Broen

Nine pm, after eleven and a half hours of class, Madi's Thursday was winding down. It was time for a shower, a long hot shower. She stood beneath the water, head hanging against her chest with eyes closed. Music filled the bathroom, Colin Hay's voice swimming between her ears as leaned sideways against the wall, unsure if the water on her face was tears or the shower. She sung along in a soft voice, the words half muttered.

"I drink good coffee every morning/comes from a place that's far away/and when I'm done I feel like talking/without you here there is less to say./I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy/What is closer to the truth/That if I lived til I was 102/I just don't think I'll ever get over you..."*

She sighed heavily as the song moved onto another, finishing the remainder of her shower quickly before getting out and shivering all the way back to her bedroom. It was then the phone rang, she sighed, quickly grabbing at the small bundle of screaming silver and picking it up without a thought cast towards checking the caller ID.

"Hello?" Her voice was irritated, her hands busy trying to juggle the phone and holding up her towel. There was silence "Hello?" The annoyance was building, and then that familiar rasp.

"Hey!" His exuberance could have fooled any stranger into believing that he was an old friend. Friend was not the word Madi would use, however. Teeth immediately grated, eyes staring at the wall with the determination to get off the phone unscathed.

"What do you want?" Her voice carried that distinctive growl that only crawled from her throat when she was at her angriest. Even with all the words he had said, the fists he had raised-and dropped, all the money he borrowed, he still wasn't entirely familiar with this mood. It was dangerous and unpredictable, when he thought of it, she was probably in the same boat he was. He could imagine her now, standing somewhere, staring blankly with a fire in those green eyes. Her jaw would be clenched tightly giving it a bit more definition, her body tense with her back arched in the most tantalizing fashion.

"What's with the hostility? I just wanted to see how you were." His answer was nonchalant. It drove her crazy, the way he acted. She wanted to hit something, anything, any one. She wanted to rage, to scream, to sob. Instead, she took a deep breath through her nostrils, and the spoke in a curt, measured tone.

"I'm great. For the rest of my life, I'll be great. If you're ever curious again, remember that I already told you how I am. You're not supposed to be calling me. Do it again, I WILL call the police. Don't think for a second that because you got off this time it will happen again. Lose my number. Understand me? Good." She hung up the phone before he could respond, throwing it on the bed before letting out a loud growl and changing.

Karl, FUCKING Karl. A fist rose and was then slammed into the wall. She grimaced as she felt the throbbing in her knuckles. He had spent two years letting her know how disposable she was and now he couldn't seem to just let her be.

Her anger was short lived as it gave way to tears. She sunk towards her bed, shoulders bouncing as she tried to cry in silence. Darren hearing her when he came in was the last thing she needed. And they would dry up in a minute. They always did. She just needed to breathe.

She closed her eyes, concentrating on her lungs. Expand, contract, push down. It had become her mantra over the course of the last year. In truth, aside from a few weak moments, she didn't feel at all anymore. It was beautiful, to not care, to laugh all the time. Maybe at first it had been a lie, but overtime the mask had absorbed her. There was very little that could get underneath her skin these days. Here it came, the familiar burn of tears denied. The ripping in the chest that would subside momentarily.

Eyes fluttered open, for a moment the world was blurred for a moment, and then came the sound of the front door slamming. She sighed, standing and pulling on the clothes she had set aside before quickly making her way to the bathroom to finish her make up. The only choice was to look as put together as possible. Maybe if she looked together, no one would ask otherwise.

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* Lyrics from "I Just Don't Think" by Colin Hay