On the other side of the door, she looked at Emily quizzically through a mess of raven black hair. Priya’s skin was as rich as the night. She had high cheekbones and perfectly measured lips. With no more than a glance, Emily knew she wasn’t pleased. Before she had an opportunity to think of an explanation, Priya interjected.

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean—what do I mean?”

“You should be used to this by now,” Emily said with open arms and puckered lips.

“Stop right there—don’t touch me with those—is that blood?!”

“No, it’s not blood, but thanks for the concern. Good morning by the way.”

Emily pecked Priya on the cheek before inviting herself to bed. She patted the empty space beside her, but Priya wasn’t amused by any of this. Priya leaned against the door, clasping her hip with a look of disgust.

“That expression on your face...best part of waking up, Priya.”

“If that’s all you’re living for then you need Jesus. Now if you would be so kind as to lift your dirty ass up off my bed—I would be eternally grateful. Oh no...not that face. What’s wrong Em?”

Emily clasped her hands and rolled them till her knuckles cracked. “I had a rough night, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Don’t say that when it’s clearly something. You should of slept in my room...I slept like a baby.”

“Because you are,” Emily said with a smile as Priya brushed her hair aside and repositioned on the door. This was her silent way of pleading with Emily to withhold any embarrassing stories, especially ones that involved her. As Emily continued, Priya felt squeamish and decided to sit closer than initially suggested. In the event that Tibs went on to say too much, a helping hand would be there to shut her up. “Wow, that’s really close of you. Anyways...I heard something...somebody last night.”

“I’m not sorry about anything you heard; the walls are thin and—”

“Not like that—it was a different type of crying and it came from above.”

“This is the top floor; and above that is the roof, darling. Are you sure it wasn’t a bird? Crows can sound like people.”

Emily unclasped her hands and stared at the ground, trying to find words that wouldn’t make her sound crazier than she presently felt. “It was in the room with me, directly over my head...I heard words. Then I hear this scream then nothing. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that I might have finally snapped. Before you answer, hear me out...I saw something too but I don’t feel comfortable talking about that until I hear your response. And, and, and... someone tried to break in my room too.”

“I’m not sure where to begin; I only heard gunshots last night.”

Emily sighed and buried her elbow in Priya’s pillow while cupping her jaw. “My head’s not touching your pillow just in case you want to start something...I really only remember pieces of shit.”

“So what you remember is scary—scattered bits of shit? That sounds like a bad dream, babe.”

“That’s what I thought but it was more than that—it felt real.”

“Night terrors then...they’re rare, but maybe—”

“Remember that story you used to tell about the thing living in the walls?”

“Priya’s Bedtime Stories Volume One, I remember them well. You know I made that up to scare you? The walls are perfect for a colony of roaches and rats to snack on them, but that’s about it. I doubt anyone could fit between these paper-thin walls.”

“I know that. I’m talking about the way you describe the closeness of the monster when nothing’s in the room—that’s how it felt last night when I heard the scream.”

“It’s simple really...if that was real then someone’s no longer with us, which means they won’t be attending mass today.”

“I might have to bounce myself.”

“And miss out on one of the best meals this week has to offer? It’s the only reason I look forward to Sundays—and you know the rules?”

“No ticket, no eat...so stupid!”

“Stupid, but very effective. There’s no reason to miss out unless you got something better lined up Tibs.”

“I don’t have the plans or the funds to do a damn thing.”

Priya rested on Emily’s hip. “You look lightweight but that head’s about to give me an early hip replacement!”

“Whatever, so you ain’t got the money man no more? What happened to that lil’ boy I set you up with? And don’t you spare a single detail.”

“Just wasn’t for me,” Emily said as her eyes drifted towards the ceiling. Priya traced a heart in Emily’s hand.

“So, three months fly by and all I get is ‘just wasn’t for me’...?”

“I appreciate you hitting up Cass, King, and even slumming it at Renaissance but I’m not looking for a high school romance.”

“Then what are you looking for...are we ready for something more serious...?”

Priya’s question hung in the air for a considerable time before Emily responded by sliding Priya off her. “It’s not important—I just want to be alone. Do you know what that means?”

Priya kissed Emily’s upturned palm and began playing with her fingers. “Absolutely not, but I can empathize. So, what are we looking at?”

