Stuck Here

Her freckles played tricks in the sun, they would disappear as the rays hit her face and reappear at the slightest dimming of light. They were her only distinguishable feature to those less than acquainted with her, and her best feature to those who were more so. Her mink colored hair fell shoulder length, as did most other girls' in the area. Her eyes chocolate, with honeydew flecks. Her well-worn hands shuffle through the mail as she enters the side door. As it swings open to the inside of the house, it slams into the wall, the doorknob fitting perfectly into a hole in the plaster. The doorstopper had long been pulled off by her cat Pearl, who enjoyed the finer things in life- catnip, mice, chewing cigarette butts and anything shiny he could fit in his mouth. She maneuvers through the piles of newspaper, clothes, laundry baskets, and moving boxes along a well-worn in path to the stairs.

The smell of smoke, feces and air freshener coated the air, a new unpleasant smell around every turn. She climbs down the stairs, only nearly missing a stray hairball, jumping over it at the last minute. The stairs filled out into a basement, which much like the upstairs was shoulder height filled with her step father’s precious treasures. She took the narrow side path to her room and closed the door, breathing the closest thing her house had to fresh air. Unlike the contents of her house, her room was clean; organized. She plopped down at her computer desk and tore open an odd letter with her name on it, expecting it to be bad news. It was always bad news.

“Congratulations! You, Imani Whets; online figure known as ShiningStarHope have been invited to this year’s Social Media Influencer Networking Event!”

She continues to skim the letter every line welling up an excitement she hadn’t felt in a long time. Before she is finished with the letter, she’s begun pulling out clothes, shoes, wigs. All the necessities of having a successful networking event as ShiningStarHope. She didn’t care where, when or for how long. As long as it’s far from Decatur County! Somewhere where you didn’t have to live with the possibility of stepping in farm animal dung every time you left the house. Somewhere where her friends DelCat301 and SuperSwish could meet up with her. Somewhere with Wi-Fi, so she could keep her streaming schedule, and preferably, good lighting for selfies.

She glances down, checking for a date. her body stills, two words bugging out at her, taunting her pulse.

“...weeklong cruise.”

Her arms went slack, dropping a hair curler onto her suitcase she’d pulled from under her bed. She could already feel the sway of the boat, the railing just a few inches too low. She could taste the saltwater on her upper lip, a bead of sweat bringing it to her tongue. The crashing waves against the edge of the boat. Peering down into the black watery depths. Her quaking hand gripping the paper.

Her vision went dark, closing her eyes and taking measured breaths. Her room was still, her breaths echoing off the bare walls, like the oceanic image she was trying to flee from. As thoughts of rushing water came back to her, she tried to push through with the image she had been hoping for before she read about the cruise. The networking, the fun, the friends, money... the fame.

If she reacted like this just thinking about it, there was no way she’d be able to attend. She’d get woozy, feint or get heart palpitations, they’d all see this and be able to deduce from her fear of water that her entire online persona is a lie, she lived in the middle of nowhere and was a nobody pretending to be somebody. Her whole façade would crumble, and that was by far her worst fear.

Her limbs felt heavy, her mind a tsunami of opposing thoughts. She re-reads the letter as she slowly puts her things away. Towards the end, there was an RSVP.

The letter dropped to the floor, and Imani climbed into her office chair she’d found at the local dump and began to reply to the invitation via email. The click of her mouse as she hit send was the last pebble to tip the scale. Salty tears danced down her cheeks, parachuting into her lap. Her view of her desk, her office space, fizzled as more tears filled her eyes. Her chest was tight, but her heart felt empty, as she thought to herself, “are things ever going to change for me?”