a standstill. All the noise stops like the cafeteria playlist has been paused. A goddess of a girl, tall with flowing, jet-black hair, perfect skin splattered with tiny brown freckles, and chocolatey brown eyes the size of the moon is coming to my rescue. I’m in awe of her beauty and find that I allowed my jaw to drop and am actively gawking at her, lingering on her plump, perfectly pink lips for a second too long. Even though she was wearing loose athletic clothing, you could tell her body was defined by Webster himself. I ponder what her diet must consist of considering her physique. Surely nothing made in this kitchen.  

“Mind your business, Audrey!” He flips her off with the hand that isn’t crushing my lunch. “Audrey,” I repeat in my head. My body nearly turns to liquid when she winks at me. I knew any attempt I made to listen to my lectures for the remainder of the day would be a waste because she was certain to rule over my thoughts.

***

As soon as we get back to Lilly’s house, she begins deciding what kind of opening week shenanigans we’re going to take part in this evening. She names an extensive list of frat parties, local pubs hosting events, and small gatherings she had been invited to. Of course I didn’t receive any myself, but Lilly insists that invitations always include a plus one. I don’t enjoy socializing with the general public, but I keep my suggestion of staying home to myself. After a long debate with herself, she decides on karaoke at the local pub, Gibby’s. Gibby’s is a small hole in the wall bar that all the college athletes hang out at on the weekend. I don’t tell her how far down on my list this choice was as I have no desire to see Bryson or his pack of wolves that will surely be drooling all over the fresh meat. The only reason I am even agreeing to go is because there’s a good chance Audrey will be there. Hopefully, Lilly will lend me something to wear so I don’t look so out of place in my worn-out jeans and holey tee.

“Oh yassss queeeeeen!” Lilly applauds as I step out of the bathroom in the skintight, black velvet dress she insisted I try on.

“Oh nooooo ma’am,” I insist as I wriggle around in it attempting to hide my stature that resembles that of a 12 year old boy. “This is not flattering at all. Do you have anything else?”

“El, come on! You look hot! Audrey might be there,” she says with a wink. A sly grin stretches across her face, revealing her perfect dimples and letting me know she saw the awe on my face in the cafeteria today.

“Shut up Lilly. She probably didn’t even notice me. She just saw me as a damsel in the tight grips of Grendel.”

“Yeah right! She wouldn’t cause a scene for just anyone! She must have had her eye on you!”

“No one has their eyes on me Lil,” I say as I smooth out the dress. I have to be pushing the top of the list of most insecure people to ever exist. Lilly has always been the pretty one, and she’s always trying to force me out of my comfort zone, but she has curves like a winding back road, an “hourglass figure,” as they say.

“That’s ridiculous! You’re gorgeous,” she reassures me as she pulls my monstrous curls away from my shoulders, revealing my protruding collar bones. Although I long to sit in silence at this point, she rambles on about how cute this guy was or that guy was and, “oh Louie,” until she’s finished getting ready. I sit on the edge of her bed, adjusting myself every thirty seconds in an attempt to find a comfortable way to sit in this dress as she finishes up her night look.

When we get to Gibby’s there’s a line out the door. I regret not putting my flannel on over this skimpy dress as goose bumps begin to take over my skin. We stand in line with 15 other giddy freshmen, all eager to get inside and join the fun. I wonder if I am the only one lacking interest. Lilly is yelling into her phone while Louie is trying to find us but is having no luck considering we’re still three people away from getting in. We finally reach the bouncer and Lilly gets in without question, but when I step up my ID gets checked, double checked, and rechecked to ensure that I am of age.

The inside of Gibby’s is dark having only a strip of LED lights that line the liquor bottles, and a green, fluorescent light that burns from the juke box, which is blaring 90s country. The smell reminds me of my dad as stagnant alcohol and body odor takes over my nostrils. Louie has found us and hands us both a drink, leaning into Lilly to say something which I can’t hear over the roar of the crowd. Suddenly, I feel hands so large they could surely split a phone book with no problem grip my waist. I swallow the large knot forming in my throat as I turn to see who is violating my space.

