Mean Streaks – A Collected Imprints Story

Artwork By: Helena Santana

Author’s Note

Blurb

Esha Pines grapples with an abusive partner and her past.

Spice Level

2/5: slight open door, vague descriptions

Content Warnings

Partner abuse (emotional), intra-famialial sexual abuse (heavily implied and discussed), misogyny, drug overdose, CSA (heavily implied and discussed), rape (heavily implied), coercive sexual acts, victim blaming + dismissal, violence, cheating, hypersexualization (of a minor), mentions of menstrual cycles, bad acid trip, drug usage (marijuana, LSD), unaccompanied child, depression, forced medical caretaking, police, ableism (one line), unsafe binding techniques

*If I missed any content warnings, please contact me at  authormicahflowers@yahoo.com and I will update them as soon as possible. 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

October 1998

The drip-drip of a faucet accompanied ear-shattering folk metal blasting from Esha’s headphones. She faced her reflection in the mirror of a gas station bathroom, sweeping her curls back and obscuring them with a beanie. Next came a thick bandana, which she used to obscure her lips and nose. Staring at herself, a tinge of excitement swirled in her pupils. Lastly, she reached into her duffel bag, ensuring she brought all the spray cans she needed. 

She bounced out of the gas station and into the streets of Reno, Nevada.  Tucking into an alleyway and exiting to the back of a warehouse building, she smiled. In the distance, she saw the tag she started on a wall. She approached it, slinging the bag off her shoulder. 

About halfway through the artwork, Esha saw lights in her peripherals. Shit, she thought as a police cruiser glided by. Sirens resounded down the road, growing closer as it turned around. Esha bolted from the alleyway, losing a couple empty cans on the way.

She dashed down the streets, feet burning the longer she kept on. The flashing lights blipped in and out of her sight on a parallel road. At the sight of a river, she barreled towards it. She stared at the murky waters for a mere second before jumping in. 

Despite her lungs’ protests, she stayed until the police lights vanished from the frothy top of the water. Breeching the surface, she gasped for air, ripping off the beanie and bandana. 

She crept around, weaving through alleys until she reached the University of Nevada campus. As soon as she stepped through the dorm entrance, she winced at every slosh her boots made against the carpet. She headed straight for the elevator, half-worried she’d flood it with how much liquid dripped from her jacket and jeans. 

Entering a dorm on the first floor, Esha saw her girlfriend Amanda making a snack in the kitchen. As soon as the two made eye contact, Amanda sighed. 

“There you are. I was wondering where the hell you—” She squinted. “Did you go for a swim?”

“Unintentionally,” Esha chimed. “Don’t worry. I’ll mop up the water. Just gotta get out of these clothes and rinse off.”

She stripped her clothes right then and there, ignoring shivers as she headed to the shower. 

Once warm and clean, she returned to the kitchen. She threw her clothes into the washer and cleaned up the massive puddle. Amanda glared at her, leaned up against the counter with a scowl on her face. 

“What were you doing this time?” she asked Esha. 

Esha went to confess, only to curl her lips back. Amanda was a goody-two-shoes white woman who’d clutch her pearls at anything even slightly illegal or rule-breaking. She deemed Esha’s itches to run free and rebel as blasphemy. This hadn’t always been the case; back when the two were in grade school, Amanda wasn’t as uptight. But as she got older, her white, upper-middle-class family hammered a bootlicker mentality into her head. Rigid, unforgiving thinking bled into how she viewed Esha’s actions, even small ones such as flipping off empty police cars. 

Esha scratched her head, faking a sweet, innocent smile, “I was at the park.”

“The park doesn’t have any water near it.”

“Okay, I walked from the park to the river and slipped.”

Amanda approached, hands firm on her hips as she scrutinized Esha. “I looked in your bag, found your headphones all messed up along with the paint cans. Why are you lying to me?”

Esha blew a raspberry. “I didn’t want you to be mad.”

“I’m only mad because you’re doing stupid shit when you know better.” Amanda tapped a finger against her leg. “There’s so much to do here, and you wanna run around, cause trouble. I’m surprised you haven’t been locked up yet.”

“I have good luck.”

“You better not do this shit again. I’ll take your key so you don’t have anywhere to hide if the cops come after you. Do you understand me?”

The words made Esha shrink internally. Smaller and smaller until she felt five-years-old again, at the receiving end of screams in her ear. The voice from the past told her she was a useless, no-good fuck up. That she’d keep paying for her piss poor decisions. She hugged herself, refusing to meet Amanda’s eyes.

“Fine,” she mumbled, sauntering off into the bedroom.

***

The next day, Amanda left for class without saying goodbye. Esha swallowed down her hurt and focused on preparing for her day. Later in sociology, her eyes tugged as she struggled to comprehend her professor’s lecture. From the front of the classroom, Nick, her best friend, occasionally eyed her. As soon as everyone piled out, he came up and gently patted her shoulder. 

“Someone got busy last night, huh?”

She stood up, putting on her backpack as she lowered her voice. “If by got busy you mean running from the cops, then yeah.”

“Oh shit? Did you go out tagging again?” She nodded and he grinned. “Were you able to get a piece done?”

“No. You can thank the pigs for that.”

“Damn. If you want, I can help you scope out some safer spots.”

“Nah. I told Amanda I wouldn’t do it anymore.” 

Nick’s eyebrows furrowed. She could see his internal fight to not shit on her partner. It was no secret he loathed Amanda. He found her to be quite controlling, which Esha couldn’t really disagree with. 

Esha forced a laugh, “It’s okay. I’m sure I’ll figure out some other artsy fartsy shit to do.”

“If you say so.”

