Cindy smelled the bitter sweet roses before she saw them on the kitchen counter. They were in a bundle wrapped in green paper. Her boyfriend, Jason, was at the kitchen table writing a document on his laptop. They had been going out for four years and had lived together for the last two. She knew he had heard her come home because her high heels were clacking loudly on the kitchen floor’s ceramic tiles, but he didn’t turn his head and kept working. He was nervous and didn’t know how she was going to react. She wasn’t sure yet either.

Cindy put her leather purse and trench coat on the kitchen counter and picked up the roses. They were beginning to welt and were as red as the blood that had dripped from her lip when Jason had slapped her last night and his college ring cut her lip open. She hadn’t felt any pain when Jason hit her because she had been in shock. He had never hit her before. After hitting her, Jason had stared blankly at her panting hard, then pulled her into a strong hug and started crying.

“I’m sorry, Cindy. Cindy, I’m sorry. Oh, god, I’m so sorry,” Jason had kept saying over and over again while he cried. She had felt the tears fall down her naked shoulder. She had only been wearing a bath towel. He had hit her after she got out of the shower. She had showered longer than ten minutes, the amount of the time she had promised him she would shower from now on after he had yelled at her about the high cost of the water bill. He had been so upset that she had broken her promise to him that he hit her. That’s what Jason kept frantically telling her as Cindy cleaned up the blood and put on clothes. He didn’t stop crying while he apologized to her.

Cindy knew Jason was an emotional person. He wasn’t like other guys and cried when he needed to. He was passionate about life, his work, and her. She had fallen in love with him when he cried after telling her, for the first time, he loved her. Cindy had battled with depression all of her life and it had been a relief to meet someone like Jason who made her happy. That morning, she kept telling herself that she loved Jason because he was passionate. She said it to herself when she woke up and again when she saw the red welt and dried blood on her swollen lip in the bathroom mirror. She couldn’t be surprised he would lash out when he was angry. She had knowingly broken a promise to him. She had ignored the timer last night while taking her shower and spent ten extra minutes shaving her legs. Jason worked hard and had done a lot for her. He had paid off half of her student debt and took care of their rent after she had temporarily lost her job. She mentally repeated these arguments to herself as she told people at work that she had accidentally walked into a pole the night before. She was again reminded how much Jason loved her when she saw the roses he had bought her lying on the kitchen counter.

The flowers smelled sickly sweet and the strong scent was starting to give her a headache. She  filled up a vase with water to put the flowers in. They looked beautiful but she had to throw away two because they had dark spots on their petals. The thorns on their stems pricked her hand and a small dot of blood welled from her index finger. She watched the blood trickle down her finger and onto her palm before running her hand under cold water in the kitchen sink. She quickly turned the water off when Jason closed his laptop and turned around to look at her. His eyes were red from crying.

“How was work?” he asked her.

“Fine. Did you finish your report?” She asked him back. Jason sighed. Her finger still stung with pain.

“The client wants more changes to the house design but I need to take a break. I’ve ordered sushi for dinner.” Cindy loved sushi but it was too expensive to eat all the time and Jason only bought it for her birthday and Valentine’s Day.

“That’s perfect.” Cindy smiled at Jason. He looked relieved and smiled back at her. Without thinking she said, “I’ll just take a shower before it arrives.”

She froze and looked at Jason for his reaction. Her swollen lip and finger were now both throbbing painfully. He strode over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. She felt choked by his wool sweater pressing on her neck.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered to her. He was hugging her too tightly and she felt suffocated. “I’ll come in after ten minutes and turn the water off myself. This time nothing will go wrong.” He let go of her but grabbed her shoulders, looked in her eyes, and smiled. The smile was too big for his face. 

Cindy nodded and walked to the bathroom. On her way, she passed the roses. Now in a vase, it was clear that all the flowers were wilting. Cindy thought it looked like they were crying. She wasn't sure if they were crying for her or Jason.

I’m Anxious and Depressed! What about you?

Are you also – Anxious and Depressed – too?

Then we both are!

Don’t text anyone! They won’t believe us – you know that!

How boring – to actually be – Mentally Healthy!

How out there – like a Rat –

That steals his Pizza – dirty Subway Pizza –

To an admiring New York!

(Modern Interpretation of Emily Dickinson's "I'm Nobody! Who are you?")

“What the heck?!?!”

“Heather, will you calm down?”

“How the hell am I supposed to calm down Brittany? My leg is stuck in a freaking fence!”

I look at my sister with eyes opened wide and filled with panic. I’m breathing so hard I’m practically panting. My left leg is in an odd angle and my foot is stuck at the bottom of a ripped out hole in a chain-link fence that’s large enough for someone to go through if they duck. Brittany crouches down and looks at the cuff of my jeans which has been caught by the sharp barbs of the chain-link fence. I start feeling claustrophobic and whip my head back and forth between trying to see what she’s doing and looking back at the river behind me that’s coursing down so loudly it sounds like a thunderstorm is happening.

“Will you stay still?” Brittany mutters at me. Brittany has always been more level-headed than me, even though I’m older than her by two years. It’s weird that someone’s who’s just fourteen is much more mature than me.

I didn’t realize how worn down my jeans were. From what I can see, the cuffs are more string than jean and the string has become entangled with the chain-link. It’s like trying to unknot necklaces after transporting them together in a bag: a pain-in-the-ass. Her impatience isn’t helping.

