Chapter Text
Gus had a pinch in her back. It had been there since last night and no matter which way she twisted, it stuck. She worried it was taking permanent housing in her body and she’d slowly become someone who’d groan everytime they stood. Gus found herself blaming the cafe chairs, it was a small place that had never gained much revenue. Maybe if there were cushions or if the wooden backs bent slightly the discomfort would go away.
The cafe exuded a peculiar atmosphere that day, lacking in warmth despite the steam rising from the cups and faint conversations in the air. Her mom's question about Christmas felt distant, the holiday spirit elusive in the absence of snow and fallen leaves. Even the coffee tasted off, a far cry from the comfort it usually provided.
“Are you planning on coming over in the morning for presents?” Her mom was bent over the cup, blowing on it to ward off the heat.
“I can, yeah.” Gus rolled her shoulder back. It didn’t seem cold enough for Christmas. The leaves outside hadn’t yet fallen and there were no sightings of snow.
“This tastes like decaf.” Her mom’s lips were pulled into a line. “It’s all brown. When I order black coffee. I want black.”
Gus didn’t like hot coffee unless she was the one making it. There was no music playing, the only sound was ticking from the kitten clock on the wall. It was ten minutes off the actual time. The clock had eyes that usually knocked from side to side, having the ability to make anyone dizzy if they stared for long enough. Today the eyes stayed still, glued forward as if there was something there to look at.
Following the cat's line of sight, she found herself looking at a girl. The girl was standing in the middle of the parking lot with her head twisted slightly towards the left. Gus was too far away to make out where or what her eyes were locked on. She was so still—almost as if someone over them had pressed pause.
“Mom—“
“Alright, I should be heading out. If you can find the time, could you give your dad a call? He won’t give me any hints about gifts but he’s impossible to shop for.” Her mom stood up, wiping invisible grime on her coat. The coffee cup that had been there seconds ago was gone.
Gus wasn’t able to get another word out before her mom was out the door, yellow coat flowing behind her.
“Are you using this chair?” A man asked. Gus glanced up. There was something bland about him. Sickeningly mundane.
“No, no go ahead.”
“Thank you.”
The chair dragged against the floor. Frustration rang through her, it felt like her skin was itching, making it nearly impossible to stay still. Gus tightened her grip on her cup, staring at the empty spot across from her, any trace of her mother now completely gone. Once again, Gus’ eyes strained towards the window, inching closer and closer—
Glass shattered, causing a wave of murmurs and gasps to rise. The reaction seemed more conspicuous than the crime. Though, like the others she shot her attention towards the commotion, watching a flurry of people crowd around the scene. The once quiet room was now booming with noise, tearing at her head and causing something suffocating to hit.
The pain in her back gnawed higher which made her shoulders ache. She rolled them once, then again to no avail.
The same man from earlier was hovering near the crowd, but his eyes were on Gus. Tension was pulling behind the man’s features, making Gus feel trapped below the surface. She hadn’t moved an inch since her mother left, and yet, she felt unreservedly out of place. The pull towards the commotion was all consuming, but she dug his heels into the ground and forced it away.
Without bothering to take another look around she got up and placed her cup on the counter, grimacing as the liquid pooled onto the wood. Glancing to the window she expected to see the girl again, but her attention caught on a specific green civic. It sat vacant.
Gus pushed the door open, jogging across the pavement.
“Mom?” She called, looking around. No one stopped or seemed to notice her distress, “Mom!”
The girl was back. Or maybe she had been there the whole time, only now she was on the grass, staring just past the cafe. She looked young, maybe fifteen or barely sixteen. Gus found herself in the same position the girl had been in minutes ago—standing in the middle of the parking lot and staring just left of the cafe – she wondered if the cat was looking at her now, too.
“It’s snow.” The girl said, voice timid and somehow sounding younger than she already looked.
Gus peered up. While it was cloudy, there wasn’t a hint of gray. Then she thought about the phrasing it’s snow; not that there was the possibility of it coming or it already being there, but snow as if it was a thing that could stand up and exist like them.
She walked towards the girl, movements slow in fear of freighting her.
“I’m freezing. Do you have a coat with you?”
Gus looked down at herself, her skin feeling overheated. “Oh. You—do you want my coat?”
