The man’s nails dig into my skin, leaving angry red crescents alongside the needle marks in my arms. My feet are folded under me, scraping against the floor as he drags me forward. The man is over six feet tall with a shaved head and stubble on his face, and he reeks of cigarettes. He flickers in and out of focus. I collapse into a chair as he releases me. I watch him leave. The room, the size of a large closet, is overwhelmingly white. The ceiling, floor, and walls are white. I’m drowning in white. The fluorescent lights catch my attention as they flicker on and off. There’s a girl in the chair across from me. I know her; the man has kept us drugged together. Her black hair is matted and greasy, and her blue eyes are cloudy. I probably look just like her. The lights buzz loudly as we contemplate each other in semi-darkness. Body odor mixed with a strong scent stings my nose hairs.
“Lil,” I croak.
“Hey, Dee,” she answers.
“What does he want?”
“I don’t know. It can’t be good. Promise you won’t give him what he wants.”
“I promise.”
“I promise too.”
The opening of the door silences us. My body shakes uncontrollably. Stringy hair slips over my eyes. I watch him place a box on the floor between our chairs. It rattles when it hits the ground. The lights flicker on and off as the man turns to leave.
“Only one of you leaves alive.” The door slams loudly as he exits.
I think I know what’s in the box. I wonder what Lil thinks, but I can’t read her face. She glances at me. I focus on the box.
“It’s a gun,” I say. The lights buzz louder.
“He’s going to kill us!”
“Lil, he wants one of us to kill the other.” Suddenly, I realize the strong smell in the room is bleach. Others might have died here before. Sweat pools under my arms.
“No. I’ve never touched a gun. I never will.”
“I won’t either.”
“I’m a good person.”
“Me too.”
The lights continue their frantic dance. I’m afraid of what might happen to me if I move, but that’s ridiculous. Lil won’t hurt me. I won’t hurt her. All my life, I’ve done the right things. I’ve been a good person. I’ll stay that way. There’s shuffling outside.
“In five minutes, I will shoot you both.” He speaks from behind the door. “One of you leaves, or both of you die.”
Would it be wrong if one of us got to live? We’ll both die. I don’t want to die. Fear wafts into the air, intertwining with the bleach and the body odor.
“Four,” the man shouts. My heart beats like a war drum. The box is close. I can reach it first. “Three.” His voice rises as the lights flicker. On, off, on, off. I raise my eyes from the box. I need to see Lil’s face. I’m scared of what I might do if I move any more. She watches me carefully.
“You promised,” I whisper.
“So did you.” Her voice shakes, but her eyes show resolve. I’m a good person. Good people don’t hurt others. On, off, on, off.
“Two,” the man screams, pounding relentlessly on the door. It shakes the doorframe. The world buzzes, flickers, and shakes. I can’t take it anymore. My hands push against the armrests and launch my body forward. I stumble toward the box and pry off the lid.
“You promised!” Lil screeches, ramming into me at full speed as I seize the weapon. My head bounces off the floor as I land. I claw at her arms. We’re a pile of angry limbs wrestling on the white floors.
The lights won’t stop flickering, and the man screams, “One minute!”
“Liar!” Lil shrieks into my ear. The gun’s in my hand and then gone. It’s aimed at me, and then it’s not. Bang! The gun fires. We stare at each other in shock.
Grey seeps its way into Lil’s blue eyes. I can guess her emotions: pain, fear, betrayal, and hatred for the man, for me, and for herself. Faced with death, we’ve become people we didn’t think we were. I’m not a good person. Maybe I never have been. The pain creeps in, and I realize I’m the one who’s dying. The adrenaline wears off. Blood seeps into my shirt. Relief floods my system. I sink into the white sea.
The man enters, cigarette in hand. I watch his eyes absorb the lights, the blood, and the murderer who is my friend. She can’t tear her eyes from my wound. The man takes a final drag.
“Fascinating,” he says. “You can go.”
About the Author:
Alexandria Goodwill studies English at Lipscomb University. She is a former Associate Fiction Editor of Straylight, a current tutor, and an aspiring author.