“Hey baby girl,” Bryson says to me. The smell of vodka from his hot breath is nearly enough to intoxicate me and causes my stomach to host a gymnastics event.

“Don’t touch me,” I say as I attempt to assure him his hands do not belong on me, but his grip tightens.

“Come on baby. I promise I’ll show you a good time,” he says as he leans into me losing his balance and nearly sending us both to the floor before Louie grabs his arms and saves me from being crushed under the linebacker. I shove him with all my might, which barely moves him away from me.

“What did I tell you Bryson?” Her voice elevates my heart rate.

“I’m just trying to have some fun Audrey,” Bryson says as he throws his arm around me.

“I can assure you she doesn’t want any part in it,” shock ripples through my body as she pulls me over to her and away from him. Being only a couple of inches taller than me, I fit perfectly under her arm in the crevasse between her hip and pit. “I think she’s made that pretty clear,” he huffs, and his eyes nearly roll out of his head, then turns to find another victim.

She pulls me in, allowing me to feel the firm body that is concealed by a black Nike sweatsuit, and she asks if I’m okay. I find myself unable to speak as she looks into my soul with those doe eyes. My insides are trembling. “Thank you,” I manage to squeak.

“Audrey,” she says as she releases me and holds out her hand. I feel like I’ve just been introduced to the love of my life. I haven’t ever had this level of emotion overwhelm me, and coming from someone who has a constant river of emotions flowing over them, that’s saying a lot.

“Elliot,” I shake her hand, but then she doesn’t let go of mine. Instead, she asks me to join her for a drink.

Nervousness snakes through my body, coiling around my stomach as she leads me by the hand over to her table. She introduces me to the group I recognize as the soccer team from the cafeteria as she takes her seat, the only seat available, leading me to believe I’ll be standing. My breath hitches as I’m caught by the surprise of her pulling me onto her lap. She lets go of my hand and settles hers on my thigh that I realize is barely covered by the skimpy dress I was forced to wear. Her other hand is wrapped around my back and resting on my hip. I am now taller than her, and she begins asking me about myself as I get lost again in those mesmerizing eyes. Random players from the team keep handing me vodka seltzers and I start to feel the temperature rising in my cheeks. They’re causing me to begin to wobble about on Aubrey’s leg. It seems she has run out of questions, but I find myself unable to break the chain from my eyes to her sweet face. She leans toward me as she gently brushes my hair back and I nearly faint when it crosses my mind that she’s going to kiss me, but she bypasses my lips and whispers in my ear, “would you like to get out of here?” I’m not typically the type to throw myself at a stranger, but the vodka has loosened my judgement, and I’m excitedly following her out the door. I lock eyes with Lilly on our way out, who shoots me a double thumbs up of approval.

The leather seats of her Audi are cold on my bare thighs and the only part of them not aching is the top of my left thigh where her hand rests. She turns on the seat warmer for me which takes me to a much happier place. Soft music fills the cab as we zip up a back road that I am not familiar with. It doesn’t seem to lead anywhere as we only pass trees whose leaves have turned golden in the crisp fall air. We turn right down a narrow road, and I’m too shy to ask Audrey where she’s taking me. It’s not long before the question is answered as we pull into a small opening in the trees that overlooks the small town.

“It’s beautiful,” I say softly from the passenger seat. “Do you bring all your victims here?” I joke as I let out an embarrassing giggle.

“You’re funny,” she says as an almost worry-causing grin slimes its way across her face. She leans into the back seat and hands me a maroon “Bucks” hoodie. “You’ll probably want this,” she says as she gets out of the car. I’m not hugely excited to be freezing in the middle of the woods, but I decide to make an exception for the goddess and follow her out of the car.

