The Killing Moon

[KamiKaze]

((Content warning: descriptions of suicidal ideation))

The closest she ever came, that she could think of, was the Winter Ball Mangrove Garden hosted last December, right before the break.

Mary had been… so excited for it. She was already having a rough school year, so she’d made preparations weeks ahead. She made her own dress for it, you know? Well, not exactly. She found the cutest little black dress at a thrift store. Fell just above knee-length, a-line skirt, a sweetheart neckline, butterfly sleeves. If it had eyes, it was probably begging for Mary to take it home. And she did and patched it up to her liking. Aside from tailoring it so that it was a more comfortable and natural fit on her body, she made a few adjustments. For example, the first time she wore it after tailoring, she noticed that the neckline needed an extra something. Luckily, she had just the trick: it turned out she had some leftover tulle from a Halloween sale she’d been meaning to use up. It was also black and translucent, with a subtle moon and stars pattern. She’d done some fiddling, and she decided on an illusion neckline-type thing where she kept the original sleeves but filled in the pre-existing neckline with the fabric. She put the fabric elsewhere, too, by creating a kind of underskirt for the dress out of it. This changed the silhouette to be a little poofier at the skirt and had some extra detail, but wasn’t so gawky. It felt like it needed something at the waist, but she needed to be careful. She didn’t want to overwhelm the outfit, after all. Ultimately, she decided on a small dark belt tied around the waist. Then, she paired it with sheer tights and a pair of black Mary Janes. For her hair, instead of her usual pigtails, she pulled it back in a ponytail with a black bow hair clip. She completed the look with long lace gloves. The general vibe she was going for was kinda cute, kinda witchy.

To her, semi-formal meant ‘you don’t need to go to prom efforts, but don’t be a slobby loser either.’

Mary didn’t go with anyone. No one had asked her out, and she asked out no one. Don’t get her wrong, there were plenty of cool people at Mangrove she’d like to get to know better. It’s just that she was antsy about actually asking anyone, because she knew they’d reject her, and no one seemed to want to approach her, either. So, anyway, she went alone.

She actually had a fun time! The theme this year was ‘Aurora Borealis’, so the gym was decorated with lights in shades of blue, pink, and green, alongside the snowflakes and fake snow and white string lights. Mary actually took a selfie in front of this reindeer decoration they pulled out for the event. She tried her best to flit around, making conversation, dance, sample the punch, and the various treats she could. She did feel a little on edge, but that was normal for her at social events, right?

Right?

And there was an afterparty, too, hosted at someone’s house. Of course, Mary went. Earlier in the day, she’d dropped off some gluten-free brownies with some crushed candy cane at the host’s house. She’d spent all night working on them, making sure there was enough for everyone. And she had a fun time there as well. Right?

So why did she feel so out of it? She was on edge and felt weird. As typical of parties where parents weren’t around, there was booze, and she definitely had some. It was more lubricant, something to take the edge off what she was feeling. Mary had tried her best to keep on the mask. She chatted, played games, joked around.

But eventually, it wasn’t enough.

Mary left before the party was over, without telling anyone. She just waltzed out the door, no ‘goodbyes’ or ‘I had fun’. Just disappeared.

Somewhere, in her memory, she noticed how surreal the streets looked in December. It was warm out and there were still palm trees and neon colors. But, brightly colored string lights wrapped around the trees, there were multiple winter-themed decorations, and Santa smiled brightly from multiple angles. It was something she should be used to by now, but it still felt weird. It felt… insulting. Like the decorations were telling her she should be happy, even if she didn’t feel like it was possible.

Eventually, she made her way towards the beach. It felt more consistent, quieter.

While she was there, she did run into a few people who didn’t seem to notice her, but for the most part, she was alone.

Alone was kind of what she needed right now.

The entire time, she’d walked up and down, holding her shoes with one hand, and feeling the tide soak her tights. She didn’t care too much about whether she was damaging them. Her body still felt the haze of hard cider.

And the entire time, thoughts were going through her head.

You could do it, you know. Right here. No one would stop you, and they might think it’s a freak accident. You could just go for a ‘swim’, and wait until you stop moving. Wouldn’t it be great? Wouldn’t it be the best way to do things? Drowning in saltwater will probably hurt, but you’ll go unconscious quickly. So do it. Now’s the time.

At one point, she set her shoes down and took a few steps into the waves. Stopped herself. Walked back. Sat down. Breathed.

