I don’t know how long I stand there. Minutes, hours? Long enough for a revolving door of girls to push past me, shove me aside to fix their makeup, stare at me as if I’m crazy.
I barely notice them. I’m stuck in my memories. Of everything I did.
Everything I ruined.
And suddenly, it’s all too much. I need to get out of here. I need air. I push out of the bathroom and elbow my way back across the dance floor, through the claustrophobic heat. The music is now too loud, screeching in my ears. The flashing lights too disorienting.
Limbs brush against mine. The closeness of other people feels sinister, like nails clawing at me, threatening to rip me to shreds.
My breath comes more and more shallow, and my temperature skyrockets. I need to get out of here.
I push and shove until I finally make it through the doors, gagging down gulps of hot evening air as I fall outside.
“Phoebe, you alright?”
The voice is familiar and a wave of emotion floods over me. “Hari?”
She’s standing next to a tall guy covered in tattoos, a cigarette dangling cooly from her fingers. “Phoebs, you’re not looking so good. I think we should get you back to your room.”
But suddenly, that’s the last thing I want. To be alone with my thoughts.
You’re disgusting.
“No. Where are they, the others?”
Hari takes a moment, tries to interpret my slurring. “I lost track of them. Why don’t you let me walk you back?”
“I’m going to…” I don’t bother finishing the sentiment. Instead, I stumble away, ignoring Hari’s pleas and narrowly avoiding the edge of the hostel’s pool.
The music from the bar slaps at my back as I continue towards what I think to be the beach. With every step, the party recedes, the dull thud of waves on sand replacing the rhythm of the speakers.
I stumble down a set of three wooden steps that transition the halfhearted landscaping of the hostel grounds into the beach, until my feet sink in the sand, grit already clinging to my toes. I walk until the water kisses them, my flesh massaged by the sea. And then an overwhelming exhaustion settles in my bones, so heavy and all-consuming that I drop to the ground, sand coating the plastic shrouding my body.
I close my eyes, and then I hear it.
My brother’s voice, again. As usual. And this time I know he’s right. I clamp my hands around my ears, but still it comes.
You thought you could fool them, make them love you. But it only took them a few weeks to see who you really are.
I put my hands over my ears, but his words still come, slippery and cruel.
You can’t just start over.
I throw myself upwards, running in what I think is the direction of the rooms. I want to collapse, to throw myself onto my mattress, stab my headphones in my ears and turn up my music as loud as it will go. Anything to drown him out.
As I run, my feet sliding over the silky sand, the voice comes back.
Why would any of them ever want to be around you? Even Claire is too good for you now.
And I know he’s right. I tried to convince them that I was this cool, take-no-shit woman. Someone who the guys wanted and the girls wanted to be like.
Little did they know.
The sob erupts out of me from somewhere deep and primal, stopping me in my tracks and bringing me to my knees. Dirt clings to my legs, and as I look around, I realize I have no idea where I am. I’m no longer on the beach, and judging by the silence, marked only by the soft call of a bird somewhere deep in the trees, I’m nowhere close to either the rooms or the party.
Panic floods through me, every thought and image coming in jagged pieces. I’m alone. And lost.
Until I hear it. The soft whisper of my name.Phoebe.