Aubrey lays a fluffy blue blanket across the hood and puts two small pillows on the window. I didn’t think it was possible for my nerves be any more intense, but knowing she was prepared for this in advance causes just that. I climb up onto the hood while she rummages around in her trunk. She reappears with a small cooler and joins me on the hood. She leans over to me, and this time I know it’s not to whisper in my ear. Her soft, pillowy lips meet mine and I instantly become a puddle. My heart beats against my rib cage as if it were a madman trying to break down a locked door, and my chest ignites as a bolt of emotionally charged electricity surges through my veins, all the way down to my toes and back. Her hand moves from my neck to the small of my back, and the gentle pressure being applied cues me to move to her lap. Our lips are still infused when I swing my leg overtop her, forgetting that I’m wearing the smallest piece of material ever considered to be a dress. The cold breeze aggressively tickles my bare bum sending me back to my side of the hood. I add “wearing a thong under a skimpy dress,” to the mental list of choices I hope to avoid in the future.

“Is everything okay?” her brow furrowed with concern.

“Yes, more than okay. I just forgot I was wearing this ridiculous dress.”

“Ridiculous? Considering you had me in there looking like that drooling idiot, Bryson, I almost couldn’t bring myself to choose you. You look so tasty though.” My cheeks become ablaze with a heat so intense I can feel it in my eyes, and that same spine-chilling smile is once again painted across her face. I almost get hung up on the “tasty” comment, but instead my thoughts catch on her saying she considered, “not choosing me.” I wonder what she means by that.

            “Would you like something to drink? I also have a little sandwich we could share if you’re hungry,” although I’m not I take the half she offers me reminding myself it would probably be a good idea to soak up some of the liquor sloshing around in my tummy. It’s pitch black out here aside from the soft glow of the city lights down over the hill, so I can’t tell what kind of sandwich it is, but I’m not in the place to be picky. I just hope I get to see if it tastes the same in her mouth when we finish it. I take a few gulps from the blue Gatorade she handed me, thankful to get some electrolytes in which should help with the hangover I am sure I will have in the morning. I smell the sandwich, as I do most of my food before I eat it, and it smells like it might be pastrami, with aromatic spices yet a lingering earthiness. I take a bite, but I can’t put my finger on what exactly it is, so I take another bite, bigger this time. It’s rich and savory with a subtle sweetness.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s interesting. I can’t place the meat.”

“It’s an old family recipe. I made it from the heart,” she says, her devious smile growing by the minute. I take another sip of the Gatorade to wash it down. “My grandfather taught me how to harvest it. I place it in the meat grinder with a special blend of herbs and spices that compliment the natural sweetness, which he told me comes from the love.”

“Grandparents are always claiming the secret ingredient is love. What kind of meat is this? It has a distinctive taste, but I just can’t figure it out.”

“I told you Elliot. I made it from the heart,” she says as she leans in and plants a smooch right on my bread covered lips. When she pulls away, I can see that her grin has not faded, and my emotions suddenly begin to morph into fear. Surely, she doesn’t mean an actual heart.

I take another big drink of the Gatorade to wash my mouth out and ask a question I never dreamed would leave my lips. “Audrey.. You don’t mean an actual heart, right?” She climbs down off the car and makes her way back to her Mary Poppins trunk, this time reappearing with some rope and a roll of duct tape. I roll off the side of the hood and begin to lose the contents of my stomach. My original plan when rolling off was to get to my feet and run, but fearing what I had just consumed was once beating in someone’s chest, delicately placed between two slices of rye bread, caused my body to have a different plan. When I am done throwing up, my head starts pounding as if a drum line is practicing in my temporal lobe. The world begins to make laps around us and I realize the Gatorade was not my saving grace after all. I stumble backwards but am caught by what I once considered a sweet embrace. My head falls back, and I am met by those big brown eyes again. This time, they seem soulless and cold.

            Using her hand that isn’t supporting me, she brushes away a curl that lays across my face, “sweet Elliot. I brought you here in hopes that you would share your heart with me after I shared mine with you,” she gently places a piece of duct tape across my mouth, tracing the lines of my lips from over top it. “At first, I wasn’t sure I wanted to steal your heart. I even thought you’d make for a good Queen of Darkness. Share in this with me, but seeing as you just released all the contents of your stomach, there’s a hitch in that plan, so now I’m contemplating what bread and toppings will pair best with you,” As my eyes go shut, and my entire body goes limp in her arms, she whispers to me “Don’t worry darling, I’ll make sure everyone knows just how big your heart was.”