By Lucie Turkel
My last great manic high started at the Beverly Hilton and fuck did it feel good. Sun on my face. Ocean spray. Eating half a croissant all day smoking cigarettes by myself fuck did it feel good.
It was overcast when I got there of course. I didn’t care. I was there for work. I didn’t care. I sat by the pool in a sweater after smoking as the hotel attendant took down umbrellas folded up chairs there was a storm coming. I didn’t feel it. California was my salvation it had to be. I came to the end of the earth let myself float in the Pacific let myself get taken by the current take me I’m yours.
I sat by the pool at the Beverly Hilton I felt like I was God. Sitting poolside at the Beverly Hilton I was God. The hotel attendant came over: Miss we’re packing up the pool area. Wind whipping the surface into waves. It wasn’t supposed to storm in California. I was the only one out there at the end of the earth. I gathered up my stuff and left he folded up my chair and stacked it away.
* * *
I order a quart of chocolate ice cream for dinner room service delivered I open the door naked. Remember when we had that California king bed in Marbella and we fucked for hours? We ordered chocolate cake and a bottle of red wine and room service wheeled it right into the room I tried to hide your crusty thong with my foot. Wearing fluffy white robes and fucking in the jacuzzi until my head hurt then we moved to the shower. I eat the chocolate ice cream in bed alone but it has freezer burn so I just drip it over my naked body drip drip drip over the ridges of my ribs pooling in the caverns of my clavicle I can’t taste it anyway. I paint a collage on the white sheets until they get sticky rolling around fingerpainting across knobby knees inside my mouth sucking I shift and the ice cream bleeds across the bed. Remember when I bled across your bed in Arizona? I didn’t even know where it was coming from. I wish I remembered more from that night but all it is is a trail of blood and your boxers on the floor. Chocolate trailing I kiss chocolate lips I put chocolate inside me maybe the freeze burns but I can’t feel it. I lick my lips I fall asleep standing up in the shower the chocolate never fully fades though the bed is pristine by the time I get out. I flush the rest of the ice cream down the toilet it swirls like bile then it’s gone.
* * *
Next morning. Meeting. I have to be on time I have to be on time I have to be on time. Do my hair do my face do my clothes fuck it who cares. I look good either way.
Time to find the door. Door to get out let me out I need to get out. The door disappeared overnight of course. It’s dark so dark it feels gummy in my mouth. Hands press against the wall searching feet turning. I trip over something hands out brace for impact. Scratchy carpet. Still no door. I spin in circles let me out I need to get out. Keep going hands crawling there’s the closet. The door used to be right there but of course it’s gone. They’re always playing tricks on me. On my hands and knees now what do you want from me? I crawl I hit the wall I crawl I hit the wall I crawl I hit the wall I crawl I hit the handle. Finally. The door appears before me it looks like it’s always been there. Taunting me. Open me up dumb bitch.
I might be a bitch but I’m not dumb. I punch the door right where it’ll hurt my knuckles ricochet white. I step out into the hallway I go to my meeting.
I’m perfect. My boss sings my praises.
But now I’m back in that Beverly Hilton hotel room I’m back but I don’t have much time. Time to get ready for dinner. Time to sew on my skin. Middle of that big bed I’m just a pile of bones. Clattering around, stark stale. Dry. No muscle no skin no heart no eyes no nothing. It’s dark I can’t feel anything I can’t even feel myself. But I can feel you. I can feel you hovering watching me. Because you love to watch me right? I see the way you look at me. I see the way you try not to. I can’t see anything but I can feel you and it feels good. Deep. Gasp. I grab freshly muscled thigh with skeleton fingers damn it feels good. I know you want me everybody wants me. Do you know what it’s like to walk down the street and everybody stares at you? They’re always watching. It’s okay though I know you watch me too and I like it. Cup my breastbone and squeeze until tissue forms. Everybody wants this. I know you think of me when you’re alone I know you think of me when you’re fucking her. Ugh. Tingling. Do you ever think about me without my clothes on? I know you do. Muscle fills ribs we’re getting there we’re getting there. Now read this all again slowly. Imagine my voice. Breathy. Trying to catch it. Slowly slowly don’t rush me baby. You love to watch me, right? I whisper forked tongue falling out of mouth and landing deep in me fuck it feels good tendons build build building come on I see the way you look at me I see the way you try not to. Writhing. Cheek muscles materialize ass appears I grab with flesh-filled fingers fuck it feels good I travel down I know you want me everybody wants me. But what are you gonna do to get me? Ow. Heavy lids newly heaving parched lips part can I tell you a secret? Gasp. I like the way you watch me. I like the way you pretend not to. I like that you think about me that you don’t know what to do with me. Sight is close my fingers fly to smoothed sockets come on come on. Is your dick hard thinking about me right now? Is your pussy wet? Don’t you love to see me when I’m down? I know you do I know you do I know you do. Twisted sheets twisted words I know you do I know you do I know—gasp mouth throat hands tight body fitted over bones—I want you to think about how good it would feel to fuck me. Yeah. Close your eyes and picture it. What would you do to me first? Blood cells tendons tissue scraps of skin I’m coming together I’m coming close your eyes close your eyes close your eyes they’re almost mine. I’m so close. I reach out in the dark for you and I love you I love you I love you because you don’t exist you are nothing to me. You don’t exist. Who are you? Because at the end of the day there’s just me gasping grunting—and I’m everything. I am everything. I am everything I am everything I am everything. Eyes finally flung open heart skipping I’m squirted back into the land of the living body stitched over bones I’m coming together I came. Just in time for dinner.