He joined her in the food hall, where Amanda awaited. As soon as Esha sat down, Amanda kissed her. The public display of affection made Esha squirm. She tolerated it, not wanting to hear a peep of disappointment from Amanda today. There’d been many attempts to establish boundaries throughout the relationship, all vehemently dismissed. This is what couples are supposed to be like, Amanda would say to Esha, along with more guilt-trippy tirades. She expected Esha to bend to whatever she desired, discomfort irrelevant. 

As always, Nick rolled his eyes at the sight and dug into his plate. He didn’t speak a word for the entire meal.

The moment he bid the pair goodbye, Amanda scoffed. “He didn’t even say hi to me today.”

“Maybe he’s tired.” Esha defended.

“Or,” Amanda shifted back slightly, searing Esha with a nasty look. “You were running your mouth about me again.”

“I wasn’t.” Esha denied. 

“Mhm. Sure you weren’t.” 

Esha groaned. Considering the three grew up together, she could never wrap her head around Amanda’s distrust. It started in high school, shortly after the two started dating. Anything Nick did or said that carried a hint of negativity had to be Esha’s fault. In reality, he just didn’t care for Amanda’s lackadaisical treatment. Perhaps it had to do with Nick and Esha’s consistently positive banter, and how they’d always been a bit closer. 

Amanda moved on from the encounter fast, making quick work of her food and leading Esha to her car. There, tongues tied, hands ventured into Esha’s pants. Esha pushed her discomfort aside to reciprocate Amanda’s touch. 

January 1991

Esha raked a sopping sponge across her father Rohan’s back. Quiet piano music filled the room from a record player. Esha’s eyes fixated on the filthy tub water. Her limbs moved on autopilot. She’d been his caretaker for years now, and though her body knew the motions, her brain never got used to it. She was a child barely able to take care of herself.

She would lie through her teeth, tell him it didn’t kill her to bend over backwards for him, only to suffer neglect. But Rohan knew damn well she hated her life. As always, he tried to diffuse her displeasure with compromises. 

“I’ll have Jacob take you out for some ice cream when he gets home.”

“I don’t want ice cream,” she grumbled, hosing him down with the sprayer. “I don’t wanna go anywhere with Jacob.” 

“He’s a good kid, Esha. And he’s your brother. You need to grant him kindness.” 

She would do no such thing, as the kindness would never be returned. Not in a genuine way; only in the form of Jacob’s sick, perverse desires. And she knew if she wasn’t a girl, her father wouldn’t push her to be ladylike and docile. It sickened her, just like living in this horrible home. One day, I’ll be gone, she thought wryly, pulling the tub plug to drain. 

In the distance, the front door unlocked. Esha’s jaw tightened. As if summoned, Jacob strolled into the bathroom. He greeted his father with a kiss to the forehead, before turning to Esha expectantly. Though she wanted to retch, she kissed him on the lips, wanting it over with.

“Why don’t you go start dinner, Esha?” He said in his normal flat, demanding tone. “I’ll get dad in his wheelchair.” 

She complied, not wanting to be near him until nightfall, when she had no say. In the kitchen, she scoured the fridge for ingredients. There was hardly anything to work with, indicating it was time for Jacob to go grocery shopping. Still, she made do, taking out tofu, broth, and potatoes. 

Wielding a giant pot and a cutting board, she got to work. She sliced the tofu into tiny chunks, then the potatoes. Her skills rivaled professional chefs, as she’d been cooking for the house since her mother died years ago. As soon as this happened, Esha was nominated as the woman of the household. It was her job to cook, clean, and whatever else Jacob didn’t care to do. He was a useless nineteen-year-old using all his work money for porn mags. He joined the family when he was fifteen via adoption, on account of Rohan wanting another man in the house. 

Dinner served, Esha fed Rohan in his room before joining Jacob at the dining table. As usual, Jacob hounded her with inappropriate, disgusting questions that made chills crawl up her spine. Today, his eyes level with her chest, he snorted in disgust. 

“Are you wearing a bra?”

Esha meekly shook her head. “I don’t have any—”

“Then you better find one. I can see everything. You’re basically a woman now, and you need to act like it.”

The next morning Esha stared at her body in the mirror. She teared up—she didn’t know anything about bras, and had no idea where to look or start. For now, she’d settle for layering a couple shirts with her jacket. 

At the bus stop, her best friends Nick and Amanda awaited. As soon as she approached, Nick tilted his head.

“You okay?”

She squeezed her backpack straps. “Yeah. Had a bit of trouble with Jacob yesterday.”

“What did he do?” Amanda asked.

“He said I need a bra…”

Nick’s eyes narrowed, but Amanda simply laughed. “You think that’s trouble? It’s not like he hit you or something.”

“I…I don’t like the way he looked at me,” Esha mumbled. “And I don’t know anything about that stuff.”

“He’s just looking out for you, Esha. And you’ll figure it out. It’s not that hard.”

Esha’s fingers curled into fists. Amanda always said it wasn’t hard to figure stuff like this out. But Amanda had a father willing to educate himself on puberty, and what she would need as she grew up. Esha didn’t have that, not even close. When she got her first period, Jacob screamed in her face for bleeding through the sheets. Her father ignored it. She stuffed her underwear with paper towels until Nick came to the rescue, showing her how to use pads. 

He saved her again today, leaning towards her ear as they got settled in their bus seats. “I have some extra bras. You can come over and try them on if you want.”

“I don’t wanna bother you.” She whispered. “Are you sure?”

“Yup. Just let me know.”

After a boring school day, Esha agreed. Instead of getting off at her normal stop, she joined Nick on his short walk home. There, his parents fawned over Esha as soon as she got through the door. She tuned it all out, albeit unintentionally, smiling and feigning cordiality until she and Nick were in his room. There, he fished out several bras from his closet.

