Reminiscing

A cold wind greeted me as soon as my sneakers hit the pavement, and the water pelted against my face. The song I was listening to transitioned into another.

Currently playing – Ghost by Justin Bieber

Every song I had heard so far today was about life and death. I was on a roll. I walked up to the front of my apartment complex and went inside the building. Not wanting to revel in the thought of people dying like the song suggested, I paused the music and took out my AirPods only to be met with deafening silence.

I tapped the “up” button next to the elevator and waited. Finally, a ding arose and broke the maddening silence. The elevator doors opened slowly as if they had all the time in the world. Stepping inside, I pressed the 6 and leaned against the back wall. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply and let my shoulders sag. I glanced up and saw the numbers begin climbing.

3. Click. 4. Click. 5. Click.

This elevator needs to be updated…badly.

Maybe I”d get stuck one day, and then I could sue the building. With all that lawsuit money, I’d be able to afford a house.

Spoken like a true Gen Z’er.

After what felt like hours, the elevator finally reached my floor. I kicked off the back wall to give myself a boost, but the sudden movement seemed to kick start my bladder and made me realize that I needed to pee. I was in such a rush to leave work that I forgot to use the bathroom…I literally had forgotten to pee.

“Idiot,” I murmured to myself.

I quickened my pace to the apartment and grabbed my keys, jamming them into the door. As I frantically twisted the doorknob, I crossed my legs trying to rid myself of any water-related thoughts. When I walked inside, I was immediately greeted with a clock staring back at me. My eyes widened as I saw the time change from 8:09 a.m. to 8:10 a.m.

Fuck, I’m going to be late.

I dashed into my bedroom and shimmed out of my scrubs. I ran around like a madman for a solid five minutes, flinging clothes and packing last-minute items. A surge of adrenaline hit me. I quickly transferred some of the smaller things from my purse into a large shoulder bag to use as my carry-on. Reaching for the suitcase tucked at the edge of my bed, I rolled it out into the living room while doing a brief checklist to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything.

ID? Check.

Plane ticket? Check.

Extra clothes? Check.

Toiletries? Check.

Headphones? Check.

Phone? Check.

Charger? Check.

Cash? Check.

Will to live? To be determined…

Making my way out the door, I walked back onto the elevator and down to the first floor. I tried to focus on the fact that I was going to be back here, at my apartment, in just two days—only two days of torture…I could handle that.

When I stepped outside, somehow, it seemed to be raining even harder. There was no time to turn back around and grab an umbrella, so I held my hand above my face to shield myself from being pelted in the eyes. I didn’t mind it, though. To me, the rain was always less of an inconvenience and more a welcome surprise. Less people out and about, a nice bit of ASMR, washing away all the stupid pollen, watering dehydrated flowers…what’s not to like about rain? I made my way to the edge of the sidewalk, heaving my suitcase behind me with one hand as I ushered the other up to the sky in an attempt to hail a taxi. Somehow, as if on cue, a huge bolt of lightning came down from the clouds.

“Abra Kadabra?” I mumbled, slightly confused. A taxi nearby pulled over and waved at me to get in. I stood dumbfounded, still confused as to whether or not I had awakened my wizardry powers. Maybe my letter to Hogwarts was being mailed out at this exact moment. It was the sound of incessant honking that tore me from my thoughts as I ripped open the taxi door and said, “JFK and step on it!”

The driver mumbled something under his breath as he floored the car, causing my head to ricochet and hit the headrest.

I bet he did that on purpose.

I rolled my eyes and huffed out a loud sigh while directing my gaze at the phone in my hands. I sent my mom a text letting her know I was on the way to the airport before tucking my phone back into my pocket.

***

Traffic sucked. After what should have been a twenty-five-minute car ride, we arrived at the airport forty-five minutes later. The roads were always crazy when it was stormed in New York. I hopped out of the taxi, grabbed my suitcase, and started toward the entrance while trying to avoid the large puddles on the ground that had begun to form. Stopping midway, I spun back around and dashed to the taxi.

“Wait!”

I almost forgot my bag.

Good thing the driver hadn’t pulled off.

“What the…?” he mumbled, clearly annoyed.

“Sorry!” I picked my bag up off the seat. “Thanks!”

Slamming the door of the taxi once again, I scurried inside the airport. By now, the rain had become a downpour, completely drenching my clothes within the fifteen seconds it took to get to the main entrance.

“Oh, great,” I muttered while looking down at my sweater, soaked with freezing water.

Guess I’m turning into one of those people who complain about the rain.

That just proved how annoyed I was. The squeaking of my shoes echoed in my ears as I sped over to the check-in counter. That’s when I realized again, I still hadn’t peed. I tapped my foot anxiously while waiting in line. When I took in my surroundings, I noticed everyone’s eyes fixed on the TV. Every single screen was broadcasting the news.