After five minutes, at least I think it’s that long, could be shorter for all I know since I’m not timing her, Brittany’s able to untangle my jeans by ripping off the strands connected to the fence. I’m not overly concerned over the damage. It’s long past their time to be thrown out.

“There you go!” Brittany springs up and bows at me. She straightens up and gives me a goofy smile. I’m not in such a good mood.

“What the hell took you so long?” I gingerly move my foot away from the fence and step on it warily. Did I twist it?

“You’re very welcome. Pleased to be of service”

“Stop being such a smarty pants. Let’s get out of here.”

We start running but we don’t go as fast as we hope, or at least as fast as Brittany wants judging from her whispers at me to hurry up. My legs feel stiff and I’m limping; I think I really did twist my foot.

“Remind me again why we’re in a hurry?” I gasp out at her, holding onto my side that feels like it’s on fire.

“Because if you don’t get back home before mom comes you’re going to get caught for skinny dipping in the river and get into so much trouble you’ll forget what sunlight feels like.” Even though she’s running faster than me she isn’t out of breath or clutching her side. In fact, she’s holding herself up pretty well. I, on the other hand, think I’m going to pass out if I don’t get to take a break soon.

“Right. And why did we go skinny dipping again?”

“Because mom forbid you from going to the river and since we never agree with her, your first instinct was to do what we knew would piss her off the most,” Brittany’s face is now positioned in what I affectionately refer to as her bitch-face. I laugh at how serious she is but have to quickly stop because I don’t have enough oxygen to laugh and breathe.

We soon arrive in front of our white-picket fence with the red mailbox standing guard in front of the gate. I pat the mailbox affectionately and go ahead in front of Brittany to enter our home first. In the front hallway I hear an excited bark and our golden-retriever Max runs up to me, his tongue lagging out and his tail wagging. I hug him tightly and look up at Brittany who’s smiling at Max, her eyes gleaming. When he looks at her he suddenly starts growling and bares his teeth at her. Brittany’s face falls and she steps back when he starts barking at her. The last time he barked like that was when someone was trying to break into the house.

“Stop it Max! What’s wrong with you?” I try to pull him away from Brittany but he won’t budge. Every muscle is on high alert and he looks more like a wolf than dog right now. Brittany’s now glaring at Max but her lips are curled in a half-smile. She walks towards him and laughs when he starts whimpering and runs away.

“What the heck was his problem?” I ask and look at Brittany helplessly. She always has the answers. She just shrugs and heads towards the staircase.

“Ignore him. He probably ate something weird outside.”

We both walk up to the bedroom we’ve shared since Brittany was born. My side is covered in posters of Lana del Rey and Ellie Goulding and my clothes, makeup, and books are scattered everywhere. Brittany’s side is completely clean. Nothing hangs on the walls and her possessions are all hidden in drawers; even her bed is plain, just a white sheet and pillow cover it.

“You should really spice up your side,” I remark at her, “Why did you take down your drawings?”

Brittany briefly glances at her bed and shrugs, “I like your stuff better. I feel like you have more than we need to decorate this room.” She stops talking and whips her head towards the door. I also heard the front door open and mom’s greeting.

“Heather, where are you?”

“In my room, mom!” I yell back at her. I furtively glance at Brittany. “Do you think she knows about the skinny dipping?” I’m suddenly nervous. I know we should have never gone down to the river after that time Brittany and I almost drowned in it last summer during the hurricane, but I couldn’t help it. Brittany was so excited about the idea and her excitement is infectious. Now that we’re home though and I’m about to face my mom, I don’t want to get into trouble. I look at Brittany in panic and she smiles at me.

“Stop freaking out! You’ll be fine. I doubt she’ll know what you did.”

We hear footsteps on the landing and soon my mom walks in. I can tell she’s had a long day. Her hair is limp and there are bags under her eyes. She hasn’t been feeling that well. Actually, she hasn’t been doing well ever since last summer. That’s why she’s made me come to therapy with her, so that I can understand what she’s going through. I don’t like her therapist. He never makes a lot of sense and says ridiculous things so I’ve learned to just tune him out and use the forty-five minutes to plan what I’ll do with Brittany later.

Mom walks over to me and gives me a wan smile.

“Hi honey. I got dinner from KFC. If you set the table we can eat.”

I grin. KFC is our favorite fast food. Something about heaps of fried chicken is like an art form for us. I turn to share my excitement with Brittany but mom interrupts me before I can speak.

“Honey, what are you looking at?”

Brittany glares at her and gives her the same half smile she gave Max. I look at mom in surprise.

“Brittany,” I tell her confused. I don’t know how I didn’t notice before but my mom’s eyes are red and now they’re slowly filling up with tears. Completely ignoring Brittany she walks to the plain nightstand Brittany’s standing in front of and picks up a framed photo of the two of us that we took last summer, two weeks before the hurricane. Its Brittany’s favorite because her blond hair is glowing in the sun and her blue eyes are shining. I look almost muted in comparison with my black pixie cut and pale face. Mom puts down the frame and I hear her take a big sniff.

“Okay. Well honey, come when you’re ready then,” She turns back to me and gives me a watery attempt at a smile. She touches my arm lightly, and still completely ignoring Brittany, walks out of the room.

I look at Brittany, “What was that about?” I ask, “Do you think working long hours has finally gotten to her?”

Brittany doesn’t say anything and just continues to look at the door where our mom left. I wonder what she’s thinking. I shrug and follow my mom out to set the table. I turn to look behind me but Brittany doesn’t move, just glares at me while giving me a half-smile.