“These are kinda old, but they’ll do the job.”

“How old?”

“Two years, I think. I got them when I was ten.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah…” he flushed in embarrassment. “I’m a D cup now. Not that anyone knows, ‘cause I hide them.” 

“Hide?”

“I don’t like having boobs.” He said. “I’ve been taping them down for a while now.” He lifted his shirt, revealing shoddily applied ace bandages. Now that Esha thought about it, he’d been flat-chested the whole school year. He smiled. “My parents don’t like it, but I don’t care. I feel more comfortable like this.”

“Why wouldn’t they like it?” 

He fell silent, handing her the bras. “Here. You can try them on in the bathroom.”

She nodded, heading there and trying to ignore the fact he dodged her question. To her elation—and relief—all four bras fit perfectly. She returned to Nick feeling a bit better about going home, even though she knew it wouldn’t stop Jacob’s behaviors completely. 

Nick sat up from his bed. “All good?” 

She smiled at him. “Yes. Thank you…” she twirled her fingers. “Do you think your mom can give me a ride home?”

“Of course.”

On the short drive home, Nick delicately held Esha’s hand. She squeezed it, bracing herself for the tiresome night awaiting her. 

November 1998

Esha stopped staying with Amanda. Following the graffiti incident, Amanda didn’t approve of Esha going out on her own, and frequently threatened to take action against her. After an argument that warranted a noise complaint, Nick insisted Esha stay with him.

“I’m tired of her shit, and you deserve some goddamn peace and quiet,” he had said. “I can give you the bed and I’ll stay on the couch.”

Esha declined until Amanda finally followed up her promise to lock Esha out. Esha showed up on Nick’s doorstep that night, hand hovering as she tried to work up courage to knock. She knew what Amanda was doing was wrong, but she couldn’t shake the feeling it was her own fault. If she’d bend to Amanda’s will and whims, it would be okay. Why couldn’t she be good for once?

Before she could curl her fingers into a fist, the door opened. Nick stood, hair wet from a shower. He leaned against the doorway, other hand on his hip.

“Let me guess, she finally locked you out?”

“Sure did,” Esha said, stepping in when he moved aside. “Are you sure—”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Although he offered his bed, Esha said the two could share it. That night, as if they were teenagers again, the two faced away from each other beneath the sheets. His asthmatic, wheezy breaths soothed her. A reminder he was there with her, alive, and she wasn’t alone. 

“Did I tell you I found a surgeon?” he said suddenly.

“For?”

“My chest.” 

Esha’s eyes brightened. “Fuck yeah! I’m so happy for you. When are you getting it?”

“Two weeks from now. I was wondering if you would…” He trailed off, and she shifted to face him. “Nevermind.”

“No, go on.” She encouraged. 

“I’ll be drugged out of my mind, might have drains. I’ll need someone to watch me. I…don’t really have anyone else.”

“Yeah, I got you.” She said immediately. 

“Esha…are you sure?”

She sighed. Out of everyone, Nick tried his best not to force Esha into caretaking. He knew her upbringing, witnessed the torture of providing until breaking into pieces. He was so mindful he often refused to ask for any help. Esha had to remind him that give-and-take is normal—obsessive and constant taking was the issue. 

“Yeah. Taking care of you after a surgery isn’t anything like taking care of my dad and brother. I should be a-okay.”

“You can back out at any point.” he told her, meaning it.

“I know. Thank you.”

***

The day of the surgery, Esha drove Nick to and from California. On the way home, she smiled at his groggy, unintentionally funny words. 

“Damn, they gave you the good shit, huh?” She glanced over at him briefly before returning her eyes to the road. “How you feeling?” 

“Good. So good. Thank you so much for agreeing to help,” he slurred. “I love you.”

The words stung, although out of everyone, he said it—and meant it—the most. She swallowed, reminding herself that Nick was genuine. He always had been. The two were thick as thieves, especially after he went no-contact with his parents. Regardless, she couldn’t bear to reciprocate the phrase. 

To show she did love him too, she whipped up a batch of paneer butter masala as soon as they got home. She made sure to taper back the usual spices, not wanting to upset his stomach. As she trotted into his room with a steaming bowl, his eyes alighted in joy. She sat down next to him in a folding chair, and he tilted his head in confusion. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna feed you.”

“No, no. I don’t want you to be upset.” he said.

“Nick…” she placed the bowl on his nightstand and took his hand. “I’m alright. Really. I…I love you, and I want to take care of you.”

With a grumble, he allowed her to feed him spoonfuls of the meal. She made a mess both on herself and Nick’s lap. Feeling fully comfortable, she peeled off her tank top and used it to clean his pants. He thanked her, and she stood, gently rustling his hair.

“I got you.” 

As Esha washed dishes, someone knocked at the door. Glimpsing through the peephole, it was none other than Amanda. Unthinking, Esha opened up. She blocked the entryway, though, since she didn’t want Amanda hanging around for long. How fucked was it that she didn’t want to be around her own girlfriend, knowing all she’d bring is trouble? 

“Can I help you?” Esha asked, ignoring the hammering of her heart. 

Amanda scoffed. “Can you help me? Babe, you haven’t talked to me in two weeks.”

“Well, let’s see. You locked me out for going to a show without asking. Like Rohan would’ve done,” Esha spat. “So why would I want to talk to you after that?”

“Because you’re my girlfriend.”

“Hardly.” 

“Watch your mouth—” Her eyes dropped to Esha’s bra. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are your tits out?”

Esha flushed, having forgotten about the soiled t-shirt. “I spilled something on my shirt while feeding Nick.” She answered truthfully.

“Mhm. Convenient. And why would you need to feed him?”

“Because he just got out of surgery. Not like it’s your business.” 

“I want to see him.” Amanda said, trying to shove her way through. 

