Page 31 of Forbidden Flesh

“Look at her. She wanted it.”

I jolt awake, a strangled gasp tearing through the silence, a scream clawing its way up my throat, threatening to choke me. I cough, desperate for air, my hands frantically wiping at the imagined moisture on my neck. My fingertips come away damp—not from sweat but from the tears that have carved paths down my cheeks.

It was only a dream.

For the first three months, I had them every day. I was glad I wasn’t in my room, or my parents would hear my screams.

I look around and see the rough plastic that makes the interior walls of the trailer. I scrubbed them the best I could the first day, but the yellow sheen still bleeds through.

It smells like grass and leaves from the small opening of the vent I left open to let the cool breeze in.

My throat is sore. I must have been screaming because it feels like I swallowed rocks.

I open the small fridge I bought on sale at Walmart for twenty-five bucks with the blue Pepsi logo on it. It doesn’t hold much, but I don’t have much.

I kneel and look out the small window to see if anyone is outside. I used to love scary movies and watched them whenever I was bored and home alone. Funny how you stop watching them when you live like you’re in a set on one.

When I slept in my car, I imagined a serial killer dragging me out and mutilating me. When I slept in the trailer for the first time, I thought a man with a mask would come and get me with a butcher knife. The jitters set in, like the first night. I look left and right, and the branches sway, followed by the chirping of crickets. A coyote howls, probably because of the full moon.

I’m peering out the window for a minute or two when my phone rings. I look over at the bright screen lighting up. I reach over and answer, placing it on the speaker, then wait for my brother to speak.

“Hello, Melody?”

“I’m here.”

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Silence.

“Umm, how are you? How’s school?”

Your rich friend wants to fuck me.

“It’s good. Everyone is nice.”

“Listen, um… I wanted to ask if you could come and watch me play on Friday. It’s our first game, and I really want you to be there.”

I sit and pull my knees up. “Um…”

“Mom and Dad can’t go. They have this thing they have to go to for Dad's work, and I thought?—”

I close my eyes. They will be there. I want to kick myself for telling Adam that the whole Zack thing was in the past. It was a stupid high school mistake. I left the house for this reason. So they wouldn’t find me. At Kenyan, they would be too busy with practice and school to show up on campus. There’s security. There is…Valen.

“Melody?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here.”

“Will you go?”

My hands are sweating and shaking. All my saliva has dried up in my mouth. I feel hot and cold. My vision blurs, and I can hear my heart pounding. The beginning of a panic attack.

I started getting them after that night. I googled the symptoms after the third time they came around. I usually get them when I’m alone or when something triggers them. A sweaty odor from a locker room or a gym. The smell of spit or a man when he sweats. The dark.

I read there was medication doctors prescribed for it, but I can’t go to the doctor. I don’t have my insurance card, and it would mean I would have to ask my parents for it, which I refuse. I close my eyes, hoping it’s a quick one this time.

“Melody, are you alright?”

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