I often try to have a meaning behind my stories, and in truth I wrote this one after wondering what other teenagers were doing when I was busy being a weirdo writing poetry on her jeans, but the aim is that you see the world through the eyes of someone who’s lost and desperately trying to feel something good.
Not that my short story ‘Molly’ full encompasses every teenager (much less all teenagers in Phoenix), but I know that for some of them this story is very real (or at least exists in my head).
You can start the whirlwind experience of ‘Molly’ here but to find out how it all ends pick up a copy of ‘Everyone Dies: Tales from a Morbid Author’ which includes 21 pieces of short fiction in which someone either physically, emotionally, or spiritually dies including never before published pieces like ‘After The Fire’ and fan favorites like ‘The Silencer’. Available here
by Melissa Algood
The neon-orange glow at the tip of the joint was all that existed.
“Get back in here, Jason!” Aaron yelled. “It’s the best part of the movie! Ya know, where the baby is crawling on the ceiling!”
“You’re a sick fuck. This isn’t the best part of the movie.”
“This isn’t film theory, Lizzie.” Aaron inhaled deeply, the fire on the tip of his fingers burning so bright she could see the outline of his chiseled jaw.
He brushed his long blond hair out of his eyes and passed the joint to Lizzie. As she came down, she didn’t fall flat on her face, but drifted like a feather to the bottom of the valley.
“Ugh! We’re out of beer!” Maya pulled away from Jason just long enough to call from the kitchen.
“Wanna go for a ride, baby?” Aaron arched an eyebrow at Lizzie, his dark eyes shining.
Jason’s dad had a black BMW, perfect for an evening jaunt, so they all loaded up and headed out. Lizzie didn’t know anything about cars, but this one had heated leather seats and a badass speaker system. Every thump of the bass line hit her like a hammer. So she closed her eyes and let the night wash over her as she smoked her cigarette attempting to avoid barfing. Needless to say, this car was a vast improvement over Aaron’s junker. He’d wrapped that old tin can around a light pole last winter.
“Hey, aren’t the Millers in Sedona for the weekend?” Maya piped up from the backseat, tangled in Jason’s grip, like always. .
Aaron made a sharp left toward the house, swerving onto the curb, and hit a stop sign. The pole skimmed the side of the car.
They all yelled at once, and then they giggled.
At last, they parked next to the brightly colored house. Aaron used the bobby pin from Lizzie’s hair to pop the lock. The four of them stumbled into the house. Maya danced around the entryway, spinning Lizzie with her. The boys went to the fridge in the garage where they knew the beer would be.
“The – Millers – Have – A – Pool!” Lizzie stressed every word to Maya.
The girls stopped spinning and ran toward the backyard with squeals of glee. They tumbled out of their clothing, leaving on only their bras and panties. Maya dove into the pool like an Olympian. Even faced out as she was, Maya still had the grace of a ballerina.
When Lizzie dove, every molecule of water kissed her skin, every ripple felt as if she’d been taken out to sea. It seemed as if it took years for her to touch the bottom and pop back up laughing. Aaron and Jason rushed to the edge and began taking off their shoes, shirts, and pants.
“Mind if we join?” Jason asked the girls, right before cannon balling into the pool.
Drops of water shot up into the sky, a prism that glittered in the moonlight, enchanting Lizzie. The four of them floated on their backs, looking up at an unending ocean of stars.
“This water feels so… cooool,” Jason whispered.
“Yeah! Beautiful.” Lizzie heard her voice say, but couldn’t feel her lips move.
Maya swam toward Jason. They melted into each other.
Lizzie remembered the last time she was in this house. She paddled over to Aaron. “Come on. I wanna show you something.”
Somehow she was able to coax him out of the water. Maybe he eagerly followed her upstairs because she sucked on his index finger.
The room was exactly as she remembered from when Mr. Miller, her coach, brought her here after practice. Midnight black silk sheets, red walls, and the massive headboard. Lizzie couldn’t stop to analyze the last time she was there.
Every nerve in her body ached for the safety of Aaron. All she knew was his tongue running along her collarbone, melting her like butter. He picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his toned frame and let herself fall into the feather bed. Every touch of his lips on her skin was like an explosion. In her sixteen years, she had no better way to explain it other than, awesome.
It felt like hours that they spent tangled in those sheets, which the housekeeper had so impeccably tucked into the king size bed. When Lizzie looked at the clock, it had only been ten minutes.
“Hey bitch!” Lizzie heard the roar. “Gabby just texted me about a rave! It’s in an abandoned house on 4th. Stop fucking and get down here!” Maya’s voice echoed in the house.
Lizzie and Aaron redressed once they got back to the pool where they had left their clothes. Before leaving, they raided the fridge, pantry, and medicine cabinet. Everyone hopped into the newly stolen Jaguar and drove into the night, leaving behind the banged up Beemer.
Lizzie’s story isn’t over yet-to read the rest of her wild night download ‘Everyone Dies: Tales from a Morbid Author’ on Amazon here
If you or anyone you know has a substance problem then may I recommend you visit Narcotics Anonymous