Pasta-Gal

  Mentions of rape, PTSD episode

  [colpse]

  The pping of the waves was hypnotic. In and out. It was inviting Petra, like a hand the water seemed to call to her, to welcome her into the depths.

  Agatha had waded slightly into the water, no higher than her ankles but she seemed to enjoy the water. Her pants had been rolled up to just below the knee and the reveal of Agatha’s legs was strangely enticing to Petra. The wind had been tousling her long auburn so Agatha tied it behind her in a hasty attempt at a bun.

  Petra remained sitting on the dune. The beauty of the ke and Agatha enough to ignore the worries that had been pguing her all day. It was funny, this morning she was so certain her life was ruined, and while that may be true, this moment of normalcy allowed Petra to see it all in a new calmer perspective.

  “Don’t you want to come in? This was your idea,” Agatha pyfully kicked some water towards Petra.

  “I’m not really dressed for swimming,” Petra said.

  “Neither am I, yet here I am, waltzing about in the water,”

  Petra considered it for a moment. It’s not like she would need to strip all the way down to feel the water, she could just do what Agatha was doing.

  “Fine,” Petra let out in a sarcastic drawl.

  She reached down and loosened her shoe ces, sliding the sneakers off her feet, then careful not to get any sand in her socks pulled them off and tucked them carefully into the shoes.

  As soon as Petra pced her feet on the ground she regretted it. The sand was cold and the clumps clung sharply to her skin. But she had to push on. Her feet dug into ground, pushing the grains of sediment to the sides of her feet. When she finally stood up Petra found herself standing inside two small holes her feet had mindlessly dug.

  She took one step forward and the water rose to finally greet her. It was warm. The tide gently kissed at her skin, calling for her to journey deeper yet again. Petra didn’t dare go further, lest her pants become soaked and wet denim is never comfortable on the skin.

  As Petra skimmed through the water towards Agatha she was met with a devilish idea. She cupped her hands together, interlocking her fingers. Bending over she submerged her hands into the warm water. Petra filled her hands with water and then made a water tight seal.

  She stared down Agatha as she waded closer to make her move. She was careful not to divert too much of her attention away from her hands, lest the seal break. Agatha spins around and catches the grin on Petra’s face.

  “What are you so giddy about?” were Agatha’s st words.

  Petra pointed her hands towards Agatha and squeezed out the water from her makeshift water gun. A steady stream spouted out drenching the front of Agatha’s shirt. Petra was perhaps seventy percent successful, the thirty percent being the small amount of water that sprayed back at her.

  “You bitch,” Agatha said, a hint of sarcastic anger bled into her pyful tone.

  Agatha bent down and slid her hand across the top of the water, sending a wall of water right at Petra.

  Petra gasped as the water collided with her. The front of her clothes now clung tightly to her body. As she adjusted the shirt Petra felt the wet fabric chafe against her chest. Petra pulled the shirt away from her body to try to dry it out quickly.

  “Aww, does Petra not like her clothes being wet?” Agatha mocked in a childish tone.

  “I hate you,” Petra joked.

  “You started it,” Agatha shot back. “I take revenge very seriously.”

  The tide continues to ride up against Petra’s leg. She stands frozen for a moment her gaze lost against the void in front of her. Another thought floods her mind as the inky waters tug at her again and again.

  Petra gnces back at Agatha. Reluctantly Petra peels the wet shirt from her body and tosses it carelessly towards her shoes. She tries not to think about how her body is now bare for anyone to see, and pushes towards her goal.

  Petra stands an arms length away from Agatha.

  “Well then since we’re both already wet you won’t mind if I do this,” Petra reaches out and wraps her hands around Agatha’s arms. Petra pulled at Agatha as she plunged herself into the water.

  The st thing Petra heard was Agatha letting out a quick yelp before the two struck the water and fell below its surface.