Esha placed a hand on Amanda’s chest, pushing her backward. “No way. He’s drugged up, and the last thing he needs is you stressing him out. If you wanna see him or me, you’re gonna have to wait.”

“You’re cheating on me, aren’t you? The two of you are always trading ‘fuck-me’ eyes, so I wouldn’t be shocked.”

“I’m not cheating on you, holy shit! He asked me to help him with the surgery recovery, and that’s what I’m doing–”

“You’re being bad, Esha. You know that.”

The sentences flipped a switch in Esha’s head. They disgusted her, made her shut down, which Amanda knew. Growing up, Esha confided in Amanda about Rohan saying these things to foster guilt in her. The longer the two dated, the more Amanda repurposed his words into her own weapon. One that bled Esha out like a pig every time.

Esha shrank, smaller and smaller until all bravery fled. “I’m sorry. I’m…I promise I’m not cheating. I’ve been good. I just…” she rubbed her hands together. “I just want to take care of Nick until he’s better. Then I’ll come home. Okay?”

Amanda smiled. “Perfect.” she pulled Esha into a kiss, tongue poking through her lips and against her teeth. Esha forced herself not to shudder as Amanda pulled away. “I’ll see you soon, baby.”

As she walked back to her car, a part of Esha hoped to never see her again. 

December 1994

Another quarter over. Another string of Fs on Esha’s report card. 

As she studied the comments accompanying bright red confirmations of her failure, she choked up. Her father would be furious, and so would Jacob. Nick, occupying the seat beside her, slyly slid her a red gel pen matching the marks. Though the offer to forge good grades was tempting, Esha didn’t care enough. She’d been weeks without a shower, weeks without sanity. For a while, she’d held together just fine. She juggled her home and school responsibilities just well enough to float. 

She was doing fine until Jacob started sleeping in her bed. 

He’d done strange things before across the room, but never this. This new, despicable trend continued every night unless he worked late shifts. Two years in, she told herself she’d get used to it. That, in some sick way, his actions were a part of her responsibilities. But no matter how often it happened, and no matter how much Jacob praised her, she felt inhuman. As if at any minute her flesh would split at the seams, unveiling a husk. 

She didn’t breathe a word to anyone for a long time. Not until Amanda and her started getting close, close enough to date. It’d been no secret that the two had feelings for each other since Kindergarten, when Amanda gifted her hand-picked daisies from the playground. Only now did Amanda decide to take it semi-seriously, asking Esha out at lunch on a sunny February day. At first, Esha rejected her, scared of commitment. But the more persistent the request became, the more Esha caved until finally saying yes. 

As the relationship progressed, Esha couldn’t hold it in any longer. At a sleepover, she sobbed in Amanda’s arms, telling her about Jacob’s abuse. Though her girlfriend held her tight, she held an indifference in her eyes. When Esha finally stopped crying enough to breathe, Amanda spoke one sentence.

“Maybe he doesn’t know any better.”

Esha refused to bring it up again. Not even to Nick, despite her brain’s insistence he would be more receptive and understanding. 

Just like her anxieties, Esha now crumpled up the report card. She would lie and say she didn’t get one. Nick stared at her, eyes concern-ridden. When the dismissal bell rang, he followed her. 

“What are you doing?” He asked when she stopped to throw the report card away. 

“I never got it.” She said, practicing the fib. She hated lying. But she figured she could delay Jacob’s anger this way, shifting the blame to the staff. 

“Was it that bad? I only saw one F.”

“I’m flunking everything. At this point I’ll be stuck in tenth grade forever.” She paused in the hallway, looking at Nick with bleary eyes. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you this…”

“Esha, I asked.” He touched her hand, so gently she wanted to sob. “Are you okay? You’ve been so distant.”

Distant was an understatement. Amanda, Jacob, and dad took up all of Esha’s time. She sacrificed her closeness with Nick to cater to the three. To be responsible and good. As his thumb flitted across her palm, she questioned his loyalty despite her neglect. 

“You don’t have to be friends with me anymore if you don’t want to.” She said, prepared for him to let her go.

He squeezed her fingers. “When I said friends forever, I meant that. If you need space, that’s okay. I’ll be waiting.”

She wanted to tease him–remind him that he said ‘friends forever’ when the two were four-years-old–but instead, joy fought off the poison filling her bloodstream. She squeezed his hand back before slipping away to class. 

***

“Did your report card come in?”

Esha froze, forkful of black beans halfway in her mouth. She devoured it, rehearsing her response internally before meeting Jacob’s gaze.

“I didn’t get one.”

“You didn’t get one?”

“Nope. I asked my teachers about it, and everyone said it should be figured out on Monday.”

Jacob obnoxiously chewed his food, making Esha’s toes curl. “Did anyone else get messed up?”

“…Yes. One other girl in my class.”

“Her name?”

“Beverly.” Esha said quickly, wanting the interaction to be over. 

“Beverly who?”

“Gibson.”

The remainder of dinner spent in silence, Esha’s nerves collapsed, shredded, and exploded. Jacob’s hazy eyes on her body frightened her, making her subconsciously button her flannel closed. 

She blacked out when the moon replaced the sun, as if her mind anticipated the pain to come. Her surroundings returned, but she ignored them along with Jacob’s weight. Staring into the darkness, she imagined Nick’s hand in hers. How warm his fingers were, how perfectly their hands melted together. 

And that’s all it took for her to flee. 

Ripping through the house, she landed in front of the shoe rack. She hurriedly put sneakers on, hearing Jacob’s footsteps down the hall. As he rounded the corner, she ran into the night. 

No matter how fast she barrelled down the hill and into the streets, she was no match for the car now chasing her. Jacob’s low-sitting vehicle strode up to her side, as close as he could without veering into the grass. She didn’t slow down, trying to push herself to go faster. 