“If that’s okay. I forgot mine.” The girl said, eyes not moving to look at her.
“Okay.” Gus pulled it off. It was navy blue and puffier than she’d normally prefer. It had been a birthday gift from three years ago. She didn’t like it much then and hadn’t grown any fonder of it.
“Thank you.” The girl delicately pulled it on. “I like it. Blue is my favorite color.”
Gus decided to entertain the conversation. “Yeah? Mine’s pink.”
“Sure.” The girl now sounded uninterested. “The snow, it’s coming.”
Following her line of sight, Gus found herself staring at a huddle of trees. They looked newly planted, still having decades to live. Unlike the rest of the dead woods, they had budding leaves.
“Are you okay? Do you need me to get someone for you?”
The girl snapped her head up, causing Gus to take a cautious step back. Her eyes were blue, icey and blinding to look into. Just as quick as it came, the look of shock subsided and the girl turned from her, form relaxed.
“I have to go now. I’ll get this back to you.” Then she was off, moving towards the circle of green trees. Gus noticed then how big the coat was on the girl, the arms falling fair past her hands and nearly draping on the ground. With a wave of self-consciousness, Gus could feel every part of her body and wanted to crawl out of it.
The car, she remembered the car. It sat there like before, looking shinier than her mom’s ever had. Just as she was about to walk towards it, the same man from earlier left the cafe while fumbling for his keys. Gus watched as he got in the green Civic and drove off. Thinking more about the civic, It had looked a bit too new, nicer than anything they’d ever had. Her mom didn’t bother with car washes and hadn’t been one to care when causing a scratch or dent. It wasn’t theirs. Her mom was fine and the car wasn’t theirs.
Her eyes trailed back to the woods, curiosity hitting. Gus spared the empty parking spot a final glance before forcing her feet in the desired direction. Rounding the corner she wasn’t met with anything spectacular, trees grew taller with every step, as if they were trying to give off a threatening edge. Gus barely paid them any mind. The odd itch she’d felt before dissipated, the woods bringing her a guise of normalcy.
Silence pressed against her ears, the winds not causing a rustle. Gus looked around at multi-colored trees. All the leaves should have fallen weeks ago, but they all hung high—not dead, but not alive.
A low buzz spun around the woods, the sound now piercing. She stopped moving, heels digging into the dry soil. It had rained the night before, but any evidence of that event was gone now. When she began to think her journey had been for nothing, something moved. It was obvious that whatever that ‘something’ was believed she couldn’t see them. Gus decided to keep it that way. There was a tapping by her left ear, then her right, then back to her left—it reminded her of a nutcracker, or the weird snap the toy made when its teeth were smacked together. Or maybe it was more of a woodpecker sound but lower and lacking in speed. Thinking more about it, most likely it really sounded or resembled none of those things.
Gus turned to her left, then her right, then stared right in front of her. Whatever may had been there was gone, leaving her alone in the woodsy space. The girl was nowhere in sight, Gus’ blue jacket long gone, probably never to be seen again. There was something she couldn’t see, she’d just realized that a second ago, there was something she wasn’t supposed to see but was there. Now maybe it wasn’t, she couldn’t actually remember a thing.
Steading her breaths, Gus closed her eyes. There were splashes of pink and gold twinkling in the darkness. She squeezed them tighter to allow each color to brighten. Pink and gold, gold and pink. Pink, gold, and even orange if she focused hard enough.
There was something she wasn’t supposed to see. Gus remembered, she was supposed to be thinking about the thing she didn’t know about. Or maybe she’d made it up all along and there really wasn’t something to see, but to not see. She opened her eyes, posture slack with disinterest; but her gaze shifted, causing a straining ache to run through each ear. Gus waited. A movement happened again, or possibly for the first time, she couldn’t remember. Now, where she’d assumed to meet a person or animal, Gus was met with a rainshower of leaves. It sounded almost human, as if a child was running across the ground. Unnervingly innocent— If innocence held a noise. Gus sharply moved towards the corruption, not giving a care for her hair or clothes as she stepped into the shower. The leaves felt sharp, each one moving at an unnatural pace towards the ground.
When it stopped, she expected to be met with more of the woods and a pile of dead leaves under her feet. Maybe even a bleeding scalp. That would have been normal. Boring and predictable, but normal nonetheless.