“The downpour is suspected to go on for several more hours and a flash flood warning is in effect for Southern New York. We urge everyone to stay inside so that you can avoid risking—”

“Next!” An older lady shouted as she handed out boarding passes.

I moved up in line as I lugged my suitcase behind me. The squeaking of my damp shoes caused me to wince. I hated that noise.

Okay, fuck this weather.

I wouldn’t say that I was trying to manifest anything, but if the weather were to delay my flight, then maybe missing my father”s funeral wouldn”t be so bad…I mean, it wasn’t like he ever played a significant role in my life, anyway. We lived in the same damn house for twelve years, yet I felt like I barely knew him. How fucked up was that?

The sound of the roaring thunder interrupted my thoughts once again. The line was moving relatively quickly as I got my boarding pass and handed them my suitcase. I pushed forward and made my way through TSA to screen my carry-on. After I had made it through each checkpoint, I glanced down at my phone and saw that it was 9:23 a.m.

Finally. Time to rest.

Walking over to my gate, I plopped down one of the available seats and waited for boarding to begin. I could relax, just so long as no one bothered me. Once again, as if on cue, my phone buzzed, causing me to jump at the sudden sensation. I dug the phone out of my pocket and flipped it over.

It was my mom.

Of course, she would call as soon as I sat down.

“Am I using my powers for good or evil?” I softly sighed as I answered her call.

“Hey, sweetie. Are you at the airport?”

“Yeah, Mom, I made it. I’m just waiting at the gate for boarding to start.” I yawned at the overwhelming sensation of exhaustion that inexplicably washed over me.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure because I heard it was raining cats and dogs over there!”

I laughed slightly. “You know no one says that anymore, right?”

“Hey! I say it…and I’m someone!” She exclaimed.

“Yeah, I think that California weather is really going to your head…”

“It’s actually very beautiful up here. I can see why your dad liked it,” she trailed off.

“Yeah, he liked it so much he decided to move halfway across the country where he didn”t have to feel guilty if he ever saw us at the grocery store.”

“Autumn,” my mom began as I cut her off.

“It’s fine; I’m fine.” I wasn’t fine…but that was how the illusory truth effect worked—if you told yourself something over and over again, you’d eventually begin to believe it.

“I know this is hard for you, but going to your father”s funeral is the right thing to do.”

“I know, that”s why I’m going,” I frowned. That’s the only reason I was going. “Anyway,” I started, “I’m going to go grab something to eat from someplace nearby before the flight takes off. Airplane food is way too fucking expensive.” Pushing myself up from the seat, I reached down and grabbed my bag.

“Okay, sweetie. Stay safe. I love you.” I could practically hear the sad smile on her face.

“I love you too.”

“I’ll see you soon,” she ended.

That”swhat worried me. Not seeing her, but seeing him.

Quickly shaking off the thought, I made my way to the nearest deli. I walked along the aisles as I looked for something appetizing. Honestly, even though my stomach was growling, I wasn’t really in the mood to eat anything, but you know…surviving requires you to eat, so I guess I had to.

Yay me.

While browsing for food, I also picked up a bottle of water, which just so happened to be the infamous and trendy water that was taking Pinterest by storm—Smart Water. Don’t get the wrong idea, though. I wasn’t one of those “crazy people” who only liked boujee water. It was just the only option the deli had. Speaking of “crazy people,” as I walked up to the front to check out, I saw a group of maybe twenty strangers screaming while running right past the store. Squinting my eyes, I whipped my head toward the direction they had just come from and felt the sudden urge to start sprinting as well. Was a chainsaw-wielding murderer chasing them? Did they just witness a plane crash? Was the building flooding? Just as I was about to give Usain Bolt a “run” for his money, I noticed that everyone else seemed pretty calm. So, no danger, I guess? Just people being crazy. Maybe I just manifested them into existence with all my thoughts about weirdos.

Three for three. Hogwarts, I’ll be waiting patiently.

I paid for my lunch and silently pleaded that those people weren’t on my flight. After grabbing my receipt, I made my way back to the gate and sat down. I sighed in an attempt to relieve the stress that was building up inside as I looked down at my sad excuse for a meal—a ham sandwich and a bag of chips. Thankfully, those people weren”t around, but wherever they were, I could still hear their shrill screams in the distance. To get as much peace and quiet as I could before my flight, I put my AirPods in for the second time that day. This time, I had a song in mind.

Currently playing – Love In Los Angeles by Lexi Harlow

It seemed fitting since I was going to California. As I unwrapped my sandwich, I slowly let the music carry me away. It would be my first time in California, but it wasn’t for the vacation of a lifetime; it was for a funeral. Most people associated California with dreams coming true or finding love, but this trip was definitely not about fulfilling my long-lost dream or finding my soul mate. Hell, I mean, at this point in time, I didn’t even believe that love existed at all. That”s not to say that I hadn”t believed in romance in the past, though. Over the last few years, I had my fair share of relationships.