Rolling down the window, his enraged eyes pierced Esha. “Get in the fucking car!” He screamed. 

He veered off the road a couple feet ahead. Sprinting in the direction she came from, she ignored his profanities followed by a car door slamming. It didn’t take long for him to catch up, tackling her to the ground. Her lungs gave out as he jerked both of them to a stand. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He spat, hoisting her up by the collar. “Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

“Put me down!” She tried. “Jacob, please.” 

Right as he threw her to the ground, cop lights flooded her vision. She crawled off to the side as two officers approached, guns aimed at Jacob. Curling up into a ball, she shut her eyes. 

Why did I run? She thought. I just made everything worse. 

She didn’t register the clicking of handcuffs, nor the officer speaking to her. He helped her to a stand, and she caught sight of Jacob being loaded into one of two cruisers, hands behind his back. 

“Miss? Can you tell me your name?”

“Esha Pines.”

“Are you heavily injured? Do you need an ambulance?”

When she shook her head no, he told her she’d need to come to the police station.

Esha spent two hours talking to the cops. They believed her claims of Jacob’s physicality by the car, but nothing else. When she tried to bring up the bedroom assault, they ignored her entirely. She tried to call this out, scooping up the remainder of her bravery. 

“What about the last thing I said?” She asked.

One officer unsubtly chewed his tobacco in disinterest. “You got proof he touched you in that manner?”

Her throat dried up. She curled her fingers towards herself before speaking. “I’m sorry, did you not listen to a word I said? It…It started in my room. I ran, he chased me, threw me to the ground. I showed you the scratches. I showed you the proof–”

“A scratch on your neck and collarbone are not proof of sexual assault, Miss. Pines.” The second officer said, standing up. “I understand you don’t have a ride home. I’ll take you.” 

“I’d rather walk until my feet bleed.” She told him.“Since you’re so fucking useless.” 

“How about I remind you there’s a curfew that you’d be breaking as soon as you step off this property? I’ll throw you in the same cell as your brother.”

Teeth gritted, Esha agreed to the ride. Jacob would remain in jail with an aggravated assault charge. She didn’t know for how long, but she would relish his absence.

As soon as she returned home, Esha brought Rohan from his room to speak with the cop. He informed Rohan of Jacob’s charges, and the bail set. The whole time, Rohan’s eyebrows met in the middle of his veiny, large forehead. The moment the man left, Esha rolled him back down the hall. As she did, Rohan spoke.

“I’m so disappointed in you, Esha.”

She stopped, letting her hands fall flaccid to her sides. “What?”

“I know the two of you don’t enjoy sharing a room. But provoking him into violence? Running off into the night, getting him arrested? I expect better from my daughter.”

Esha laughed. A sharp, bitter one that lasted eons. Of course it was her fault! Why wouldn’t it be? Maybe, she thought, she’d been asking for trouble since the day she was born. Perhaps she somehow orchestrated her mother’s death, her father’s debilitating disease, and Jacob’s unwanted advances. If she held such a cosmic power, she didn’t want it. She wanted, for once, to feel no responsibility. To not feel at fault, like a filthy dog pissing on the floor instead of outside. What could she do to relieve herself of this duty  as a lamb to the slaughter?

The answer was nothing. She’d die in this house, a bird trapped in a shrinking cage until its feathers burst through the grates. So she put her hands on Rohan’s shoulders, grinned ear-to-ear even though he couldn’t see.

“I’m sorry.” She deadpanned. “I’ll be good from now on.”

She kept her word the next day, when Rohan sent a neighbor to bail Jacob out. Jacob’s rage radiated through the entire house as soon as he stepped through the door. Esha tiptoed around him, making herself small and undetectable until she couldn’t. He cornered her in the bedroom after dinner.

Esha’s soul died that night, replaced with a placeholder. One that could tolerate, and even grow numb to, the new form of pain Jacob inflicted. 

July 1999

Esha moved in with Amanda once more, snapping herself in half to appease her. She cooked, cleaned, and made love to Amanda whenever she wanted. Nick, more than aware of Esha falling into trauma responses, did the best he could to support from a distance. She wouldn’t let him in, not since Amanda’s insistence the two had an affair. There was no need for external conflicts when Esha could take the damage herself. 

Every once in a while, after Amanda tuckered her out in long-winded, bedroom rumbles, Esha fantasized a world where she was free. Where the responsibilities she bore were ones she wanted. She dreamed of cleaning  her own house instead of picking up after others, taking up new hobbies instead of indulging everyone else’s. Sometimes, she dreamed of adopting a younger sibling. Perhaps it was the subconscious urge to have someone other than Rohan and Jacob to call kin, never satiated. Her reveries would have to remain such, as she knew deep down, freedom would mean derailing her purpose to please others. She’d already left Rohan and Jacob behind, which meant Amanda was her priority. It was all she knew besides Nick, who she didn’t want subjected to strife. 

This year, Amanda would turn twenty. To celebrate, she decided to throw a bash. She left the planning all up to Esha, which was as grueling as it sounded upon pitch. Especially since she wanted everything but the guestlist to be a surprise. Ultimately, Esha got a hold of Amanda’s pals, arranging the gathering at one of their houses. 

The day of, Amanda’s friend Bridget drove Esha to her home; a ridiculous three-story juggernaut in a gated community. Bridget and a couple other women squealed and carried on in the living room as Esha put up the decorations. She didn’t bother asking for anyone’s help, having a feeling it would be pointless. As she set out paper plates and cups on the coffee table, Bridget spoke.

“So…you and Amanda have been together a while, huh?” She asked, flipping her brown hair over her shoulder.

