5 a terrible day

After Elijah's flawless performance, the weight of my nerves truly hit me.

I am next. I will be performing in front of judgmental artists, themselves with years of talent and experience. A cold chill goes through my spine. What if I mess up? What if I fumble over the keys and make a fool out of myself? I can't possibly lose to Valentine, of all the people? How can I ever face him again?

"Ms. Whitaker, you're next.", Mr. Henry says.

"Yes, sir.", I say, and walk onto the stage, my legs wobbly.

"Introduce yourself with the piece you'll be playing, please.", Mr. Henry says, smiling encouragingly.

"Hi everyone, my name is Lena and I'll be playing 𝘜𝘯 𝘚𝘰𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘰 by 𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘻𝘵.", I say, managing to steady my voice.

Fresh adrenaline pumps through my body, hyper-aware of every appreciative nod amongst the other participants. I take in a deep breath, and walk to my seat, in front of the piano. I sweep my hand over the keys, getting a feel of the weight of the keys. I calm myself, or at least to the best of my ability. What's the worst that could happen?

With that in mind, I begin playing, deliberately slowly at first, building up-tempo at the chorus. I play, the notes embedded deep in my brain, so much so that I could play it blindfolded. The vibrations from the heavy keys producing sound, that some call music, was oddly calming, my mind far, far away from the irrational anxiety I felt before I began playing.

As I finish playing, my head feels light-headed, applause filling the air. The adrenaline had left lingering pangs of pain in my then wobbly legs. I wake up from the trance that playing the piano had induced in me. I shake my head once, to clear my eyes from the black spots appearing in my eyes. I smile brightly and give a half, very awkward bow.

I lift my eyes, my eyes automatically trying to find Elijah. I find him, seated beside Mr. Henry, both smiling appreciatively. He pouts sarcastically and mouths, "I bet your ass, Whitaker." I raise an eyebrow, and mouth back, "You wish." and walk off the stage, with confidence that I lacked before I performed. Maybe I do deserve that spot in the orchestra.

I watch the last two artists perform, all from the opposite wings, too embarrassed to face Valentine. I clap hard upon seeing a wonderful performance of 𝘓𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢. Jennie played 𝘉𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘯's 𝘊𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰 𝘚𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘢, and she is truly so talented, to the point that I got chills. I'm pretty sure I saw Mr. Henry wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. Jennie reached the auditorium just before I started playing, I remember seeing her smile from the row behind Mr. Henry. I assume she was late due to taking care of her sick mother. Mr. Henry and his wife are split up, according to the rumors going around. Jennie herself has mentioned that she lives with her mother, providing her with basic medical assistance while she's at it, and she visits Mr. Henry during the weekends.

According to what Mother says, a divorced family always brings up a broken child. But Jennie is a living contradiction to Mother's judgmental statement, her talent easily surpassing every single participant tonight. She truly is amazing. Anyways, Mr. Henry informs us that the results will be put up in front of the music room and that everyone did a wonderful job tonight.

Everyone begins to pack up and leave. I search for Jennie and Elijah, wanting to congratulate them both, on a wonderful performance, but they both were nowhere to be found. I walk up to my seat, to retrieve my things when I feel someone watching me. I turn around and find no one. I shrug off the feeling and continue stuffing my coat into the bag. Maybe the remainder of tonight's nerves is still haunting me. Surely I'm just paranoid? I look around, just one another time, to confirm that it was just my imagination.

I'm so utterly tired, to the point I'm hallucinating.

I should go get some sleep.

**********************************

10th September 1970

Thursday

I haven't seen Jess since yesterday.

When I knocked on her door this morning, her father told her that she'd left earlier this morning. Now that's odd. One, she's never early to school, and secondly, she'd never go anywhere, especially this early in the morning without telling me. This feels like the beginning of a horror film and I'm genuinely terrified for her.

