As Hazel sat outside of a dressing room in one of the many department stores she had been in that day, she was almost welcoming death to come and take her away from the misery which was the local mall. Sure, the place was crowded. Sure, the sales people took one look at her and shunned their noses right in her face. Sure, she was bored out of her mind and had seen Karen try on everything and then some in the entire building. But those weren’t the things that were truly irritating her.
She hated shopping so much, frankly, because no matter what she tried on, 100 percent of the time she could barely afford any of it. It didn’t bother her normally, that hand-me-downs provided the bulk of her wardrobe. She didn’t think the clothes made the person. It was only when she was with Sita and Karen that the effects of her economic status became startlingly clear. She envied them, how their touch could practically turn anything they wanted into gold, how whatever they desired they could have in a heartbeat.
For some reason, today she was especially effected by that.
She wanted. There was no limitation to what she wanted, what she craved, she just wanted it all. Everything she had never had, all the things she was only able to look at, never own. When moments like those came around, her will became so strong to just have that she almost thought that she should blow that months rent money and just purchase something, anything. Most of the time she could restrain herself, but there was an occasion where she would forget her senses and buy. That’s how she got into her latest quarrel with her landlady.
“Hazel?”
She glanced up and saw Sita coming out of one of the dressing rooms. “Yea?”
“What are you doing just sitting here?” her friend asked, taking a seat next to her. “Aren’t you going to try anything on?”
“Nothing here interests me,” she mumbled.
“I’m sure we can find you something.” Sita stood up and offered her hand, which Hazel slowly took. “There’s a ton of stuff I saw that would look great on you.”
“I don’t know. This stuff is kind of pricey.”
“Their having a sale today,” she said, already heading towards the middle of the store, searching the racks for the appropriate outfit. Hazel watched helplessly as Sita rummaged through the expensive clothing, to embarrassed to say anything to stop her. “This is the one.”
Hazel took the hanger that was offered to her, trying to look for the price tag without making it to obvious. She couldn’t see it. “It’s nice.”
“What’s going on?” Karen asked, approaching them with already a handle of clothes draped over her shoulder. “Hey, that’s cute.”
Hazel tried her best to smile. “Thanks.” She glanced down, but soon noticed how two eyes stared at her, waiting. “Oh. I should try it on then.”
“That is the next step in the process,” Karen joked. “You must let me see it when you’re done.”
“Me too. Here, let me show you to the changing room.” Sita led the way towards the back of the store and a woman directed Hazel to a dressing room that looked better than her own apartment.
With a loud sigh she undressed and took the outfit delicately off the hanger, afraid if she were to touch it to harshly she would have to pay some sort of wrinkling charge. Slipping the plain black, yet clearly expensive dress over her head she zipped it up quickly and then took a look at herself in the mirror.
If she hadn’t known who she really was, she would have mistaken her for someone who was actually worth the time of day, worth the air she wasted by breathing. It was really incredible the transformation one could go through by just a simple black dress. The material was soft on her skin, sleek and nicely fit, and it seemed as if the word “rich” had been sown in with the rest of the threads. She couldn’t shake the feeling of how wrong it was for her to be wearing it.
“Haze? Hello? Did you get lost or something putting it on?”
“Karen, shut up,” Sita snapped from outside the dressing room. “Haze, is everything ok?”
“Fine.” She opened the door and stepped out nervously. “What do you think?”
The two girls exchanged glances, and Sita smiled widely. “You look great. That dress is perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
“You almost look as good as me,” Karen said with a smile of her own. “Almost.”
“Coming from you, I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Hazel took another glance at herself in the mirror. “I don’t look right in stuff like this.”
Sita came up from behind her and started straightening the bottom of the material. “That dress fits you as if it were made for you.”
“You definitely have to buy it,” Karen said.
Buy it. That was always the problem of the situation, of her life. “Where would I wear something like this?”
“I’ll throw a party just so you can wear it,” Karen replied. “Or wear it to a club or something. You would drive all the guys wild.”
“Do you not like it?” Sita asked. “You don’t have to get it. I won’t mind.”