“Yeah. Since sophomore year of high school.” Esha said, forcing a smile. 

“You know, she hardly talks about you.” One woman, Courtney, chimed. “She talks more about homework.” 

All three laughed, making Esha’s heart sink. Don’t feed into it, she thought to herself, finishing up and moving on to the kitchen. The giggles and whispers didn’t cease as she lined up veggie and fruit platters. She knew Amanda didn’t care about her beyond flesh pleasures, but the confirmation hurt like Hell.

Esha dissociated through the waiting period between guests trickling in and Amanda’s arrival. Even when her girlfriend strode into the packed kitchen, birthday congrats overlapping, Esha stayed in a corner. She didn’t expect Amanda to mosey over, adorned in an orange sash and paper crown. 

“Thanks for setting up, babe.” Amanda told her, smooching her on the cheek. “I’ve got a little something for you.”

She reached into her mini purse, pulling out a sheet with several tiny squares on it. Esha tilted her head curiously. 

“What is this?”

“LSD. You said you wanted to try it.”

“Oh…” Esha stammered. “I meant like, in private. At the dorm.”

“Come on, Esha. When’s the last time you partied like there’s no tomorrow? It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

Esha peeled a tab off the sheet, heeding Amanda’s instructions to keep it on her tongue for a bit. Before Esha could do anything else, Amanda zipped away, fading into the crowd.

For a bit, nothing happened. Esha watched frat boys chug beers and sorority sisters dance from a corner. But after forty minutes, all the sweaty bodies in the house glowed, tiny rays of light glistening off skin.  The tiles in the floor danced,  spinning and carrying on, same with the walls and cabinets and doors. Overwhelmed by the environmental shift, Esha pushed through the crowd. She climbed up the first set of steps, trying to find an unoccupied room. Each time, she found a couple having sex, screaming at her to get out. As she headed to the third floor, the images swirled and corrupted, showing an omniscient perspective of her memories. She couldn’t help but sob at the sensations wracking her, leaving her clutching her stomach. 

Thankfully, the final room she checked had nobody in it. She dove to the floor, crawling, trying to get Jacob out of her head. He didn’t budge, his breaths and rancid smell potent. An invisible weight crushed her as she rolled onto her back, covering herself. 

“No…no…it’s not real he’s not here,” She muttered. “I’m not…a kid anymore…” 

“Woah. You okay down there?”

Standing in front of the breathing, open door was a stubby Filipino woman. Her skin twinkled against the neon lighting, each hair on her arms rustling like disturbed patches of grass. Purple fringe bangs ended above her eyes, which were caked in bright pink makeup. 

“Can you hear me?” She asked Esha, honeyed voice a welcome respite from the chaotic yells. 

“It’s very loud and bad,” Esha said, standing only to stumble over her own feet. “And the walls are breathing like we are. It’s too much. Can you see it? Can you can you see my memories?”

“Did you take something?”

“I think so but I think it was many years ago. Not today. Right? Oh fuck,” Esha dryly laughed, slumping against the wall. “You think I don’t make any sense, don’t you?”

“Nah, you make plenty of sense. What’s your name, hun?”

“I’m called Esha. What are you called?”

“Pax. Let’s sit on the bed. It’ll be more comfortable.”

“Are you going to do something to me?”

“Nope. Just gonna hit a joint I brought if you’re cool with it.”

Delighted not to be harangued or pressured into anything, Esha wobbly followed her to the bed. Pax sparked up, crossing her legs. Esha lay out, squirming atop the comforter like a cat. The silky texture provided an odd comfort along with Pax’s tiny, cute coughs. For a minute, the terror and spiraling thoughts from earlier subsided. Now, she was mainly confused. Why was this random woman sitting with her in a guest room, away from the hype outside the door?

“You’re not partying like the others, you’re in here with me.” Esha noted. 

“Yeahhh. This is normal for me. I always sneak away into a little corner or room and smoke up, then leave. I’m glad I did, cause I found you. It’s not fun to be alone and tripping dicks in a place like this.”

“I was trying to find my girlfriend but she ran off on me. And everywhere I turn it’s just…sorority city. And that’s okay, but it’s not for me. It’s not for me and Amanda knows that. I don’t know why I’m here if she can’t be bothered to stay with me. I know it’s her birthday, but–”

“Wait, you’re Amanda’s girlfriend? I had no idea.” 

“Of course not. Fuck!” She sat up, rubbing her teary eyes. “I’m sorry you’re like, this random person and I keep going on and on. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

She started sobbing uncontrollably. Pax hovered a hand over her shoulder. “May I?” Esha nodded, and Pax draped an arm around her. “You don’t have to be sorry. You may not know me, but I’m happy to help. I’ve had my fair share of scary trips. It sucks handling them all alone. Do you want me to help you find Amanda?”

“Maybe here in a bit…” She smiled softly at the warmth of Pax’s fingers. “It feels nice to be held.”

Pax guided Esha into her lap, running fingers through her wavy locks as time ticked by. The kindness of a stranger made Esha question everything. Was it possible that she deserved tenderness for doing nothing? For simply existing? Only one other person in her life made her feel like she did–Nick, who she sorely missed. She needed to see him. She needed to break away from Amanda’s grasp, and let her dreams become reality. 

“I have to break up with her.” Esha said aloud. 

“Oh shit? Well, you did say she’s not the best girlfriend.” 

“When I find her, I’m gonna dump her ass!” Esha proclaimed, shooting upward and puffing her chest. “Yeah….yeah! Fuck her! I deserve so much better than this.”

“That’s the spirit. It’s your life, not hers.” Pax giggled. “Sorry, I’m kind of an enabler. You ready to find her?”

“Fuck yeah! Let’s go.” 