If she doesn't show up by evening, I'm going to visit the superintendent's office. I walk to school, still unnerved by Jess's early disappearance. It's not like she has never left anywhere without informing me, but this is so out of character for her. She sleeps late, like midnight kind of every night. There's no possible way she left the house before seven, considering how she sleeps like the dead.

As I walk, I feel someone's eyes watching me, as if they're following my every move. I look around to find no one, but the urge to run was stronger than ever. I compose myself. Why am I letting my paranoia get to me? It's not like I'm in a dark alleyway with no one around. The street is bustling with people on their way to work, and besides, I live in the suburbs, what's the worst that could happen?

I reach school, a few minutes later than usual, sighing. A school day without your bestie is just straight-up depressing.

The rest of the day passes without any interesting events, my mind rather lazily comprehending the lessons. I go through the motions, and life seems to be relatively normal for a while, well that was until lunch of course. The last person I wanted to interact with today was Elijah. Not just because of yesterday's very embarrassing turn of events, [not really I just didn't want to talk to him] but because I'm way too tired and jumpy for me to banter with that dumbass.

I slide into my usual seat in the cafeteria, slamming the tray onto the table, tired for no particular reason. The cafeteria food genuinely sucks. Like it's worse than hospital food. I glance at the mashed potatoes, the gooey vomit-like stuff making me lose my appetite. Valentine walks down casually and sits in the chair beside me, leaning back in the chair.

"Do you want to go check who beat whose ass?", he says, his arms behind his head. His shirt lifts the slightest bit, revealing a tanned and muscular V-line.

"Hey stop ogling me and answer the question, babe.", he says, waving his hands in front of my face.

I feel my face turn hot. I presume that I'm the color of tomatoes and trust me, blotchiness does not look attractive on me. "You aren't that attractive, Valentine. Besides I am so not in the mood for our arguments, can we have this sometime later?" I say, laying my head on the cold plastic table, my back aching. I think I'm close to getting my menstrual cycle, considering the backache.

"Hey, what happened, babe, this isn't like you? Do you need anything? Food, or maybe some water?", Elijah asks, his voice sounding genuinely concerned? I never knew mister rich jerk could show compassion. Love this side of him. I moan in pain, my back feeling hot rods are being twisted beside my spine. I don't reply to him, the pain taking over my brain. Never have I ever had such painful cramps, this is most definitely a first.

I hear him leave, probably frustrated with my actions. However, that's the last thing on my mind right now. Today has been stressful, to say the least. Jess didn't come to school, she vanished into thin air, my back is killing me, almost literally [at least it felt like it], my history teacher just assigned a twenty-page handwritten assignment to be submitted by tomorrow. The stress of it all just felt too much at the moment, and I just began crying. Not noisily, I would've died of embarrassment, but I just couldn't control my tears from falling down my cheeks, onto the table.

I think I fall asleep sometime during that, the pain and stress, just overwhelming. I wake up to the sound of the bell ringing, signifying that lunch was over. I open my eyes, my head feeling lead. I see a pair of green eyes staring right into mine. I scream, shocked at the proximity of the face. Elijah's face smiles at my shock and keeps a small carton of chocolate milk and banana next to me, his face lined with concern.

"Eat. It'll ease the pain. My little sister enjoys these when she's on her period..", he says, smiling.

"Get well soon, roach girl, I can't wait to see who won.", he says, and leaves, not looking back once.

I look at his receding figure, confused at his grand-ish gesture.

Maybe he isn't that bad after all.

**********************************

Before leaving school for the day, I decided that it'd be best that I check the results of the audition. It had given me copious amounts of anxiety, so surely my performance must've been good? [referencing to what my piano teacher often says]

I lug my backpack, which usually feels light, but my backache making it feel like it's filled with rocks. I reach Mr. Henry's door and take in a deep breath. Whatever the result may be, I promise I won't regret the quality of my performance. I did my best and that's all that matters. [prodigal philosopher ;p] Valentine suddenly walks out the room, his hands in his jean pockets.