“No, I like it.” Sita did have impeccable taste and Hazel suddenly had a burning need to purchase the outfit. To just have one thing that would be comparable to the millions of things Sita had was all she could think about then. It was like she was going to impress Sita, to finally live up to the expectations her friend had for her by getting the dress and she couldn’t think of something she had ever wanted more than to be worthy of being Sita’s friend. She never did care what anyone thought about her, but Sita was like a goddess of some sort that Hazel had to have the approval of.
“Well?” Karen pressed, checking her watch. “If you’re going to get it then let’s hurry. There’s a lot more stores we have to hit and not enough time to do it in. Remember, I still need that purse.”
“The purse that will certain whether you should live or die?” Sita asked in a mocking tone.
Karen flashed a smile. “Glad you remembered.”
“I’ll be quick,” Hazel muttered as she walked back to the dressing room. Before she changed out of the dress she checked inside her purse, making sure she still had the money she had gotten that day when she cashed her paycheck. The only money she had. When she saw it still waited there for her to spend it, she got out of the dress and hung it back on the hanger, ready to be purchased.
For some reason she couldn’t get a sinking feeling out of her throat.
~~
“Call her again.”
Lance hung up the cell phone once more. “Get over it man! I’ve called her at least twenty times today and she isn’t home.”
Justin shoved the phone back in his hand. “Try again. She might have just stepped into the door.”
“No! Dude, you are starting to scare me.”
Justin let out an exasperated breath and shrugged. “It just seemed so right. You know, she being at the same club as us. You saving her from that guy.”
“Life isn’t a fairytale Justin. Sometimes you’ve got to just let things go.”
“Yea, I know. But, I mean, isn’t there something in this world that’s just meant to be?”
Lance didn’t have the heart to burst Justin’s optimistic but naďve view and so just nodded. “Some things are. I’m sure of it. Now you better go pack cause security will beat you senseless if you aren’t ready to leave in an hour.”
Justin cringed. “Packing…yay…you know how much I just love packing.”
“I know. That’s why I don’t want to detain you any longer from all the fun you are missing out on.”
Justin laughed and stood to go to his own room. “Whatever Lance. Just remember when you’re changing to put the shirt on forward next time.”
Lance grinned and watched his friend leave the room, more than likely avoiding his task of packing to irritate more of the crewmembers. Then his eyes landed on the piece of paper that rested next to him, the seven digits scribbled onto it with a black pen. He picked it up and brought it close to his face, giving each number a careful look and somehow remembering the moon from the last night. The memory of it’s glow decreased the dagger of loneliness that was lodged into his chest and for a minute all the endless thoughts left his mind and he merely existed.
“Oh well,” he sighed, blinking to get the image out of his eyes. He crumpled the paper in his hand and threw the ball towards the wastebasket. He didn’t wait to see if he had made the shot or not.
~~
When Hazel finally stepped out of Karen’s car, it was nearly midnight. Although they had told her that they would return home right after leaving the mall, Karen had ended up stopping constantly to do little chores or purchase some unnecessary item she saw a vendor selling on the street. Eventually the two girls grew hungry and they stopped to eat. Hazel had eaten nothing, telling them the excuse of having had a big lunch, but in truth having no money to purchase even a soda. The dress really had been expensive. She had thirty-six cents left in her purse.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Sita said, poking her head out of the passenger side window. “That really is a lovely dress.”
Hazel just grinned slightly and walked away without waiting to see the girls drive off. She felt as if she were going to be sick.
She glumly made her way inside the apartment building, making a short detour from the deteriorating flight of stairs to check her mailbox. There she found the ever-pleasant pile of monthly bills that she knew she wouldn’t be paying. If Sita were to call her, it better have been early. She closed the gold plated box and turned to go for the stairs, but froze in her place.
“Where have you been all day?” a large man asked, a chillingly wicked smile spread across his face.
“What are you doing here Jared?” she asked, trying to control her shaking voice. She had long since lost her fear of him, but something about his face was frightening her more than anything she could ever remember. “Shouldn’t you be puking your guts out by now?”
“That’s no way to speak to me after the way you behaved last night Hazel.” He took a step towards her and she reflexively took one back. “Where have you been?”
“Out,” she replied, trying to add some force behind the word but failing.
His smile evaporated. “I asked you a question.” Before she could even react he took 3 large, fast steps to her and took his customary hold of her hair. She gripped the bag in her hand. “Answer me!” She refused. He shook her head, hard. “Answer!”