Beaming with newfound confidence, Esha led Pax room-to-room, demanding Amanda’s cohorts to fork over her location. Nobody seemed to know where she vanished to. After every area inside the house was combed, Esha ventured to the backyard. 

Lavish lounge chairs encased a massive pool. As soon as Esha stepped onto the tile, she recognized the back of Amanda’s head. She accompanied another figure in the water, hidden by her fluffy blonde hair and torso. Realizing she was topless, and recognizing her moans of pleasure, a rod of jealousy ripped through Esha’s heart. Leaving Pax behind at the sliding door, Esha strutted straight up to the edge. 

“Amanda?”

Amanda turned, unveiling the person glued to her side. At the sight of crisp, sharp blue eyes and uneven scraggly blond hair, Esha’s heart stopped. A cacophony of emotions wracked her, rage at the forefront. Flashbacks and sensations looped in her head, relentless as she hyperventilated. 

“What the fuck?”

Ungluing herself from Jacob, Amanda swam to the edge of the pool. She rested her chin on her hands, staring up at Esha casually. “Oh no! Looks like you found me.”

“What the hell were you doing with him?” Esha demanded.

“Fucking him, obviously. Are you blind?” She chuckled. “Oh wait, that’s right. You’re tripping. You probably can’t even understand me.” 

“Why would you cheat on me with him of all people?” Esha screamed. She stared at Jacob with hatred. “And what the fuck are you doing here, huh?”

He tilted his head, faking innocence. “Amanda invited me, and I’d never turn down an invite from such a beautiful woman.”

Amanda laughed. She fucking laughed. “Since you fucked Nick, I wanted to be fair and square.” 

Esha exploded, grabbing a lawn chair and throwing it into the water. It narrowly missed Amanda, who ducked at the last second. “I never fucked Nick! I’ve…I’ve been nothing but loyal to you! But that’s never mattered to you, huh? Because you’re just a controlling bitch!” She glanced between Jacob and Amanda once more before sucking in a sharp breath. “Well, I hope you enjoy bouncing on some mediocre, rapist dick. I hope it was worth losing me over.” 

She stormed off, mumbling thanks to Pax on the way out. 

Eternity passed as she left the neighborhood. Somehow, she wound up on campus, wandering to the apartment complex Nick lived in. Her feet burned, her limbs ached, and she wanted nothing more than the one person who actually loved her. She made it to his doorstep before fainting, falling face-first onto the ground. 

When her eyes opened, she felt the fabric of Nick’s ancient couch beneath her fingers. She plucked out a couple fibers, grabbed her throbbing head. Nick sat by her feet, a gentle hand on her calf. 

She groaned. “What happened?”

“You were at my doorstep, passed the fuck out. I’m glad these walls are thin, or else I wouldn’t have heard you fall.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s alright. Is everything okay?”

“No. I went to Amanda’s birthday party. She gave me acid, left me all alone. And then she…she was fucking Jacob.” she told him.

“What?”

“Yeah…I broke up with her. Why would she do this to me, Nick? Did I do something wrong? She said it’s payback for cheating on her with you, but I didn’t. I didn’t. I would never. I…I don’t think I could do that to anyone. Am I bad?”

Nick gently took her hands. “Of course not. You’ve been nothing but loyal and kind to her. I have no fucking idea what her problem is. But it’s nothing to do with you.” 

She burrowed into his chest, wrapping her arms around his back.  Nick held her tight. It was more than enough. When she pulled away, the rays of color outlining him intrigued her. Without thinking, she cupped his face, running thumbs across his jaw. 

“You’ve always been so good to me, Nick. Even when I didn’t deserve it,” she said, eyes bleary. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. What are friends for?” 

“You’re not my friend. You’re more than that. You always have been,” she replied, not thinking about making sense. All she saw was his younger self’s shy smile, one which aged like fine wine as time escaped them both. He had that very expression now as he stared into her eyes.

She longed to let him take hold of her hips and tear off her clothes, She wanted to be devoured. It didn’t make sense. It made too much sense. Jacob’s face drudged up all her shame, and what other way to combat shame than with pleasure? Nick could provide that with his lovely, calloused hands and perfectly shaped lips. She leaned in to kiss him, but he stopped her.

“Esha…you’re not in control right now,” he said gently. “I can hold you in my arms, but nothing more. Not while you’re like this. Do you understand?”

Her head dropped before she nodded. “Then hold me. Please.”

He did exactly that in his bed, arms securing her in a firm, but kind grip. There, so vulnerable and cycling through her fucked-up life, she told him about Jacob with his permission. He cradled her head, caught her tears. 

“Do you want words of comfort?” He questioned. “Or do you just need to let it all out while I listen?”

“Let it all out.” She answered. 

She cried off and on until the effects of the LSD finally began to wane. By then, Nick was fast asleep, nose buried in her hair as he snored. She ran a thumb across his jaw, pinpricks of stubble distracting her from her pain. Though her heart ached from Amanda’s retaliation, she knew she was finally free.

August 2001

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Esha held Rohan’s hand, watching the color leave his body. His chest barely moved now, eyes half open. Yet, he still spoke, chiding his daughter.

“Why are you here?” He croaked.

She didn’t have the answer. When his caretaker called and told her he’d be dead in a couple days, Esha hesitated to pack up. Nick even discouraged it.

Shortly after dumping Amanda, Esha moved in with Nick. She stayed as long as she could before growing uncomfortable. Not able to find steady work, she drifted along, barely held up by Nick. He wouldn’t say it, but she knew he struggled to feed both with his measly twenty-hours-a-week at a gas station. 

One day, she pulled him aside, told him she’d be dropping out and going back to North Carolina. She would live in a shelter until she could afford to live on her own. He made her promise to keep in touch, giving her a cell phone he would pay service for. 

