The Space in Between
Page 3

There were three types of people in this hell. People number one—the people who were actually crazy. Like ‘I see dead people and talk to f**king cows’ type of crazy. People number two—the people who worked there, who looked even more insane than the crazies. Yet the only way to tell if they were mentally insane or employees of the messed up system was to glimpse at their shoes to see if they still had their shoestrings. The crazies didn’t get strings in this place. I looked at Dr. D’s shoes to make sure the shoestrings were there. Sometimes it was hard to tell.
And there were people number three. They were the people who were surrounded by others who continually attacked a person and f**king battered them to a point where there was a snap. People number three snapped and needed a break—a vacation to the land of crazy just to avoid the truly insane individuals who were walking outside in the real world.
I sat back in my metal chair and glanced down to my shoes. I wasn’t an employee. I didn’t talk to cows. So I guessed I was a three. I looked toward Dr. D and asked him to repeat his question.
“What are you thinking, Cooper?” he asked. I laughed loudly and shrugged my shoulders. I rested my hand on my hairy face and chuckled even louder. I hadn’t been allowed to shave since I arrived and it felt strange to feel prickly hairs growing in. A daily reminder of my time spent here. You know what I was thinking? I was thinking my wife was a cheating, pregnant whore.
But I looked at Dr. D, knowing if I stated my true thoughts he’d think I needed to be in the mental health clinic longer than I wanted to be. I rubbed below my bottom lip and shrugged, “Nothing.”
He studied me for awhile. I almost thought he could see right through me. I stared back, my green eyes giving his browns quite the battle. He pushed his thin-framed glasses up his nose and nodded, turning to Claire—the born-again virgin who was addicted to co**ine. “What about you, Claire? What are you thinking?”
The older dude seated next to me smiled and whispered, “You’ll be okay.” He didn’t look insane, but his missing shoestrings told me otherwise. “You just have to go through what you’re going through to get to what you’re getting to.”
I eyed the older dude to look for clear signs that he was crazy. Some of the people in here twitched, some of them screamed, and others broke everything they could get their damn hands on. But this guy…he had calm blue eyes and a full grayed beard which somehow made me want to get to know him. He had friendly eyes. If I had to be in this place for a few more weeks, I would need an ally. I turned to him and allowed him to be my new ‘friend’. “Thanks, man. What’s your name?”
“Most people around here call me J.C. But you can call me by my real name, Jesus Christ.”
The blank stare on my face had to be priceless; I looked for a sign of sarcasm from him, but it was nowhere to be found. Slowly turning around in my seat, I remained stunned. Jesus Christ, where the hell was I?
Chapter Three
WHEN I ARRIVED to New York, I was so glad to have Ladasha come running in my direction, wrapping her arms around me. I nudged her in the arm, grinning. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you.”
“Ditto. Look at you! I can’t even tell you were in a cast!” It felt good to have that dang thing off my leg. Every time I looked at it, it was a daily reminder of Derrick, so having it gone was a plus. Now if only I could get my memories to disappear. Ladasha bit the bottom of her lip and narrowed her eyes. “Listen, so you’ll be staying with me and Kate at our apartment. I hope you are okay with a couch as a bedroom…” Her begging eyes appeared, hoping it would be all right, but she had nothing to worry about. I couldn’t care less.
I was out of the small town and in the city that never sleeps. The city people went to lose and find themselves. I was so ready to leave old Andrea in Wisconsin and rediscover myself, leaving all the tears and pain in the past. It had been five months since the accident, but sitting in my bedroom at my parents’ house made it feel like yesterday. And I was so sick of yesterdays.
Ladasha snuggled her head into my shoulder, holding onto me tightly. I really hit the jackpot in the friendship department with this one. Ladasha was a beautiful human, inside and out. Her wardrobe demonstrated exactly who she was. It was sexy with a twist of flirtation attached to it. She always wore cropped, flowing tops that would showcase her flat stomach and belly button piercing. Her jeans were so tight they would appear to be her own skin if one didn’t notice the back pockets. Many other girls who would try to wear the risky outfits Ladasha sported would be tagged as a slut, but not her. Ladasha made the outfits somehow become classy—they were a part of her personality. She had beautiful caramel skin and legs that could spin for days. She was a floater, both on the stage and in life, and her outfits always reminded the world of that.
“Oh…and I forgot to tell you about the job…” My best friend’s smile read ‘forgive me’ and ‘try to understand’ as she proceeded to tell me she was now officially a stripper. “I mean, you wouldn’t be a stripper, of course! You would be a shot girl!” Her wide-toothed grin tried to make her new employment seem a bit better, but I wasn’t buying it.
“Ladasha! Stripping?! Are you kidding me?!” I cried. Everything I knew about strippers involved drugs, sex, and Channing Tatum. Okay, well, two out of three weren’t terrible, but still.
“It’s a form of dance…” she said.
“It’s a step away from prostitution,” I echoed into the air.
“I made three hundred dollars last night.” Well, I couldn’t argue the numbers.
The first night in the apartment was the toughest for me. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror with tears running down my face. I missed him so much it hurt to breathe. Ladasha didn’t ask me to talk about it. She just hugged me. She had met Derrick a few times throughout the school year and knew we were meant to be together forever. She just hadn’t known how short forever was.
