Annabel and Mia

      "This way," Annabel motioned to me. The backpack's straps were rubbing against my bare shoulders, the pack itself bumping up and down rhythmically on my back. I wiped the sweat off my forehead, pushed my bangs out of my eyes, and carried on. It was such a hot day. Way too hot of a day to be walking around New York. It was my turn to carry Annabel and mine's stuff, packed into a plain black backpack, around the city for the day, trying to find a place to sleep. With the heat like this, I couldn't understand why we couldn't just sleep on the beach at Coney Island, like we did last night! We didn't mind running out of money that much, considering we still had some emergency money for food, and our cellphones, in case we wanted to bail. But on this, pushing-95 degrees, day, all I wanted was to be inside a nice, air-conditioned hotel room, with a nice, clear, blue, cold, pool. Of course, none of the hotels we'd stayed on on our trip were really that nice, but most of them did have AC, save the occasional dump or youth hostel. A few of them even did have a pool, however crappy. But, then again, it was never this hot before.
    Annabel lead us down a gritty avenue, the road filled with stands selling kitschy toys, leather jackets, straw hats. The vendors called out their prices and wares loudly, but I ignored them. All I was focused on was getting somewhere that was cool. And I didn't mean cool as in hipster-infested, I meant cool as in cold.
    "I know a park around here," said Annabel. "Come on, Mia. Quit lagging."
    "We can't get a damn drink somewhere? Come on, yourself."
    "There'll be drinking fountains and stuff in the park. It's small but it's still a park. And it has shade, too, so come on." I forced myself to hurry up, looking at the people walking by me who looked just as exhausted and hot as I did. Soon, we reached the park. We walked a little bit in and then set our stuff down. There was a few punk kids hanging around, various couples lying on the grass, a few hobos and an old man feeding pigeons. Typical park, save for the punk kids, I thought to myself. But I guess it was kind of typical, considering where we were. Down on the Lower East Side. I instantly took one of our blanket-towel-things out of our backpack and put it down on the grass, taking off my sunglasses and lying down. I closed my eyes, and the sounds of the kids yelling and the birds chirping floated through my head. They sounded muffled... They got quieter... Quieter... Quieter....
      I awoke to Annabel holding a cup of something, juice, maybe, in front of me.
      "Mia! Hey! You fell asleep. Here, I made friends with those kids and they gave me some Gatorade!", she said, pointing at the punk kids. "I saved some for you."
      "Huh?", I said, then turned back to the kids and nodded my head in thanks. Man was I thirsty. I downed the cup in about two gulps, wishing there was another.
      "Are you all rested up now?", asked Annabel. "'Cause I'm kind of bored. Let's go somewhere."
      "Mm... Yeah, I guess. Alright, let's go," I said, rolling up my blanket and stuffing it back into the backpack. "Your turn," I said, handing Annabel the overstuffed backpack. Annabel slung the bag over her shoulder and we started walking again. The heat was a little less this time; I figured it was getting later. And the drink made me feel better, too.
      Annabel and I walked down little curvy streets, into overpriced vintage shops, Chinese drug stores, so-called "World Famous" pickle shops where we managed to filch a pickle off the lady by telling her how we were moneyless tourists. Well, Annabel was born in New York, but still... Her family had moved and she didn't live here anymore, so we still counted as tourists. Anyway, I was born and raised in rural Minnesota, so I was definitely a tourist. Even though I was a city girl at heart.
    After finishing off our pickles (which probably did deserve the title 'World Famous'-- They were great!), we walked through China Town, around, and up again, until we were on some random avenue in the East Village. It started getting darker, gradually, and we weren't any closer to finding a place to sleep.