She pushed at his chest to at least get him to loosen his grip a little and then raised her chin to him. “Go to hell.”
She never saw his large hand raise, but she felt it when it came in contact with her face, causing her head to snap to the side and a couple of hairs to be ripped from her scalp as he maintained his strong hold. The stinging was almost unreal and the salty taste of her own blood already reached her tongue. The pain had barely begun to take its real effect before she felt his hot, raged breath directly on her face.
“You are doing this to yourself, you know. If you weren’t so damn stubborn them maybe you wouldn’t make me so angry. Or are you really so stupid that you want me to hit you? Is that it? Answer me!” He shook her head again, more hairs being pulled free. She continued to ignore him. “Where were you? Were you with that guy from last night?”
She couldn’t believe the burning, throbbing agony her cheek was in. But she still wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Maybe she really was stubborn.
“I’ll get the answer out of you somehow,” he muttered, pure anger pouring out of his eyes. This time she saw his hand rise, the back of it, and closed her eyes as if to shield herself from the pain she was about to experience. This blow went without mercy and he put all of his weight and anger into it. He lost hold of her head and she fell to the floor where she rested, breathing heavily and trying to get the white and black flashes out of her vision. When she opened her eyes she coughed a couple of times and saw a few drops of her blood fall onto the floor, landing in a perfect circular shape. She stared at it, ignoring the pain for an instant to study the drops, fascinated by how red they were.
She didn’t get to see them for long, as his hand gripped her head again to pull her up. She thought he would banter her again with more talk, but the instant she was on her feet he held tightly onto her shoulders to place a hard punch directly on the side of her stomach and then another slap on her face. She fell to the floor again, on her knees, holding onto her waist. The bruise from the other night where he had hit her earlier still hadn’t faded and whatever agony she thought she had felt before that was faded from her mind. She thought she was dying.
She coughed again and more of her blood was spilled onto the floor, but his assault was not over. “No,” she whispered, as he took hold of her arm to literally pull her up from off of the floor. He mainly supported her now, since her legs were too weak to keep her from falling.
“Where did you go?” he asked again, shaking her. “Where?!”
She shook her lowered head sadly, and then looked up at him. She kept her eyes on his face for a long time and then finally she spit the blood that she had been containing in her mouth onto his face. “I hope you’re enjoying this,” she said hoarsely, “Because you will never have the joy of seeing me submit to you ever again.”
He let her blood drip on him, his hatred reddening his cheeks to an almost devilish color to match the liquid. He let her arms go and pushed her a step back, giving him room for his fists to go flying directly to her face. This time, when she hit the floor she almost blacked out as another heated rush raced to her already boiling head. She would have given anything to die at that moment, to be free from such horrible pain, but she remained living.
From a distance she heard his wretched voice.
“What do we have here?”
She held onto the bag she still gripped as if her whole life depended on it. She wouldn’t let him have it. He placed his heavy foot on her wrists and only needed to apply a little pressure to have her release it. Dizzily, she made herself open her eyes and looked up to see that he already held her dress in his grip.
“You went shopping? How can you afford this?” He bent down to shove his face into her own. “Did he buy it for you? You bitch.”
In complete horror she watched as he prepared to tear the material. “No!” she screamed, finding a new strength within her. She quickly stood and jumped on him, scratching on his face and doing any other damage she thought she could do to him in order to save her dress.
She was no match for him though, especially in her weakened state, and he pulled her off as if she were a mere annoyance. Small red scratches mingled in with the blood that was still on his face and they would leave tiny marks, but that was all. She had only managed to make him more angry. “You really are stupid, aren’t you?” he said in a mocking tone. Without hesitating he took the dress and ripped it, the sound piercing her ears as if the cloth were crying for her to save it. But she couldn’t move anymore.
He tossed the dress to the side and then took hold of her once more. She was ready to pass out now, and clung limply to him for support. His large fist wrapped around her neck and she was suddenly thrust against the wall, her head slamming into it and causing another wave of red to come over her. He started to choke her.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, pushing into her. Her arms flailed around her, trying desperately to get some air to her lungs but it was as if his fist had turned into solid rock.
