Maude awoke unrested. Sunlight snuck in through the slits in her blinds; even the soft morning light was already too much for her. She lay sprawled out under her worn-in sheets and felt the air her fan was blowing, yet everything felt still. The air was stale and dry. She wanted to die. 

​

It always felt like this when Paloma visited.

​

Maude could hear Paloma rustling in the guest room through the wall. That woman never rests. Paloma often appeared at Maude’s doorstep at odd hours on random days. She came with a stuffed suitcase and the intention to stay; never with consideration of Maude. Yet, without fail, Maude unlatched the door and let Paloma into her life once again. This is what occurred the night before. 

​

Despite being the one to open the door, it never registered to Maude that she was actually letting Paloma in. She heard the guest room door creak open and the wooden hallway floor groan as Paloma walked to the bathroom. Maude rolled to her side, the clock read 7:02 a.m. The sink faucet turned on. The sound of running water made Maude thirsty. She reached for the glass cup on her nightstand and sipped on the water. Instinctively, she reached her hand across the top of the nightstand and searched for her pillbox. But she hit her lamp causing it to teeter over. Reflexively, she jumped up to catch it, but in the process she overturned her glass sending her clock and pillbox soaring off the table. She sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the broken clock and the soaked linens and the shattered glass and the pills dotted across the floor. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and her face growing hot. But she did not feel her clenched fists or her nails burrowing into her palms or the shards of glass wedged into her feet or Paloma’s curious stare from the open bedroom door.

“What did you do?” Paloma asked insensitively. 

​

“Everything you see here.” Maude gestured around and glared at the mess. “There’s really nothing more to say,” she continued, dismissing Paloma. 

​

Paloma walked over to the bed defiantly. Glass crunched under her slippers. She sat down and put her arm around Maude. Maude felt like she was going to fall through the bed, through the floor, and straight into the core of the Earth so that she would return to ash. That’s how it goes, right? Paloma weighed her down, which—like everything else about that woman—didn’t make sense. Paloma looked emaciated. Her bones pulled at her skin awkwardly and her skin was patchy. She looked like she had an eating disorder. She reminded Maude of a hatchling, of a bird without feathers. She was disgusting. How could a man ever love her? Ever make love to her? Ever pick her up and spin her around and tell her how much he loved her? He simply couldn’t. Her presence was too heavy. She was like thick smoke—dark, untouchable, and deadly. She could kill in an instant or over a lifetime. Maude presumed the latter was happening to her. 

​

“Why did you spill your pills? You’re going to have to call the pharmacy,” Paloma said matter-of-factly. 

​

Maude ignored her. “What are you doing up so early?”

​

“Thinking.”

​

“About what?”

​

“How long I’m going to stay with you this time.” Her lips thinned out into a smile. Maude hated her. “I’m thinking about sticking around for a while. I’ve been browsing for places to stay on Craigslist. I found this middle-aged divorcé who’s renting out a spare bedroom. It’s cheap. I think he’ll be a good host for me. Lots to keep me busy. Someone like that is surely a piece of work. Who needs WiFi when you have free entertainment living in the other room?” She chuckled to herself and continued. “Don’t worry though, I’ll be stopping by every chance I get.”

​

“Great,” Maude clenched her jaw. “But what if he’s a pervert?”

​

“I’ll kill him.” Paloma squeezed her. 

​

“You’re so tiny a gust of wind could knock you over. I don’t think you’re going to be fighting off some deranged man with a beer belly.”

​

“No silly, I’ll get into his head. I’ll make him hang himself, or slit his wrists, or swallow a bottle of pills with vodka. I’ve been chatting with him online. He’s under my control whether he knows it or not. I’ll drive him mad. He’s a pathetic, broken man.”

​

Paloma let go of Maude and laid back on the bed, stretching her arms above her head. Her hip bones protruded unnaturally. She looked like a fallen angel. She was evil. Maude stared blankly at her sprawled-out figure. The women had known each other since Maude was nine years old. After discovering her parents put her dog down, she ran down her street hysterically until she stumbled upon a devastating car accident. Two cars were smashed terribly, one was flipped and the other was slammed into a tree. She saw a man on his knees holding his face in his hands. An officer was crouched in front of him talking to the crying man. Maude was mesmerized by his hysteria. But her interest was cut short when a stranger—Paloma—tapped her shoulder. 

​

“Isn’t it crazy? He killed her.” Paloma said without introducing herself. She appeared to be a couple of years Maude’s senior.

“What?” Maude was horrified. “He did what?”

​

“He’s drunk. Slammed directly into the woman’s car. The paramedics aren’t rushing around because there’s no life to save. No one could survive that crash. ”

​

“How do you know he’s drunk?”

​

“I just do. I also know his wife left him. I mean just look at his left hand. There’s an indentation of a wedding ring. He must’ve taken it off. Maybe he was cheating. Either way, he’ll never be able to escape this memory.”

​

“Why are you here?”

​

“I followed you. I saw you crying and I wanted to see your reaction to the crash. Oh, and I’m Paloma. You’re Maude, right?”

​

“How do you know my name?” Her voice cracked nervously.

​

“We go to the same school.”

​

“I’ve never seen you.”

​

“I stay in the background. Plus, we’re not in the same grade.” She paused. “Anyway, why don’t I walk you home? Your parents are probably wondering where you are.”

​

Before Maude could respond, Paloma took her hand. Maude couldn’t speak, words wouldn’t form in her mouth. She was physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually taken by Paloma. 

​

Maude couldn’t understand how she had remained friends with Paloma for 15 years. Perhaps it was because Paloma had always been there when tragedy struck. Did she find a false comfort in this despicable woman? Evidently. And now the woman had returned.

​

“I think you should leave.” Maude blurted out. She couldn’t believe what she had said. Had she even said anything? Yes, yes she had. Right? Her mouth had moved, right? She was breathing, yes? But the air felt solid.

​

Paloma didn’t react. Maude was sweating. Or maybe she was crying. Her face felt damp. Her entire body felt wet like she had been dipped in water, like she had been baptized. Was she saved? 

​

“I think you should leave.” She repeated.

​

Paloma got up from the bed and casually walked out of the room. Maude heard her open the medicine cabinet and turn on the faucet. She returned with a bottle in her hands and the bathroom cup. 

​

“You’re right. I’ll check out the man’s apartment. It won’t hurt to reunite with him sooner. It’s not like anything’s going to change in a day if nothing has changed in 15 years. He’s still a drunk and he’s still a killer.” She sighed, “It was selfish of me to come here, you’re overwhelmed.” She handed her the bottle of sleeping pills and the cup. “Take these. They’ll make you feel better. I promise you I’ll be gone when you wake up.”

​

Maude stared at the bottle, she couldn’t process anything. She felt insane. Perhaps she should get a lobotomy. No, no, those are illegal, aren’t they? Aren’t they…? She thought she was out of sleeping pills, but apparently she was wrong. Was she? She took out two pills and swallowed them. Paloma gestured to the bottle, “Take an extra. Ya know, for good measure.” She chuckled. Maude didn’t react, but she obeyed. 

​

She sat there, on the damp bed, her body damp, her room a mess. She felt fluid. Her nose and throat stung, she was crying. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

​

Paloma smiled. “Darling you’re not. I’m here. I’ll always be with you.”

​

* * *

​

Maude awoke groggily. Her eyes fluttered heavily with sleep. The fan hummed in the background. But that wasn’t the only sound. Past the hum of the fan, she heard it—rustling in the guest room.