    "Jeez, Annabel. I don't want to be throwing the blame, but you are the one who knows this city. And I really don't want to sleep out on the street tonight." We'd done that two times before, the first was okay, a little scary, but the second resulted in us almost getting arrested. We'd also slept on the subway, but waking up in the outskirts of Queens isn't really fun for anyone. Man, if my parents knew that I was living this way, in New York City, to boot. They wanted me to stay in Minnesota and carry on the family practice of running the pharmacy, but I figured I could leave that up to my older sister. I went to college because I wanted to make something of my life. And now, on summer vacation, my best friend Annabel and I decided to just go around the United States, seeing how many states we could visit before we got distracted. And it turned out that New York was our distraction.
    "I know what we can do!," said Annabel all of a sudden.
    "What?", I asked curiously.
    "I did this once before, in high school. It was stupid, but it was kinda fun."
    "What is it, though?"
    "Okay. So, you know that street with all the accessory stands and punk stores on it?"
    "Yeah?"
    "That's St. Marks. People are okay there. It's not creepy if you just go up to someone hanging on the street and start talking. Well, most of the time it's not. But whatever, the point is is that we can meet someone there and if they're nice enough they'll let you crash at their place for a night, no charge or anything. I mean, it's kind of dangerous, but we've got instincts, right? And I think I've got mace in that bag, somewhere." We laughed.
      "You sure that'll work?"
      "Positive."
      "Then why didn't we just crash with those kids in the park?!"
      "Oh... Them. I wasn't thinking. Sorry. They're probably gone by now, anyway."
      "Yeah, I guess," I said. We retraced our steps to St. Marks and made ourselves comfortable on the steps of some building. I watched the people go by. Some were normal, wearing generic jeans and a t-shirt combinations. Some looked more fashion-y, with high heels and shiny leggings and designer dresses. There were hipsters, with big glasses and dirty hair. There were classic punk kids with studded leather and ripped clothing. There were scene kids with dyed hair and band t-shirts. It didn't look like any of them wanted to take us home. Annabel and I weren't talking, just looking, silently examining the people as they walked past us once, maybe twice or even three times if they were going up and down the avenue. I was beginning to doubt that Annabel's plan would work at all. I was tired. I would just sleep on the damn steps. But then, a guy walking near us caught my eye.
      He was carrying a skateboard under one of his arms, and was wearing baggy jeans, the kind I last saw on skateboarders in the 90's. His t-shirt advertised some obscure band and he was wearing beat up skate shoes. And he was gorgeous. Floppy brown hair and blue eyes, just like the boys I lusted after back in high school. I caught his eye, and he seemed to make his way over to us.
      "Hey," he said to me. Hmm... Maybe Annabel was right. Maybe people do randomly just talk to other people on this street. But still, it seemed a little weird...
      "Hey. What's up?" I asked him. This was weird. He was a total stranger. But he didn't seem fazed.
      "Hey!", Annabel cut in. "We're stranded. Run out of money. We need a place to stay. Think you can help us?" she asked. Jeez, I thought. Way to scare someone off. But still, the guy wasn't fazed.
      "Wow. That sounds harsh," said the guy. "What're your names?"
      "Mine is Annabel."
      "And I'm Mia."
      "Nice to meet you girls," he said, smiling. Oh god was he cute. But I had a boyfriend back at college. I couldn't. And Annabel probably thought he was cute, too. So we definitely couldn't, neither of us.
        "And your name is?" asked Annabel.
      "Otto," he said. "I'm assuming you girls aren't from around here."
      "Uhh... No," I responded.
      "Well, I used to live here but not anymore," said Annabel. "And I don't have family here anymore... So we kinda need a place to stay, just for the night."
      "Ahh. That sucks," he said. "You can crash with me for a night, it's cool. And I have AC," he laughed. It was still pretty hot out, even with the sun down. That was all I needed to hear. I needed AC so bad.
      "I'm in. Annabel?" I asked.
      "'Course! So, where d'you live?"
      "Well... You're lucky. I still live with my parents, I'm a high school senior, but they're not here for the weekend so that means you guys can crash." High school senior! I thought to myself. Way too young. He shouldn't even be that hot. It's mean.