Instead the leaves were gone, and Gus was staring down a long hall. Though, calling it a hall felt wrong, no word she could imagine captured the sight in front of her. Her heart pounded, filling the space eerily. The ceiling was towering so high above her that it miswell not have been there at all. Even with the height of it, Gus could make out details. Each stone gave the illusion of being holographic; carved with details that reminded her of every piece of art she’d ever seen and nothing at all. It was all meaningless to her, the triangular shapes following no pattern she could understand.
The floor was an entourage of colors, they molded together with a perfection no human hand could replicate. Gus lost herself in the sight, and as she took in the full picture it appeared as if the floor was slanting downwards.
Taking a few steps, she found it was completely straight. Not even a dent. Gus’ gaze trailed to the doors. They were boring. Some had terrible paint jobs, there were ones with chipped handles. Some doors hovered high on the wall while others almost sunk into the floor. The spacing between each one didn’t follow any structure she could pinpoint. The two to her left were pressed close, actually overlapping which was an image that caused her brain to twitch. On her right she noticed three doors with extremely large gaps between them. Distanced with intention.
Above each door was a pillar, they sprung high towards the ceiling with an air of intimidation.
The hall was long, unending, but the doors appeared to be continuously repeating themselves.
Gus glanced behind herself; but was only met with a blank wall, no colors or holographic shapes, just an off white slab of nothing. She walked forward, wincing each time her foot scoffed against the ground. It didn’t matter how far Gus moved, the surroundings never changed, the end of the hall was pitch black, almost appearing to be hiding from her.
The door to her right caused Gus to stop. It was just an inch smaller than the others, slimmer as well. Gus gazed her eyes over it, taking in the perfectly white paint and perfectly gold handle. The door was cheaply made, that fact was obvious enough. It most likely popped out of a suburban home that held a newly rich family. Apparently money couldn’t buy artistic taste. Or maybe money killed artistic taste. Too much money, too many options, better to stick with simplicity.
She stepped forward and gripped the handle, surprised to find it didn’t hold any temperature she could identify. Gus pushed the door open. She didn’t have to take a step inside before the world around her began moving.
It was a bedroom. Though, not completely finished. Around the room was a dark void, no color or ending insight. It was as if the room had been dropped into the middle of nothing.
The girl. Gus knew her, she must have known her, they’d only spoken a few minutes ago; but she didn’t, she couldn’t recall a single word they’d said to one another.
Gus didn’t say anything, based on where the girl’s eyes landed just past her, Gus doubted she was visible. Trying to keep her trembling hands controlled, she waited. The girl looked almost frozen, and she might have been able to convince herself she was if it wasn’t for the quick blinking.
As she looked closer, Gus noticed the cordless phone she held. Her grip was tight, and Gus feared the object would snap under her touch.
“Louise, there is food in the fridge I won’t be back until—“
She paused it. Then replayed the voicemail.
“Louise, there is food in the fridge I won’t be back—“
Then again.
“Louise, there is food in the fridge—“
And again.
“Louise, there is food—“
“Louise…”
It went on and on. Not once did her expression change. Gus knew this girl, she had to know her. She knew who she was and yet the memories were blank, having gone cold. Gus wanted to speak out, to say the words I know you, but they stayed stuck within her.
Gus glanced around the room. It didn’t seem like a space decorated by a teenage girl.
The walls were blue, the color dark and needing a touchup. Her bed seemed like it was plucked out of a hotel, the sheets tugged tight and ironed with an unsettling perfection. On the wall was a picture. It was an ocean during a storm, waves crashing high and meeting the lightning. It stopped there, the painting not continuing and letting them know what the explosion caused. In the corner of the painting was a group of three. They seemed tired, staring at the shattered world without attempting to run.
“Louise, there is food in the fridge. I won't be back until two this afternoon. If you need to eat without me, that's fine, don’t wait up!”
Gus turned back to the girl, noticing the tears slipping down her cheeks. She took a step Forward. She knew this girl, she knew her name.
“Louise,” Gus breathed out, letting the word sit on her tongue. Louise had her blue coat.
A panic ran through her when their eyes finally locked. There was no shock or fear on the girl’s face, her sadness now gone.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”