I headed to the couch and pulled out my MP3 player, put the headphones in my ears, and listened to Derrick sing as I cried myself to sleep.
The days went on but the memories didn’t grow fainter. I walked into the strip club, wearing pretty much my underwear with the Up and Under logo pasted on my ass. The men were pigs, of course. Whenever I walked around with a tray of shots and one would reach for me, I felt the urge to slap him hard across the chin. They smelled like rum and filth, and they wanted nothing more than to touch a pair of boobs. And I was making it pretty easy for them to stare at mine.
Returning home, I went back to my regular routine of tears. I felt so ashamed of myself that missing Derrick didn’t fade away.
Kate, the other roommate, didn’t hold any pity for me like Ladasha did. “Is she going to be crying all the damn time? It’s effing annoying!” she hissed with her thick Brooklyn accent. She wasn’t one to hide her feelings and voiced them any chance she could get. “I’m serious, Ladasha. I cannot take it anymore. Do something. I’m going to Ricky’s for the night.”
She barged out of the apartment, taking with her the attitude. Ladasha rolled her eyes and joined me on the couch. As she sniffed the air, her eyes filled with questions of what she smelled. She set sight on the men’s cologne bottle on the coffee table. Picking up my pillow, she inhaled it, taking in the tangy scent. It was Derrick’s favorite. I felt so pathetic. But Ladasha smiled and tossed her legs on top of me.
“If you ever want to talk…” she offered. I declined.
DERRICK WRAPPED HIS arms around my waist and swung me side to side in my dorm room.
“Babe, stop, I have a class to get to.”I loved when he would visit during the week, but he made it extremely difficult to make it to class on time. Or, well, to make it to class at all.
His kisses behind my ear made my strides to attend lecture vanish. “I love you, Andie,” he whispered, his lips gently tugging on my earlobe.
“I know.”
He placed his hand on my chin and pulled me in closer to him, staring me down with his beautiful brown eyes. His long eyelashes blinked and he looked saddened a bit. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything’s right when I’m with you.” He took my hands and placed them across his chest, holding me tight. “You’re the reason this beats. You’re the reason I don’t feel alone in this damn world. When I feel invisible, you see me.”
“Derrick…” I whispered, placing my hand on the side of his face.
“Will you marry me, Andie?”
A chuckle escaped my lips, we always joked about marriage, and I knew it would happen, just not now, five minutes before my class. I pulled away and picked up my books.
“I’ll see you after class, babe.” I kissed his cheek and he smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets. Opening my dorm door, I heard him call after me.
“Andie Evans, catch.” I turned around as he tossed me a box. My eyes filled with tears, studying the small box lying within my hands. Derrick swayed back and forth, “Open it.”
My fingers lifted the lid and the tears began to flood my cheeks. “D…” I looked to him and he was now down on one knee. “Ask me again.” I softly said, walking over to him.
He took my hand and kissed my palm, “I want you. I need you. I love you. Will you marry me, Andie?”
WHEN NOVEMBER CAME, the earth’s breaths were getting pretty chilly. I stared out of the bathroom window and looked at the first snowfall happening before my eyes.
Whenever Mom or Daddy would call, I would tell them I was doing great. Working at a nice restaurant down the way and looking to get back into dancing. Which was pretty true. After Kate got fed up with my annoyance and moved out of the apartment, Ladasha and I needed more cash for rent. So she offered me a chance to get on stage.
“Come on, you’re a fantastic dancer!!!” she cheered. I shook my head. I would be lying if I didn’t watch the girls onstage and see that it really was an art form. The way they moved their bodies and took perfect upside down spins around the pole made me almost want to dance again.
“Just think about it. I’ll have Roger give you a practice run someday soon. Maybe a few lap dances for some dudes. Come on, what could it hurt? Listen, I gotta get to work. There’s some Chinese food in the fridge. Eat something, skinny. I’ll see you later.” My best friend rushed out of the room, leaving me there alone once again, with my thoughts.
I hated being called skinny. Mainly because I was skinny now. It wasn’t that I was a hippo or anything before; I was 5’8” and weighed 130 lbs. Too big to be a ballet dancer, but just right for contemporary dance. After the accident I lost a good fifteen pounds. Most girls would be thrilled, but I didn’t like it about me; heck, there wasn’t much I enjoyed about myself lately.
I rolled my eyes and stood up to go dye my hair in the bathroom. A change was needed, even if it were only a physical one.
I promise to love you without reservation. Comfort you in times of distress. Encourage you to achieve all of your goals.
“Stop it...” I hissed as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror. My reflection was mocking me. Reminding me of who I used to be, the person I had left behind in Wisconsin. Every stupid freckle on my face reminded me of who I was, giving me a new desire to never pass by a mirror.
Laugh with you and cry with you. Grow with you in mind and spirit.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Stop it…stop it… My hands formed fists and slammed against the sink counter. I was losing it again. My mind was traveling to places I wished to forget. My brain was dishing out old memories which had once made me smile, yet they were now tainted with sorrow and regret.
Always be open and honest with you and cherish you…
“STOP!” I screamed into the mirror as my eyes flung opened. I stared at the now tear-filled blue eyes. I could run from the rest of my past with such ease, but each time I looked in the mirror was a constant reminder of who I used to be. What I used to be. Slowly I was becoming disgusted with my inability to move forward with life; I just kept living the same nightmare over and over again.