      "Haha! Shouldn't you be throwing massive parties for all your friends or something?", asked Annabel jokingly.
      "Nahh. I don't want my house to get trashed," he said. We laughed. Otto, Annabel, and I continued on talking as we made our way over to the train. We got on a train at the stop, then got off and transferred to another one. After a few stops on that train, we got off. Otto lived in a tall, boring looking building around 50-something street. The lobby had fluorescent lighting and a sketchy looking doorman, and the elevator was dirty and smelled like pee. So far, so... bad. But whatever, it was only the place. Otto was nice, and my gut wasn't saying anything bad about him. I was the kind of person who trusted her instincts 100% back then. We got off the elevator at the 15th floor. The hallway was grey and ominous, with dim lighting. Annabel saw me looking worried.
    "Don't worry, Mia. These kind of buildings look kinda creepy but I had loads of friends who lived in them. They're perfectly safe and clean and stuff." I felt a bit reassured after that, but still didn't like the building.
      "What's wrong?", Otto asked.
      "Oh, nothing. Mia's just scared of your building," said Annabel, smiling.
    "Thanks a lot!", Otto laughed. He got out his key and unlocked the door of apartment 15B. It was pretty small, but regular, with white-wash walls and some Ikea furniture. Family pictures covered the wall.
    "The sofa folds out," said Otto, motioning to the blue sofa facing the TV. "I guess you guys can sleep there? Sorry there's not like a guest room or something, I dunno."
    "No, it's cool," Annabel said. Otto and Annabel started to get out the sofa bed, when I realized that my stomach was growling at me and I was insanely hungry. I hadn't eaten since I had that pickle, and that was all I had that day.
      "Hey, d'ya mind if I get something to eat?", I asked Otto.
    "No problem. There's, like, crackers on the counter, I think. And there's ice cream in the freezer," he responded. I went for the ice cream, due to the heat. It was a little better when Otto turned the AC on, but still.
      The three of us watched TV for a while, then talked about our lives and stuff like that. Otto went to Eleanor Roosevelt High School, about a mile away from his house. He didn't have many friends at his school, but he knew his best friend and many other friends from the nearest skate park. Skating was nearly all he did, it was  practically life for him. He didn't have a girlfriend, he had just broken up with his ex, Jamie, with whom he'd been going out with for about a year. He was down on St. Marks that day to get his lip pierced, but he chickened out last minute. Overall, Otto seemed like an interesting guy. Annabel told him about her childhood in New York, her brief stint as a singer and her one hit single at age 17, then how her 15 minutes of fame overwhelmed her and she decided that she hated the whole music business and how it manipulated people. I was kind of surprised. Annabel doesn't usually tell people about her hit song back in the 90's, era of teen-pop, called "Only You". She's usually pretty embarrassed by it; it's something she wants to keep in her past. So I was wondering why she was telling Otto. I ended up talking about my decision to fly the coop back in Minnesota and go to college in the Northeast, and how much my parents hated it. I even lost contact with them for a while, about a year, although I talked to them a bit more now.
    Time flew by. We were having fun, but I was tired. And yeah, I'll admit it, we did party it up a bit in New York. I hadn't had an early night in a while, and it was 1.00 AM.
    "Uhh... If it's okay with you guys, I'm gonna go to sleep," I said to the pair.
    "You're tired already, Mia?" asked Annabel. "Come on! Don't be boring."
    "C'mon, if she's tired we should just let her sleep. If you don't wanna, we can chill in my room," said Otto. There was something a little bit creepy about the way he said the last part, but Annabel didn't have a boyfriend or anything so I figured I'd let her do whatever with Otto... It wasn't gonna harm me, was it? Hopefully, it wouldn't harm her either.
    I took out one of our blankets and spread it on the bare mattress. I pulled off my denim shorts and changed into my more comfortable cotton ones. I already had a comfy t-shirt on, so I just fell onto the bed, into a deep sleep.