"Congrats, Whitaker.", he says simply and walks away.

Joy bubbles in my stomach. I got the position! I got it! I stand there unbelieving. I have to admit, Elijah was a great competition. He is talented. I sigh. Now that one anxiety-inducing event is over, my mind feels lighter. Next, I have to find where Jess is. I checked her house multiple times, and her parents replied that she never came home and that they had thought she was at school. I informed them that she wasn't here either and that she'd never even shown up to school. Her parents begin panicking, and they weren't the only ones. Where had she gone?

I console her parents, telling them that I'd go and file a case with the superintendent. I panicking like crazy, I sprint to his office, terrified as to what happened to Jess. Maybe she had been kidnapped and tortured... Oh no, I can't even process this. I reach the office, panting. I open the door, sweat pouring down my back. [it was a hot afternoon okay?]

"Sir, my friend has gone missing and I don't know what has happened. She's been gone since this morning and it's so out of character for her. I'm not sure what to do, please help us!", I say, my hands on the assistant's table, my voice as assertive I can get it to be.

"Ma'am please calm down, and recount the details as clearly as possible.", he says.

"My friend, Jess, is missing since this morning, around half past six, according to her parents, and she hasn't been seen since then. Her parents are worried and so am I.", I say, speaking fast.

"Ma'am I beg you to calm down. I need an adult here. Preferably Jess's father. Please bring him here and we can file a missing complaint.", he says.

"Yes, yes, I should've thought about that. Damn it! I ran all the way here for nothing.", I mutter.

I sprint back, trying to calm myself. Jess is okay. She just went away for a bit, maybe to clear her mind. It's going to be okay. I keep saying this, repeating it over and over, like some sort of mantra.

"Mrs. Smith, can you please call on Mr. Smith? The assistant is insisting that he be there, that an adult's signature is required.", I say, panting due to the run.

"Oh, of course, I'll telephone his office, give me a minute, Lena.", she says, her eyes red, as if she had been crying. She goes in the turning of the dial loud enough to be heard outside. I wait in the suffocating humidity, the afternoon sun steadily blazing on my bare shoulders, the beginnings of a sunburn on my cheeks and arms.

"He'll be there in twenty, Lena. Come in for a bit, I'll make you a cup of coffee.", Mrs. Smith says.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Smith. A coffee would be too generous of you, water would suffice.", I say politely.

She nods, her sadness visible in her eyes. "Please make yourself comfortable.", she says, turning her head away from me. I see her swiftly wipe her cheeks, her voice breaking at the last word. I could only imagine how painful it must be to see your daughter missing.

I sit on the couch, anxiously waiting for something to happen. I've read in the news about how people kidnap high school girls and do terrible things to them. I'm frightened that something of that sort has happened to Jess. I pace the living room, calculating all that could've happened. I did remember thinking that someone was following me yesterday. But how could that possibly be related to Jess's disappearance?

Mrs. Smith comes back with a glass of milk, instead of the water I had asked for. Before I could refuse her politely, a series of banging ensues on the front door. I and Mrs. Smith look into each other's faces in alarm, the same thing going through both our minds. What if it was related to Jess's disappearance? Terrified, I go near the handle of the door, Mrs. Smith rushing to go get a baseball bat. That's when I hear a woman's voice scream at the top of her lungs, her breath unsteady.

"Please..Pl...Please help me?! HELP!!" she keeps screaming, banging on our door loudly. I look at Mrs. Smith uncertainly, confused as to whether I should open the door or not. Mrs. Smith nods affirmatively. Upon seeing her permission, I readily open the door, concerned about the woman. The woman in question is none other than our Jess. We were unable to recognize her. Blue bruises covered her face and body, her cheekbones highlighted purple. Mrs. Smith rushes to hug her, in relief that her daughter is alive. Jess yelps in pain, as her mother brings her hand over her shoulders. I look at her concernedly, glad that she's here now.