“Please,” she tried to mouth, but couldn’t.
“You should have answered my question.” Finally a look of sheer pity entered his gaze and he released her, watching as she fell directly to the floor. She took in lungfulls of that blessed air, although her breathing pattern was slightly weezed due to the blows she had received earlier. She felt something wet touch her cheek and knew that more blood was pouring out of her nose now and making a nice puddle on the already stained floor.
“Don’t think this is over,” she heard him say, and then a door closed.
She wasn’t sure how long she lay on that floor, but wasn’t surprised that no body in her building had come out of their apartments to help her. After several minutes she was able to lift herself up and crawl over to the black material that lay dead on the floor. Each movement she made caused her intense misery, but she tried to push it all away and get to her torn dress. She picked it up gently, holding it as if it were a child, and then she made herself stand. The abuse she had taken hadn’t fully sunk in yet, her mind still erratic with useless thoughts. All she could focus on was getting to her apartment.
Luckily it was on the second floor, but that first flight of steps was some of the worse torture she had ever experienced. With heaved breaths was she able to finally make the last step and then hobbled pathetically over to her apartment.
A paper greeted her when she reached it. It was appropriately colored red.
It was an eviction notice. She was to evacuate her house that night because she hadn’t paid her rent in time.
She was surprised that Mrs. Riley had actually taken the time to put all of her belongings into a single, small box that rested by her door. Hazel couldn’t keep her eyes off of it, the last lingering part of her spirit broken by the sad thought that her whole life could be amounted and thrown into such a small box.
She didn’t stare at it long. Throwing the remains of her dress inside, she was able to lift the light box and make her way back down the stairs. She slowly left the building, taking her time to stop occasionally and catch a breath. The pain, she found, wouldn’t leave whether she was moving or not. Somehow she was able to stumble to the single payphone booth that stood at the end of her block. A small trail of her own blood marked her path.
When she reached the payphone, that’s when she got stuck. Who could she call?
Her family was out of the question. They wouldn’t have helped her, they didn’t have the money. Besides, she couldn’t recall anyone besides herself that even owned a phone. Karen was not an option either. She didn’t want to live with Karen, didn’t want to be dependent on her or feel as if she owed Karen later on. Karen was a friend, but she wasn’t that good of a friend.
Then, of course, there was Sita…
She couldn’t do it. Hazel didn’t think she could take it if she had to see Sita’s disappointed eyes on her, especially since that beautiful dress she had picked out specifically for her had now been ruined. Sita didn’t deserve having the burden of her thrust upon her.
What was she going to do?
That’s when a thought occurred to her. She searched her box that sat next to her and was relieved to find the piece of paper at the bottom. She took out thirty-five cents from her purse and gradually stood up to walk to the payphone. She put in the money and dialed the number, praying to anyone that happened to be listening that he answered.
“Hello?”
At first she was speechless, a happy wave of uncertainty rushing over her.
“Hello?”
She cleared her throat and spit out more blood. “Uh, Lance?”
“That’s me. Who is this? How did you get this number?”
“You gave it to me,” she said. “It’s Hazel.”
“Oh my gosh! Yea, hi. Sorry about that, you just sound a little different. What’s up with you? Are you ok?”
She licked her dry lips. “No, not really. You remember how you told me to call if I needed help?”
“Yes. Why? What happened?”
“I can’t...I can’t talk to you about it right now. I just need someplace to stay. You haven’t left New Orleans yet have you?”
“No, not yet. We are supposed to leave in like 10 minutes though.”
“Oh,” she muttered.
He hesitated for a second. “You know what, tell me where you are. I’ll come and get you.”
“What about your flight?” she asked.
“I’ll get one later. Are you at your home?”
She coughed. “Uh, yea. I’m at the phone booth right down the street.”
“Ok, I’m leaving right now. I’ll be there in 5 minutes.”
“All right.” She hung up the phone and stepped back outside, sitting next to her box again. She glanced around and noticed how the street was poorly lit, the only real light coming from the moon overhead. Funny how she had never noticed that before.
In a flash the entire night came back to her and the true effect of her wounds started to take it’s toll. She lay back, fearing she may throw up if she were to keep her sitting position, and closed her eyes. She hoped Lance came soon.