    I awoke some time around 3.00 AM. I've never really been a heavy sleeper. I heard Otto's voice coming from his room, but no Annabel. Hmm... I wanted to know if what he said before really was creepy, or if it was just me. I got up and put my ear to the door. He was speaking in a fairly hushed voice. It sounded as if he was on the phone, and I guessed that Annabel had fallen asleep.
    "Yeah... Yeah, two of 'em. Uh huh. Yeah, especially this one. Annabel. Huh? Oh... brown hair, blue eyes, I think, nice face... Haha! Yeah. Definitely. What? Now? You can? Well... Yeah, I suppose. No, Jake. I got 'em. That too. Haha! The other? Umm... No, not as good as Annabel. Still nice. Blonde hair. I dunno. Yeah, yeah, pretty good. Probably. I think she had a boyfriend, but whatever. Haha! Yeah, dude, I know! Okay. See you in like, ten minutes, then. Peace."
      Oh god. Shit. I didn't know what this meant, but it didn't sound good. And not as good as Annabel? What the heck? We were both equally pretty! Whatever, I didn't care about that, anyway. I just cared that Annabel and I would be safe. Her stupid idea! Maybe it worked out for her, but not this time. I needed to tell her. But she was in Otto's room... Whatever. I'd just say I couldn't sleep or something.
    "I can't sleep," I said, opening the door to Otto's room. A futon lay on the floor, there was a messy dresser, clothes all around the floor, and one lightbulb hanging from a string on the ceiling. Not an inch of wall was visible. It was covered in posters, magazine cut-outs, and skate stickers. I would've thought it a pretty cool room otherwise, but under these circumstances I didn't really care.
    "I can't sleep, either," said Otto. "But it looks like Annabel can." Annabel was lying, curled up, on the futon, fully clothed.
    "Well now she won't be able to, because I need to talk to her."
    "Sorry. I'm afraid she... Won't be waking up any time soon," said Otto, his features turning steely and creepy in the dim light.
      "What the hell?!" I yelled. "What did you do?"
      "Nothing! She's just... Really sleepy."
      "Yeah. Sure. What did you do, drug her? Kill her?!"
      "Calm down! Jeez!", said Otto, walking over to Annabel and gently shaking her shoulders. "Annabel..." he said softly.
      "Nnnnngggggyeahhhhhh....?" she groaned in her sleep, rolling over.
      "Oh," I said dumbly. I guess Otto was just joking.
      "So.... You wanna do something?"
      "Yeah? Like what?"
      "I dunno. Go out?"
      "Nah, not without Annabel. Oh... I heard you on the phone. Who was that?", I asked him. A look of panic flashed across his face, visible even in the dim light.
      "Oh, just my friend, Jake. He's gotta, um, drop something off."
      "Is that why you were talking about me and Annabel?"
      "He's one of my best friends! It's kind of a big event, having two cute random girls crash at your house," he said, getting closer to me. Christ. I might just have to forget about my boyfriend for a while. And I didn't know if Annabel liked him or not, so if I did, what would it matter? But what about age?, said my conscious. He's... Oh. He's only three years younger than me. That thought was pushed aside, along with almost all the others.
      "You okay?", asked Otto, even closer to my face now. His room smelled dirty, but his cologne smelled nice.
      No. I couldn't. I couldn't act like an immature school girl. I had a boyfriend, for god's sake! This was weird.
      "Umm. I dunno. I feel kind of tired all of a sudden. I'm gonna go back to sleep," I said, shaking my head, shaking my thoughts out of it.
      "Okay," Otto shrugged. "Have it your way." I made my way back to the sofa bed and pretended to be asleep. I still knew there was something up.
      A little later, Otto came out to the living room. He was on his phone again. My blanket was covering my head, but I could kind of see through it a little.
      "Yup, they're both asleep," he said, looking at me. "Let's roll." He flipped his phone shut.
      Damn. I was thinking... What's the best thing to do in this situation? If I get up, I don't think he would cancel whatever plans he was making. If I kept on faking sleep, I would probably be able to do something to prevent the plans... Hopefully.