That night, before her departure, the two kissed. Bodies collided in a long bout of passion, the tension from all the years prior at a boiling point. With nobody in the way, neither could deny their sexual chemistry. She splayed her hands over his top surgery scars as she rode him, his gaze cast up in admiration. He didn’t want to be touched; he simply wanted to please Esha. And please he did, providing his toys and warm mouth until she collapsed in his arms from exhaustion. 

Now, as her father waited for a reply in a swollen silence, all she could think of was the encounter, of Nick’s platonic admiration. Of real love. She couldn’t care less about the man fading away before her eyes. Perhaps the walls she put up for Rohan never faded, even long after she escaped to college and went low-contact. Was she evil for feeling nothing? Or in the right for her disgust of him, knowing he never cared what Jacob did to her, and that he transformed his only blood child into a housewife?

“I wanted to see you go.”

This was true. In a twisted way, watching him leave this earth would provide catharsis. She could shut the door on her past for good. The absence of specifics wouldn’t hurt Rohan; he could die believing she actually loved him. It was better than he deserved.

“The house…” he wheezed. “Is yours. Jacob didn’t…want it.”

“Of course he didn’t. He never cared about you.” She said, unable to control herself. “He didn’t care about either of us.”

“He was…still…” His heartrate tapered down. “A good boy…”

And with that, he was gone; defending a rapist in his last damn breath. 

Esha didn’t cry. She turned to the caretaker stationed in the corner of the room. “Was he telling the truth about the house?”

“Yes.” The tiny white woman answered. “He updated his will one month ago, after Mr. Jacob stopped visiting.”

Head spinning from the influx of information, she left the hospital and called Nick. “You okay?” He asked as soon as he picked up.

“Yeah. He’s gone…” She scratched her head. “But I might be getting the house.”

“Shit, really? That’s good news. You’ll be able to leave the shelter.”

“It’ll be nice to give the spot to someone else who needs it.” She fidgeted with her lip. “I’ll keep you updated. I love you.” 

“Love you too, Esha.”

April 2003

Esha spent the first years of living in her childhood home making the place her own. It mostly worked, except she couldn’t set foot in her old bedroom. The rest of the place was gutted, decorations torn off walls in exchange for folk metal band posters and prints of reptiles. She replaced all the furniture too, using scraps from her job at a call center to snag deals at confinement stores. All the pain locked away in a room she would never brave again, she acclimated easily. 

With age, Nick got a bit coarser around the edges. Esha blamed this on the grueling process of obtaining his masters degree. He moved across state and switched colleges, causing more stress. Still, it didn’t take long for him to soften in her presence. The two called every week for hours. Towards the end, without fail, the two would fool around. Salacious phrases poured from her lips along with moans, accompanied by his own as he pleased himself. It was a kind of intimacy Esha enjoyed, but one that always left her asking “What are we?”

He would breathlessly chuckle. “Best friends who like getting each other off on occasion,” was his answer every time. “As long as you’re comfortable with that.”

She was beyond comfortable with it. No romantic strings or commitment were ideal, at least for now. Both expressed a desire for full-fledged partnership in the future. 

Esha returned home one day, absolutely wiped after a thirty-minute-long argument with a client. She took out ingredients for a sandwich when her phone rang. Her eyebrow arched, as Nick rarely called outside of the scheduled times. She picked up in a hurry, concerned for him.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m…fine. I have news.”

She held her breath, released it as she relaxed her face. “Go on.”

“Amanda’s dead.”

The words punctured Esha’s mind like needles. “What?”

“She overdosed at a party yesterday.” He fell silent. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but…I felt like you should know. Since we were her best friends growing up and…everything else.”

Tears fell down Esha’s face. Several conflicting emotions eclipsed her exhaustion. On one hand, she felt similar to her father’s death. Hollow, uncaring. But another part of her–the part that could clearly picture Amanda’s body twitch and heave as she seized–felt dread. She felt sorry for her. Why? What was so different? 

“Shit…” She muttered.

“The funeral’s at the end of April. I know she was awful to us…but I think I’m gonna go. I wanted to tell you before I decided, though. Cause….she hurt you way more than she hurt me, and I would understand if you want me to skip it.”

“I’ll go with you.” 

Esha decided to grieve the Amanda she fell for; the innocent four-year-old that picked daisies for her. Because no matter how much she hated to admit it, she thought of that fondness and those days often. Before Amanda’s privilege became harmful to bear, she’d been an okay companion to Esha and Nick. It was fair to miss those simpler days, while acknowledging the pain Amanda caused later on. 

“Are you sure?” Nick questioned.

“Yes. Just give me your new address, and I’ll meet you there the day of.”

***

The flat and barren desert plains rolled across the horizon as Esha drove. Hands firm on the steering wheel of her truck, her eyelids tugged downward. Nevada’s sandy sights meant she neared the end of her journey. 

She initially planned to stay in a hotel room close to Nick, but Amanda’s death brought up more than she expected. Esha’s mental state finicky, she didn’t want to lash out at him for things he couldn’t control. So she informed him she’d stay a couple hours out at the cheapest-looking motel she could find. 

Her first night there, she couldn’t get any sleep. Agitations rose when, the next morning, she found the continental breakfast lacking and the vending machine on her floor completely broken. She checked the second with no luck. Thankfully, as she rounded a corner on the first level, she spotted a vending machine—along with a strange sight.

A Black child stood in front, slapping the glass and fiddling with the keypad. Frustration wracked their face. Esha thought to turn away, but the sight disturbed her. She saw no other adults or anyone who could be a guardian. Were they all alone? Were they hurt? Did something happen to them?

Did they need her help?

Unlike the father who failed her during her childhood, Esha refused to turn a blind eye.