* * *
Dinner at Catch I’m flawless I’m exactly who they all want me to be. Girl from the LA office sitting across from me with shy eyes she wants to explore her sexuality. Great. Wanna fuck in the bathroom now or later? I don’t care.
Her boss chimes in:I literally did not leave West Hollywood my first couple years here. Besides, everyone here is down for anything, especially in Silver Lake.
Me: Sounds like Bushwick, I say to audience laughter (cue applause).
LA girl to boss: Oh my God, you have to show her your vanity plate.
LA girl to me: You’re gonnadie.
I wish.
Me: Oh my God, show me, says my mouth my brain fled decades ago, actually it never came with me when we moved cross country it stayed out here in California all these years. My brain what a thing to forget.
With a flourish he whips out his phone: a chrome Benz, California plates spelling “DEPREST.”
He smiles, big.
Boss: Awesome, right?
I smile, bigger so big my mouth swallows the entire room the bar the donuts Catch the car itself all tastes gummy in my mouth this is what being deprest tastes like it’s delicious. I crunch down spit out a rogue bone.
* * *
Work was work and I could do that shit in my sleep I mean I did.
But now I’m alone.
I’m pedaling I look down smooth sailing. Biking up the coast I wanted to make it to Santa Monica I wanted to make it home. I was born there I could die there I was born there I could die there I was born there I could die there. The pedals push in agreement. I had gone to the end of the earth all alone lost at sea paddling out in the Pacific. I wanted to make it to Malibu I wanted to keep going. Half a croissant in my pocket it’s okay God doesn’t eat either. Sandy shoes stuck on the pedals sand in my socks I could never shake off.
Jim Morrison stares at me I pedal after him. James Dean stares at me I pedal after him. They all stare at me I pedal fast but they’re faster. I follow them along the ravine skidding gracefully sandy shoes on pedals. I had followed them and lost my way I was lost at sea I hadn’t seen the beach for miles. I was lost out at the end of the earth I didn’t care. I could have died I knew I wouldn’t. Too easy. My phone was dead the wind pushed me back I had to get off the bike and walk. The wind pushed me back and pushed me back and pushed me back I tumbled I free-fell through the air it wasn’t so bad I closed my eyes and ended up in Venice. Can I park my bike here no someone will steal it. Legs dripping down the sidewalk my feet had flown off somewhere back in Marina del Rey. I should be scared I’m not. Sand blows in my eyes I can’t see can I park my bike here please no someone will steal it. I just wanted a break. I wanted to make it to Santa Monica but I got lost at sea and now I would never make it home. Sand blowing in my eyes can I park my bike here no someone will steal it. I’m in Venice it doesn’t matter. I turn my bike around I head back it’s nothing new I never get a break. I just wanted a break. The sun setting the sun was supposed to be my savior why is he not protecting me? I bike back the way I came the Pacific Ocean curling by my side I was all alone at the end of the earth I had run out of rope. My phone is dead it never dies. I throw out the other half of the croissant.
Returning my bike how was the ride the Manhattan Beach teenager asks me oh you know. I thought I was going to die out there but then remembered I couldn’t. She blinks lovely she says the rental will be sixty. Hand her the paper in wind-torn hands it’s done.
* * *
I sit by the ocean my shoes in my hands my toes in the sand it’s cold. My nose running my eyes red they’re always red now. Sometimes my eyes scare me I stopped looking in mirrors. Ocean spray sun on my face something is wrong. I didn’t bring any sunglasses with me to California what a thing to forget. I finger the orange plastic pair I had bought at the pier that morning I wanted to pop out the lenses with my tongue and lick up the lead. I had come to the end of the earth all by myself I didn’t even try to smile didn’t even try to eat I didn’t need anything anyways God doesn’t eat He doesn’t smile He doesn’t even have a face. I put on the sunglasses the plastic digs into my skin I can’t see it melts into my face dripping over eyelids sealing them forever thank God but then I blink and the ocean comes to. I feel the safest by the water why was she not protecting me? I take off the sunglasses there was sand everywhere sand I could never shake off. I blink and three little children are at the ocean’s edge right where the waves break three little children just like we used to be. I blink I rub my eyes I blink I rub my eyes I blink I rub my eyes they’re still there three times they must be real. They looked just like us a sister and brother and sister if I could cry I would. I was all alone at the end of the earth and they were still there. The oldest she’s in the middle her brother sticks close by. Her sister the little one branching off defiantly but always running back always running back. They don’t see me but they were trying to tell me something I knew it I was trying to tell myself something God was trying to tell me something but my ears had been cut off weeks ago. I watch them they run back and forth back and forth tide soothing my mind break and wipe clean break and wipe clean break and wipe clean. When did I leave my body and enter into this new one? I look up the coast I wanted to make it to Santa Monica I wanted to make it home. I was born there I could die there I was born there I could die there I was born there I could die there I blink I put on my sunglasses the plastic digs into my skin I can’t see it melts into my face dripping over eyelids sealing them forever thank God. I write my name blind in the sand but can’t remember how to spell the tide takes it the tide takes it the tide takes it. Half a croissant in my pocket it’s okay God doesn’t need to eat either. I feel the safest by the water I feel the safest under the sun why were they not protecting me? I blink the three little children are at the ocean’s edge but this time they’re staring at me. I was all alone at the end of the earth they still wouldn’t leave me alone. I blink I blink I blink three times. I guess it’s all real.
I gathered up my stuff and left shaking sand out of shoes.
Lucie Turkel is a writer based in Brooklyn. Her stories have been published in Hobart, Midcult*, and more. Find more of her writing at pr0zacprincess.substack.com.