Vulnerable

 

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Chapter 2

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Her skin itched.  Millions of transparent bugs were running along her spine to the tops of her shoulders, down her breasts and arms in a rampant rage.  Her hands tried to keep up with each irritation, and eventually her flesh was rubbed so badly to the point that her skin split open.

“Carly!”  The older nurse from the fourth floor rushed to the young girl’s aid, guiding her to one of the public restrooms.  “Oh my, Carly, what is going on?  No, never mind, hush yourself.  Just let me…  Here, hold this there.  I’ll be back with some bandages.”

She sat on the edge of the toilet bowl, holding the hard paper-toweling to the open wound, waiting.  It was almost three in the afternoon.  Rita, Elena Jo, and Robert were either finishing lunch or napping at that time.  She had to go check on them; she couldn’t waste time waiting.  When she stood, she felt dizzy, the air moving too fast around her head.  She fell back down.

The nurse returned just in time to see Carly collapse to her knees.  She swore under her breath and knelt down.  “Carly, I don’t know what’s going on with you lately.  I thought you said you were getting better.”

“I am better.  I’m fine.”

“Yeah, just look at yourself.”

When their eyes met, Carly’s were clouded with tears.  She looked away, ashamed.

The older of the two sighed and peeled the towel away.  The damage wasn’t major—it was a minor abrasion that would heal in no time.  She was hardly concerned for the wound, anyway; it was Carly’s psychological state that worried her instead.  “Did you eat this morning?”

“Yes,” Carly lied.

“Mm.”  She was unconvinced but didn’t pry.  “How have you been handling this morning?  Not too stressful?  I can call someone else in.”

“No, I told you already that I’m fine, Beth, and I need to get back to work.”

As Carly stood again, slower this time, and walked away, Beth said, “Carly.  I know how hard it is for you, but it gets better with time.  You know that.  Just take it easy and if you need--“

“Beth, please.”

“Okay, I won’t push it.  If you ever need to talk, though, I’m here.”

In a flash, she was gone.

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She tried a different hue.  Then gray-scale and sepia.  Then soft-touching, different lighting, sharper.  Everything she tried was not working for that batch, and she was running out of options. 

Grabbing a cigarette from a drawer in her desk, she lit it and took a long drag.  She knew she didn’t have to work on the edits any longer, but then she realized tomorrow was one of those tougher days.  Getting what she could done today would be a huge stress-relief instead of putting it off for later.  She just needed some assistance. 

She hurried with the cigarette, smothering it in the ashtray, and looked out the studio door.  “Isaac,” she called into the yard.  “How’s it going?”

Around the corner of her home, Isaac and a short boy with acne were approaching her.  “We just finished,” Isaac said brightly, cradling a camera in his hands.  “I know we got some great shots here, Quinton.  We’ll contact you within the next week to set up an appointment with you and your parents, and then you’ll pick out some proofs that you like.”

“Okay, thank you,” the boy said and left.

“How’d it go?” Paige asked Isaac, resting her hands on her hips.

Isaac made a noise, unloading the camera on a table.  “I think I got a few good shots.  How’s it going in here?  Love being back yet?”

She noted his sarcasm and smiled.  “I am enjoying myself, surprisingly.  I just needed some help with editing that September session on the computer.  I know they can look better, but I can’t figure out how to make them better.”

“If you do this, I’ll check ‘em out.”

As Isaac claimed the computer chair, Paige unloaded the camera and changed the lens before putting it away in the closet.  She cleaned up the stage from the last session, putting away carpets and backdrops, and swept the floors clean.  When she finished, she looked at her partner.  “Did you decide on anything?”

“No, not really.   I did a few fixes, but, you know, I think that most of them look fine just as they are.  Not everything needs modification.  Let it go as it is, and let her see what she thinks at the next appointment.”

Paige pursed her lips.  “It’s weird to hear you talk in a wise-manner.”

Isaac laughed.  “By the way, have you been working out?”  She raised an eyebrow.  “Seriously, Paige, you look good.”

“Isaac, I know we’ve been working together for a while, so I think you would take the hint that I’m not interested--“

More laughter.  “No, no, no!  What I’m trying to say is you look great.  And that’s coming from me, a flaming homosexual male.  I think you should get back out there and try again.”

The woman scoffed, a faint flush upon her cheeks.  “No, I think it’s way too soon for me to even consider dating again.”

“Come on, what do you have to lose?”

She stared at him.

“Okay, that was a dumb question, but I think you can find love again.  You're nice, attractive, successful.  It’s been months, Paige, and I don’t want to see you waste more months cooped up in this studio.”  Isaac stood up from his seat and gently touched Paige’s hands.  “Abby would want you to try again, too.”

She sniffed a laugh.  “She would not.”

A slight smile danced across his face.  “For me, then.  Give it another try.  Someone might surprise you.”  He released her and walked away, calling out that he would see her bright and early for tomorrow’s long day of appointments.

Paige touched her face with her hands, suddenly feeling exhausted, and then ran thin fingers through her hair in frustration.  She glanced at a mirror, taking in her appearance for a moment.  Her dark hair just touched her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face.  She had her mother’s high cheekbones and her father’s angled nose.  Her skin was the color of the moon, and her eyes were black as night. 

She had stopped eating for a period after the accident, and then she had begun to feel so sick from being malnourished that she lost even more weight.  After a meeting with a therapist, she had basically restarted:  Exercising for an hour every day and keeping a schedule of what, when, and how much to eat.  Now she felt better, almost as good as she did in high school, which was a decade ago.

One of her therapists had mentioned, too, about getting back out there in the dating-world.  “Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there for someone else again, but don’t hurry yourself, either.  Take time for you, firstly, and wait until you know it’s time to get close to someone.”  She’d considered that a lot.  What would she look for in a woman this time—things completely different than her last relationship or completely the same?

She took a deep breath.  Her legs took her to the computer desk, presumably telling her to shut the computer down and call it a night.  She sat down in the chair, her hand hovering on the mouse.  Her eyes were on the picture frame turned away from her since this morning.  Swallowing dryly, she reached for the frame and looked at the photograph.  The moment their eyes met, Paige looked away.  Her heart constricted in agony. 

She put the picture back and left, the computer screen shining in the mirror’s reflection.