And there Mary stayed, even as the sky changed to more vibrant colors. Another day.

Eventually, she stood up, feeling stiff and tired. She knew she had to get going. But her head hurt. When was the last time she drank anything that wasn’t booze?

So she found a coffee shop and ordered an iced coffee with some of the change she’d packed. She’d sat outside the restaurant, quietly sipping on her drink, when she saw a cop car pull up.

It turned out her parents had reported her missing.

They texted and called her, but she didn’t pick up her phone. They contacted her friends, both from Safe Harbors and not, but they didn’t get much other than she went to an afterparty and left abruptly. So, they contacted the police station, and that meant the cops were looking for her.

Honestly, she hadn’t had much of a plan for going home, but when she was dropped off back at the house, she stood outside for a few minutes. It was… ‘home.’ It was elevated, with a drive-under garage, and you had to take a flight of wooden steps to get up to the patio and house.

For a moment, she thought about turning and walking away. The idea of staying ‘missing’ was enticing. But, she took the steps up. Opened the door. Placed her shoes on the rack. Looked at the sign she made some time ago, of Ozzy and Ivy reminding the reader to take their shoes off.

And then she talked to her parents.

It was a lot of questioning, lectures, and frustration on both sides. Mary kept her story to only the barest details: she left early because she wasn’t feeling good, went to the beach to get some air, lost track of time, needed help getting back. It was tense for the rest of the day. She was glad to see Ozzy and Ivy, though. They didn’t seem too worried, but they jumped up, gave her kisses on the hand.

There were two things that, to Mary, were the worst parts.

The fact that things went back to normal surprisingly quickly was odd. Sure, things were tense with her parents for a while. But winter break happened, she helped with events at Safe Harbors, went with her folks to one of the Holiday Villages, baked some more, everything. Of course, she had some gifts as well. Some from her parents, some from friends. Mary had some to give, too. She found cheap mugs and decorated them for her parents. Ozzy and Ivy got homemade rabbit treats.

Things were normal afterward, which made the whole thing extra odd. She didn’t say much about it to her therapist.

The other part of it was, Mary didn’t actually know what set the whole thing off to begin with. Or at least, she couldn’t remember. Was it because there were a bunch of tests that week? Did someone say something to her that soured her mood? Was it because of the holiday season and the expectation that you’re supposed to be happy, even when you’re not? Was she just overwhelmed with the number of events going on? Was it the alcohol? Was it the realization that she may never feel happy again after this evening? Was it all of these things? Was it none of these things?

The images of her wearing the dress were still up on her Instagram. It felt like a version of her from an alternate reality, who smiled and was sociable and was genuinely happy. It felt like a parody of her.

Mary never wore the dress again.

___

((Mary Cheung continued from "I know every story has to end, but that doesn't mean I won't hesitate before the last word."))

She gripped the railing overlooking the sea.

It was quiet now. Only the kind of noises you’d expect from the ocean at night time. There were the waves gently crashing against the boat. Not much else. It was a clear sky tonight. The moon and stars shone brightly, casting a reflection onto the water.

Leo was laid to rest, put into the sea like the rest of them. Leah probably was by now, too. There were other dead bodies around, but she didn’t have the energy to deal with them. Did that make her selfish? That she only cared about the two right now?

But it felt so cold, so empty. So hollow and draining.

She’d probably be there, too. Sometime soon, she’d join them, to likely be eaten and picked apart.

Mary wanted to make something of herself here. She knew she had an audience, and the audience could cheer her on or despise her. The worst thing, though, was the idea that they could forget about her. That she’d just be a footnote, and prove everyone, especially herself, right.

And, well, remembering all the horrible ways you could die helped.

But she put her foot on the bottom railing, lifting herself up slightly. Paused. Put her foot back down on the deck. Breathed. Breathed. Breathed.

She looked downwards. Some of her vomit from a few minutes ago was still visible among the seafoam. Her body hadn’t stopped shaking since she ran away.

Mary saw various details. The way there were lights on inside the rooms below. The way the boats in the distance bobbed and danced in the waves. The way that, despite how calm things seemed, the game was still going.

Flotilla was still a funny word. Like something you’d call an ice cream drink.

Eventually, she turned and left. But after finding a camera, hidden somewhere in the entrance, she smiled and winked.

She had to.

((Mary Cheung continued in Divided We Stand, Together We Fall))