      A little later, Otto walked to the door and opened it to his friend, Jake. Jake was tall and wore pretty much the same as Otto, sans skateboard. He had black hair down to his shoulders and wasn't as good-looking as Otto.
    "Hey! Otto, my man!," he said, high-fiving Otto.
    "Jake. Alright, we should wait a little because they are both asleep but, you know..."
    "Yeahhh." The two burst into laughter and high-fives. Oh sweet Jesus, I did not want to know what they had planned. What had Annabel gotten us into?! Speaking of Annabel...
    She walked out of Otto's room looking groggy. She tugged at the hem of her short shorts worriedly.
    "Otto? Who's that?" she asked. She looked pretty confused and out of it. I wondered maybe if he did drug her. I felt sick. Otto and Jake smiled, mean, menacing smiles, and turned to her. Jake rubbed his palms together. I thought people only did that in the movies! I felt sicker. I felt like I should do something. But there was no way I could take down two guys on my own.
      "Otto!", Annabel said, yelling now. "Wha--What?" Jake lunged towards her, and she slipped backwards. I couldn't stand myself to watch this, she was my best friend. Yet I couldn't tear my eyes away. I felt tears coming into my eyes, and I used most of my concentration to stop myself from throwing up. "OUCH!", she yelled as her head hit the floor with a dull clunk. Otto was still standing, smiling. I hated him. I heard the sound of metal, a blade, I heard it against something. "Wha-- What the hell?!" yelled Annabel. "STOP! NO! NOOO! AAAAAH!" Her scream was guttural, high, and pained.
      Oh Lord. I hoped I would wake up and see I was dreaming, I hoped I would wake up in the park and it would all be a bad dream. But no, the sweat on my blankets and on me was real, the nausea was real, and this, it was real. I sat up.
    "What's going on?" I asked, pretending to have been asleep the whole time. I rubbed my eyes in mock tiredness.
    "Damn!" said Otto, not looking at me but at Annabel.
Oh.
My.
God.
    This couldn't be happening. This doesn't happen. This happens in the scary movies I loved to watch with Annabel, not to us. There was blood, blood on the floor, blood on Jake, blood in Annabel's hair. In Annabel's mouth. On her shirt. Everywhere. Her hair was matted and I watched as Jake calmly walked to the kitchen, cleaned the pocketknife blade, and threw the pocketknife away. Seeing as neither of the boys had noticed me 'get up', I decided to be asleep again. I felt my cell phone in my back pocket. Thank god. But how could I call?
    "I need to go to the bathroom," I yawned, stretching my arms. Before the boys could do anything, I calmly walked over to the bathroom, stepping over Annabel, blood on the soles of my bare feet, pretending not to notice my best friend was lying, probably on her way to being dead, on the floor. I locked the bathroom door behind me and dialed 911.
    "Hello?! Yes, I need an ambulance. And cops. Some boys have just cut my best friend. Yes, cut. Yes, lots and lots of blood!" I said. I started to cry. But I couldn't raise my voice. "15B. 57th street, I think. The big grey building. Next to the theater," I said, trying to stop the sobs. "Thank you! Thank you, please get here quick...." I hung up the phone, just as I heard banging on the door. NO! No, they couldn't try to get in here.
    "Wait," said Otto. I heard him kicking something. Or worse, someone.
    "Yeah, she's dead," said Jake. I howled as quietly as I could. No. No, this couldn't be. It couldn't be. No. Tears streamed down my face at a faster pace.
    "Haha. Good. Bring her body down to the skate park, then."
    "Alright," responded Jake. I heard the rustling of a plastic bag, I figured they were shoving Annabel's body into it. More tears came. I was scared for myself, too. I didn't want to die. I had a life! I liked life! I liked life, I wanted more! Please!