First, there was Adam. He was the cliche guy that most girls don”t expect to fall for. You know how the story goes. You start off as friends, then you turn into best friends, and from there, things keep going. Adam was the person I’d talk to on the phone at night about stupid shit like the latest celebrity gossip or gossip or whether a tomato was a fruit or vegetable. Then, slowly, after overlooking the person who was right in front of me, the time came when I finally opened my eyes and realized that I was crushing on Adam. It wasn’t until a year into our friendship that I ever thought about him in that way, but as soon as I thought about it, I couldn’t stop. No, he wasn”t the most obviously attractive, but when you fall for someone, they immediately become a ten out of ten. It all started when we met in 9th grade. Adam was the new kid, and some of the jocks were bullying him. One of the popular boys called Adam “gay,” and soon a lot of others followed suit. I vividly remember bolting up from my chair and yelling for everyone to shut the fuck up, or else I’d start rumors about them all having small dicks. Adam laughed, and surprisingly, so did the jocks, even though you could tell they were still trying to process what I had just said. After class, Adam thanked me, and our relationship grew from there. Eventually, we started dating, but then something in our relationship started to change. Adam started doing track, and his circle of friends grew, causing him to become popular. Despite our differences in social standing, we continued to force our relationship to work. One night, we sat on the bench outside his house and talked for hours. His parents were at a dinner party, so he ran inside and grabbed a bottle of their vodka. We sat on the porch until midnight, drinking and just talking to each other. That”s when he confessed that he thought he was gay, or at least bisexual. I couldn’t say that I didn”t suspect anything, but it still felt like I was being smacked in the face and stabbed in the chest when I heard those words escape his lips. That’s when I realized it wouldn’t be fair to stay with someone who still needed to figure out who they were…so we broke up. He deserved to find love no matter who it was with. I never stopped supporting him, but as time went on, so did what remained of our friendship. I truly believe he was my first love, though.

Then there was Daniel. He was the complete opposite of Adam. We met in college during a time when I just wanted to have fun and date a “bad boy.” He was the rebel that every girl thought they could somehow change. He was the one who egged the professors on and always had to get the last word in. Daniel even had a motorcycle—a fucking motorcycle. In your freshman year of college, that’s enough to make any girl drop her panties. There may have also been a slight chance that Daniel sold “special snacks” to students, and I may or may not have been one of those students. Later in the school year, I stopped by his house to buy a “special snack,” and we ended up sitting on the couch talking about his motorcycle. I was so infatuated with Daniel in a way that I had never been with anyone else before. As we were talking, Daniel surprised me by pulling me close and eagerly pressing his lips against mine. With Adam, our kisses were tender and light, but with Daniel, there was passion and desire. The thing about Daniel, though, is that he wasn”t just a bad boy; he was actually a bad person. He was a spitting image of my own father, and he only cared about his image. He even tried to gaslight me into thinking I was the reason for all of his mistakes and shortcomings. Daniel flunked his math final? He’d claim it was my fault for hanging around all the time and distracting him from his studies. Daniel wanted to have sex, and I didn’t? He’d call me a prude. Daniel didn”t have enough money to buy his dream car? He’d blame me for wanting to go out on expensive dates. In Daniel”s world, he was the star of the show, and no one else mattered. Four months into dating, he made the biggest mistake of all. Daniel tried one of his many attempts to get me into bed with him, and I wasn”t having it. After my third “No.” he lost it and said that if I didn”t satisfy his “needs,” he was going to go find someone else who would. That was the last straw. I told him that I would agree to sleep with him if he could name one part of the female anatomy besides the vagina, ass, or boobs. He failed miserably after asking, “Isn”t that all there is?” That’s when I realized that there was no way he would make me orgasm so having sex with him would’ve been pointless on my side. I told him he could sleep with whoever he wanted to because we were done. Daniel became red in the face and threw a temper tantrum like a three-year-old as he shouted, “Fine! I’ll find someone better than you to come over within the hour!” To which I replied, “Just because we’ve never had sex doesn”t mean I haven’t seen your dick.” I looked him up and down, then continued, “With your size and your knowledge of female anatomy, you will fail miserably at pleasing a woman, so do yourself a favor—save us all the embarrassment and go jerk off into a sock.”

I never slept with him despite his persistence, and I didn’t regret that choice for a second. I guess that story wasn”t one of true love; it was one of pain and loneliness. Maybe there was no happy ending in my future.

But hey, on the bright side I had enough one-liners to burn anyone who crossed me to the ground.