  A shock made its way through Petra’s body as she y submerged in the shallow water. The sand and dirt had been disturbed and a cloud of dust encapsutes the two girls.

  Agatha floats just above Petra, their eyes just barely able to pierce through the dust fix themselves on each other.

  Agatha slowly moves a hand through the water down towards Petra’s waist. Her fingers are electrifying against Petra’s skin.

  Too electrifying.

  Petra’s heart quickens. A vision fshes before her eyes. A man standing uncomfortably close to her, touching her, grabbing her. Petra screams and tries to take a breath but her lungs are met with a current of ke water.

  She begins thrashing about in a panic. Petra aggressively pushes herself away from Agatha and leaps up from the water. Spouts of water slowly come out of Petra’s mouth as she tries to exhume the fluid from her lungs.

  She nearly doubles over back into the ke but manages to make it to the shore before she colpses onto the sand. Agatha sits up in the water and slowly rises to her feet.

  “Petra are you alright?” Agatha cautiously approaches Petra.

  “No!” Petra swats at Agatha, her figure distorted and overpping with that of the man. “Stay away from me!”

  Petra frantically begins crawling backwards away from Agatha. The illusory man, a filthy drunkard appears before her. He ys atop her his arms gripping her flesh. The sand melts around her being repced by the sensation of sterile tile. The tiles stretch high above sealing Petra into a vault with only her and the man.

  Petra shields her eyes and screams out at the man. She no longer feels the invasive touch and peers through the cracks of her fingers. Through blurred vision an amalgam of flesh and blood y rotting in a pool. His essence stains Petra’s hands and mouth.

  The blood is spreading, coating everything in sight. The vitality of the man pouring from his neck like the most regal of fountains. The body twitches, the bones snapping and contorting to form new unholy shapes.

  The flesh stretches, new limbs sprout from the broken bones. Rapidly grown sinew and muscle wrap around the body, feeding it with material to grow.

  Petra has nowhere to move, trapped against the closing walls of this room. The fleshy creature mutters incoherent gurgles of blood. The freshly grown limbs scratch and cw at the tile around it dragging the pulsating body towards Petra. She seems to shrink as it approaches. Her screams become silent, her voice broken.

  Two arms reach and cling to Petra, slowly wrapping themselves around her. Another cw slowly rises to meet Petra’s face, the long red nails dig and scrape away at Petra’s skin.

  She hears another wave of gurgles, this time she is faintly able to make out the slightest hint of verbiage. The thing is trying to say her name. It repeats it again the volume and crity growing each time.

  Petra’s body begins to go sck. The pain too much to endure the reflexes in her brain start shutting down one by one.

  “Petra!”

  “Petra!”

  “It’s alright, you’re okay.” Agatha’s words cut through darkness. “What ever you’re seeing it’s not real, there’s no one else here it’s just us.”

  Agatha was holding Petra tightly to her. Petra tensed up and tried to break free only to immediately stop and let herself melt into Agatha’s arms.

  “He tried to touch me,” Petra whispered. “He wanted my body, so I killed the creep.”

  She wasn’t speaking to Agatha, in fact Petra wasn’t aware she was speaking at all, her thoughts just bled from her tongue.

  A faint ugh escaped Petra’s lungs. It was stifled by the final drops of water escaping.

  “I’m not a murderer, I’m a bloody hero,” Petra clenched her fists.

  The nightmare lingers in her mind. An unfortunate truth revealed to her. The memory now loud and angry within her. There was no guilt to be had st night. Only pain from the things he did.

  It eased Petra’s heart, if only a little. She still didn’t like that she killed some one, at least she was able to justify it to herself.

  Petra rexed and slid from Agatha’s arms into the sand. She sprawled herself out, the cool midnight sand eating away at the heat her nightmare had produced. Agatha id down next to Petra and looked up towards the stars.

  “Do you have a favorite?” Agatha asked.

  “Favorite star?” Petra rolled head towards Agatha.

