014 - luciana

Kayla's addiction was getting out of control. She fumbled the canister holding the powder around, feeling it with her fingers as it bounced in her pocket. The burning was getting to her, she really needed this right now.

She looked for an exit. Goddamn these family reunions, she thought, being out in the middle of a giant empty plot, amidst many acres of corn and bales of hay. Picnic tables lined the empty field, along with balloons and banners that read "Spritzer Reunion!" Everyone, everybody was wearing the same stupid red shirts with the same stupid slogan printed on the back, "Spritzers Add Spirit to Life!"

She looked down at her own shirt, remembering that she too was wearing one of these terrible red shirts. An old woman approached. She scared Kayla, tapping her on her left shoulder. Aunt Molly would have scared Kayla anyways, but when she was jittery like this, it was even worse. She visibly jumped.

"Kayla dear, what, have you been up to, it seems like just yesterday you were running around in your diapers! Oh, my, how time flies! Don't you graduate in May?"

This was the same terrible, pointless, and inane conversation she had had fifty times already this reunion. Everyone older remembered her when she was young, as if this was the only binding characteristic these people had with her besides a common ancestor somewhere.

"If this is the only reason we have to be together, then why the hell are we all here?" she asked herself, as her attention faded. Aunt Molly just stood there, waiting. Kayla's vision started to go out of focus.

Pinching her wrist, she brought herself back. If only for a moment, she needed to act normal, subdue the twitching, and contribute to this pointless affair. "Yes, Aunt Molly. It does seem like time's moving very fast! Yeah, I'm graduating in May. Excuse me for a moment."

Jumping off the picnic table she had been sitting on, Kayla ran off into the cornfield, in no particular direction. Once she decided she was adequately isolated, she felt around in her pocket.

The vial wasn't there. She didn't know how, there weren't any big holes in her pocket that she could find. Kayla started to lose it, tears started to form in her eyes. Then she looked around. No red shirts, no Aunt Mollys, no congregation of those pretending that they had a past, present, and future together.

Kayla felt better, the cornfield could be her drug.