      I heard the door slam and I figured Jake was taking Annabel's body downstairs, to go to the skatepark. How he was gonna get it there, I didn't know. But I didn't care, either, because now I heard banging.
      "Um, Mia! I need to use the bathroom. Real bad! Open up! Come on! I know you're in there!" he yelled, trying to be 'nice'. He still thought that I didn't realize that Annabel was dead. His nice-guy act made me sick. But I needed to play along. Damn.
    "Wait, sorry! Umm.. I was just gonna take a shower! Sorry!" I turned on the shower.
    "Couldn't you just wait until after? Please, Mia?"
    "Too late! Sorry 'bout that! I don't have any clothes on, don't come in!" I said, fake-cheerily. Thank god for acting lessons. It was pretty hard to be cheery at a time like this. I 'showered' for about ten more minutes, wetting my hair under the sink to make it look authentic. But all I really did was sit, fully clothed, praying that my last sight wouldn't be Otto's mom's face cream.
    This next part, I don't know so well. I wasn't there, I just heard it from other sources. The cops, mainly. Turns out, the police got there just in time. Well, not just in time to save Annabel, sadly, but Jake was caught. He made his way downstairs, past the sleeping doorman, but there was police outside, about to go up to apartment 15B, and when they spotted a boy with a bag shaped like a body with him, well, they're the cops, they obviously arrested him. They took Annabel's body from him, instantly started questioning him, and Jake gave in and told them the apartment. This is where I can take over again.
    I heard banging on the door, not the bathroom door, but the front door.
    "Open up! FBI!", and angry voice yelled. Relief flooded through my body. Thank god, I was saved. Hopefully. One last big bang on the door and I heard it fall down.
    "What-- What the hell?!" screamed Otto. I heard them handcuffing him and yelling at him. I heard stuff, but I didn't know what. All I needed was to be saved, so after I heard him being handcuffed, I opened up.
      "YOU!", screamed Otto, trying to hurdle at me, but the cops held him back. "YOU MESSED EVERYTHING UP!"
      "You're a goddamned SICKO! You're crazy!" I yelled right back, and started crying again. Big, fat, tears leaked out of my eyes. I didn't want to believe this, this whole situation. But it all was real. 100% real. I could touch, feel, and sense, everything.
      "Ma'am, I'm afraid your friend is dead. She was alive for a while, but she died just after the ambulances got there. I'm so sorry." Jake was wrong, she was still alive. And they could've saved her. But they didn't. They didn't.
      "NOOO!" I yelled. Why couldn't they had saved her?! My lovely, beautiful, awesome, best friend. She was dead, now. She no longer existed, and that was final. It wasn't fair.
      Otto and Jake were put in a separate police car and taken to the precinct for questioning and such. I was taken to a different precinct and I was questioned there, too. They asked me about Annabel and mine's trip. They asked me about our 'relationship', if you could even call it that, with Otto and Jake. I told them that we barely knew them and disgusted looks came over their faces.
    "Sick in the head," said one policeman, referring to the two boys.
    "Murderers," said another.
    "Need to be put away."
      All I wanted was to go home. My parents still lived back in Minnesota. I couldn't go back to school. Not after this. I didn't know what I needed. I still don't know what I need.
    I'm writing this on the plane from New York to Minnesota. I'm not sure what is going to happen. Nothing will ever be the same. I will never be the same. I hope that Otto and Jake get the punishment they deserve. Me? I am only thankful that I made it out of there without my blood on the floor, too. I am thankful that I'm alive. I just don't know where to go next. My mother said that they'll send me to trauma counseling in the city and that I can just chill at home for a while. My father, who still doesn't even like to speak to me that much, said that I can stay for as long as I like. My sister said I could help her out at the pharmacy to try and get my mind off things.
    But for now, it's forever implanted in my mind. Annabel's once-pretty face, twisted in pain, blood-matted hair, gashes by the side of her mouth and black-red blood seeping out of her neck, Jake and Otto laughing. I can't forget. I'm never going to forget. But I will have to get used to it.