  “No, favorite consteltion,” Agatha pointed up and began tracing lines in the air. “I’ve always been fond of Cygnus. It’s that one there.”

  Agatha traced two lines that cross each other. One going up and down, that bows slightly to the south and the other a near straight line.

  “They say it’s supposed to be a swan, I don’t really see it. Looks more like a bow and arrow to me, but what do I know.” Agatha shrugged slightly. Her arm fell to her side and it grazed Petra’s hand slightly before Agatha drew it closer to herself.

  “I’ve never really gotten into consteltions or the stars I don’t think. I have not even a hint of a memory regarding it. Just bnk,” Petra said.

  “Well that’s a little sad,” Agatha said. “I spent about five years learning all I could on the stars. I love them.”

  “That sounds nice, to be so passionate about something. To know what you like,” Petra said.

  “I could teach you? Then perhaps you might be the passionate one,” Agatha poked Petra’s hand.

  “I don’t know that sounds like it’ll take a while,” Petra took in the sight of the stars then lowered her gaze to the park and ke around her.

  “What like you’re pressed for time?” Agatha rolled closer to Petra. “I know you have nothing else better to be doing.”

  “Fine, teach me your ways of wise one,” Petra joked.

  “Prick,” Agatha pyfully hit Petra’s hand again.

  Agatha made her way across the sky starting near the horizon with Andromeda, Pegasus, a partial Aquarius, and Capricorn. Petra was almost instantly lost but the ease with which Agatha spoke captivated her. Agatha pointed out the different types of stars, the lore of the names, certain quirks that the scientists who discovered the stars had.

  The stars drifted across the sky. Agatha had been lecturing about the sky for hours, and Petra had tried her best to stay awake and take in as much information as she could. She thinks she did an alright job and could probably point out at least three of the probably twenty or so consteltions Agatha had pointed out.

  “Hey, are you feeling better?” Agatha asked.

  The subtle orange and red glow faded onto the horizon, they hadn’t realized how long they had been on their “walk“. Dawn was approaching and soon they would have to leave, and go back to to their lives, what ever those happened to be.

  “Yes, thank you,” Petra hesitated. “You’re really great, you know that.”

  “Oh, thanks, it’s nothing. I try I guess,” Agatha said.

  Petra could hear Agatha shifting around in the sand. Petra rolled over to face her. The glow of the morning sun bounced beautifully on her skin. Agatha pivoted her head and locked eyes with Petra. Agatha’s eyes were a silvery portal that Petra became lost in.

  The two carefully brought their hands towards one another. The sand exfoliating the underside of Petra’s skin. The sensation crawled along her body making Petra suddenly hyper aware of her own form.

  She pulled back.

  “No, I’m sorry… I can’t,” Petra sat up and turned away from Agatha.

  “It’s ok,” Petra could hear the sadness in Agatha’s voice.

  “We should probably head back,” Petra said. Agatha silently nodded.

  The two gathered their things. Petra put on her still slightly damp shirt and they silently walked back to Agatha’s apartment.

  When they made it back the sun was in full bze. The streets were beginning to be flooded with morning workers and those, like Petra and Agatha, who had yet been to sleep.

  Petra collected her cooler of blood and made her way back to the door.

  “Talk to you ter I suppose?” Petra asked, her foot stopping the door from closing.

  “Yea, talk to you ter,” Agatha tried a friendly wave.

  It was at least a small blessing that Petra remembered her own apartment south of here. And much to tired to carry both herself and her food she called for a taxi to take her.

  She thanked the driver and made her way up the stairs and into her room. With the little energy she had Petra sorted the blood into the fridge and then dropped herself onto her bed.

  After an uncomfortable amount of time of trying to disrobe without getting out of bed. Petra y in her underwear and under the comfort of bnkets. Before she could fall asleep her phone hummed with the news of a text.

  Maria;

  Coffee?

  Pasta-Gal