"Does it hurt so much? Where does it hurt? Show me, I'll take you to our doctor. You need to get checked if there are any broken bones or if you sprained something..?" Mrs. Smith asks, her voice and face laced heavily with worry. "I'm okay, mom. It's just some bruises, I'll be fine, I promise.", Jess says, her voice hoarse from screaming.

Her mother nods anxiously, still looking at her doubtfully. Jess's eyes met mine, her eyes filled with pain. "Mrs. Smith, I do trust Jess, but do take her to the doctor. She looks like she's in pain.", I say, glancing at her mother. Her mother nods when Jess opens her mouth and says weakly, "I'm fine, Lena."

"Jess, I don't want to argue with you regarding this. Your health is our priority. Where were you all this time? We were really worried you know.", I say, my voice filled with emotion.

"A man.", she chokes. She takes her time, clearing her throat, her eyes tearing up in anxiety. "He uh- He covered my mouth with some cloth, when I..", she stutters once, "I had gotten up early to take a walk. I was nauseous today morning and I thought I..", she swallows. "I thought that a walk would make me feel better. That terrible man took me to some dark, dingy place. I feel like I've been there before. The smell was familiar.", she recollects more clearly.

"The man, he sounded old, like not grandfather old, maybe like a late-middle-aged old. He had a beard, a huge one. It kept grazing my cheeks when he leaned to..", she trails off. "He hit me multiple times, saying that what I did was wrong and that I should tell my friend to stay away from some boy. Lena, do you have any boyfriends? He kept saying that the boy doesn't deserve my friend.", she asks, confusion visible clearly in her eyes.

"No.", I gulp, "No I don't, if I did you would know, Jess.", I say.

"Oh, okay then", she says thoughtfully. "That man hit me so much, he hit my face, saying that he was picturing me like that "blonde bitch", and that if you didn't have a pretty face, that.. that you'd never be such a..", she pauses, looking at me, worried how I'd take it. She whispers, "a whore.", her voice filled with sadness.

Mrs. Smith looks at me sadly, and says, "Don't listen to that crap, Lena. You too, Jess. I'm grateful to have such beautiful daughters. Come here.", she says, beckoning us both. Her warm and soft arms enclose both me and Jess, a tight hug to comfort both of us. All of us begin crying at some point, patches of tears on all our shoulders. I cry too, touched that Mrs. Smith, considers me as one of her daughters.

"All that matters is that you're home safe, Jess. And thank you so much for your help, Lena. Jess is honestly blessed to have such a beautiful and loyal friend like you.", Jess's mother says. "Of course, Mrs. Smith, she's my best friend. I'd do anything for her.", I say, my words heavy with emotion. I look at Jess, and she smiles softly.

I help Jess settle into her bed. Mrs. Smith stays down to call her husband, to say that Jess is back safe, but not fine. She also promised me that she'd book an appointment with their family doctor. I thank her, for her hospitality and for being a very supportive mother. She had asked for a painkiller, explaining that the bruises on her back were painful. Jess drowsily looks at me, tired, her eyes half-closed.

"You know, my mom's right. I am grateful to have a friend like you.", she says.

"I'm so sorry, Jess, you went through all this because of me. I am sorry. I don't know what or why that man did those horrible things to you, but I promise I'll find out and make him pay.", I say, anger boiling within me.

Jess nods once, and her eyes closed. I wrap her body in a warm blanket, ensuring she's tucked in comfortably. As I turn to leave, Jess says in a tiny voice, " He tried to rape me. That man." My heart shatters, guilt taking over every limb in my body.

I begin sobbing, repeating over and over, about how sorry I am. Jess by then had fallen into a deep sleep, and I was left alone to deal with it on my own.

At that moment I decided, fueled by my anger and guilt.

I am so going to make that terrible man pay.