“Memories,” Emily said softly while following a spider crack on the ceiling.

The time she spent studying those cracks—she probably knew them more intimately than Priya by now. The way they curved reminded her of Priya. Emily remembered the first time she truly noticed Priya: back arched like a gymnast while doing the most mundane task.

Her torso’s so long and elegant–I love the way her ponytail hugs her back–I wish I had hair like that. That face, always hiding behind a messy bang—she’s so beautiful.

Emily’s inner thoughts were her true being and she only revealed that part of herself to people she knew intimately. There were few people back then and fewer today. In this flashback, this version of Priya was much more interested in dulling out punishment than entertaining deep thought.

“You need to stand up for yourself,” Priya said with an annoyed look. Emily gripped her nightgown tightly while brandishing an unconvincing smile. “You know from personal experience how she hands out punishment that lasts for weeks at a time. I don’t need that type of drama in my life Priya.”

“Em, we call that experience and everyone needs to know pain. You can’t appreciate hell until you lived in it—that’s weeks of dish duty complete with hands raw and bloody. A masochist like you will absolutely love it unless you’re afraid of a little forced labor?”

Priya drew in close and began circling Emily. Her eyes worked up and down Emily’s body before seizing the back of her gown. A shiver ran up Emily’s spine when Priya’s palm slapped her shoulder hardily. “Whatever you got balled up in your fist can’t be worse than the blood smeared down the crack of your ass!”

Emily began hyperventilating the moment she locked eyes with the bloody skid mark Priya eagerly displayed.

“The sooner you get out of these clothes, the quicker we put this incident behind us. This is what that heifer does; she loses it the more she realizes her days are numbered. She’s always been crazy, but now she don’t even give a damn.”

Priya demanded Emily reach for the ceiling while lifting the nightgown overhead. Emily concentrated on a crack in the ceiling to keep her balance. She felt the chill in the air as her knees began knocking uncontrollably. “So dramatic, you’re the perfect doormat,” Priya chided.

“It’s not like I trust her; I just don’t want her jumping down my throat.”

Priya laughed at the girl’s ridiculous concern and leaned into her ear.

“You’re the type that’s afraid to breathe without offending someone. Go ahead and take in some air; you’ll feel better I promise.” Emily took a deep breath as a tear escaped her. “You can’t be afraid of the world if you intend to live in it,” Priya continued.

“You don’t know what you’re saying! She’s intrusive; she tortures me! I don’t know how people like that get into positions of power...that’s why I don’t say much. I’m not trying to deal with all that; she’s not worth it.”

Priya balled up the nightgown and tossed it in the trash. “Keep thinking that and she’ll ride you hard and throw you away wet. Everyone knows that woman’s purpose in life is to cause as much pain as she bears on a daily basis. Really look at her the next time she comes at you, she’s always shaking. Her bones are crying out and she can’t help but yell at them and anything else that crosses her path. You have to be firm! Respect is taken, not earned.”

Emily caressed her arm and stopped on the scab that remained where Sister Margery dug her nails in. She was lost in thought when she lifted a corner of the scab.

“Stop punishing yourself. You’re just a little unlucky right now—everyone grew up under that tyrant while you were still in diapers, so they’re used to her. Sister Margery is afraid of dying. She won’t even garden; she’s afraid the ground will swallow her up.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Emily said with a smirk.

“Maybe I made that up, but you can’t blame her for being afraid to die. We know what it means to get old, but everyone reacts differently I imagine. If I get that old, I’d be happy to make it that far.”

“Me too,” smiled Emily.

“Just don’t let her break you, she won’t be here for long.”

Priya unfurled a clean nightgown and helped fit it over Emily’s head. “Something about you looks smarter—now get back in there and show Sister Margery you’re nothing to mess with.”

Emily returned to her room by the time the memory faded. She remembered the aftermath of the pep talk with Priya. Her encounter with Sister Margery didn’t go as well as she liked but it was the first of many cracks that eventually broke her out of her shell.

The room was spotless and Sister Silva even left a mint on her pillow. She really does care, Emily thought while grabbing a thin avocado-colored towel with orange and white Mesoamerican patterns on either end. The handle of a pink plastic basket containing her shower essentials slid over the crook of her arm before she left the room.