My brand new series!--Denial #1

Basically,surrealistic weirdness...original fic. No idea where this is going. Enjoy...or don't.

Denial—Pt. 1

It all started with one moment of complete and utter silence. Then a crash. Then she died. No, really, the girl in question, Aya, died. As in her heart stopped beating, her lungs stopped breathing, and they all knew she never should have been alive in the first place. Under the circumstances. Maybe she was a lab accident, maybe assault, but even she, only three years old, knew she shouldn’t exist. And she had no one, no family, and no one cared. The crash happened when Nine-year-old Lexi was trying to driver her mom’s pickup.

          Yes, she was only nine. Yes, Lexi was weird, and she knew it. She was also a prodigy, she could speak to certain animals, and even sing. Very loudly and off-key, but she could sing. Maybe she was good at everything, maybe she was horrible at it all. Maybe she didn’t care. All she knew is that she killed a girl. And from that moment, Aya was part of the family. Sort of.     

          It’s weird for people to come back from the dead, and even weirder if they’re three. She was small for her age, had not grown properly. She really shouldn’t have survived, even if she was supposed to be alive in the first place. But things happened. And Lexi was weird, and she was crazy, but she didn’t want to be. She tried to hide it. And by high school, she succeeded.

PRESENT DAY—LEXI

“Yeah sure, I was probably terrifying as a kid, whatever.” The girl look at me quizzically, staring at my fitness-trainer-worthy body.

          “How did you--?”

          “I work out.” I tell her, promptly.

          She laughs, “Girl look at that body!”

          “I’m Lexi and I know it!” I laugh.

          “I’m Gabi. Hi!” She flips back her short pink hair, revealing her stunning eyeshadow. She steps back, and I see she is wearing a Hyun-a t-shirt. She looks like an anime character, she is so perfect, but I don’t say anything. “No really? You work out?” She says casually, examining her phone, “And I’m just tryin’ to get a date.”

          “Sorry, I’m not interested.” I tell her quickly. I’m straight, always have been, I guess that’s one was I was always “normal” but I’m really not sure.

          “I didn’t mean—” she flushes, “Did you think--?”

          “No, of course not. It’s fine.”

          “Okay, you got me, I’m bi.”

          “Yeah. Saaaaaame.” A Black girl wearing a Star Wars shirt and ripped jeans comes up to us now, holding her phone up.

          “Whoa, Jaz, take it easy!” Gabi jumps back and puts her hands in the air, “You know I don’t wanna date you!”

          “I’m taken.” A third girl comes up to us now, her long, brown, wavy-ish hair covering part of her face, which is a shame, because her naturally light-brown skin practically glows. Okay, maybe I’m not straight, whatever. She is wearing a black leather jacket. “Hey,” she says, suddenly noticing me, “I’m Starr.” Her makeup is spot-on too.

          “I’m Lexi,” I say, grinning, “You look like Dua Lipa.”

          She flushes, “What?”

          “You know. The singer?”

          “I’m not British. Although I wish I was. I’m half-Mexican actually.”

          “Cool. I’m just boring dumb blonde.”

          “Lemme guess? Cheerleader?”

          “Yup,” I sigh, “Was in high school. Now I work out. Kinda miss it.”

          “Sure, whatever,” Gabi is back, “Let’s compare abs!”

          “Oh, hell no!” Jaz throws her hands up in the air.

          “You have good curves, Jaz. No need for abs.”

          “Fine, whatever.” Jaz tears off her shirt, (I’m already wearing a crop top, so whatevs) revealing her stunning curves. Gosh.

          Gabi is slightly less impressive, but still fit, while Starr refuses to take off her jacket.

          “C’mon, Dua! Taunt Gabi and Jaz, “Take it off!”

          “But I just met Lexi,” she groans, taking off the jacket, to reveal her t-shirt, “Call me Mrs. Tom Hiddleston.”

          “Oh, bullshit,” says Jaz, “Call me miss movin’ on.”

          “What? Dua is 22?” asks Gab.

          “Yeah. I’m 23. Close though,” she takes her shirt off and shows that, well, she has no abs, but she’s slim. Skinny even. But perfect.

          “And Tom Hiddleston is what, forty?”

          “He’s 37! Says Starr defensively, “And my name isn’t Dua.”

          “Whatever, Dua,” laughs Star, “Well, Lexi. Tell us more about yourself.”

…

There’s a slight problem with that, of course, because I’m not exactly normal. And it’s not that I was a cute little blonde prodigy either. No, it has more to do with the fact that I was raised in a sewer. Yup, you heard right, I was raised in a sewer. And even before I hit Aya with a truck (yes, I drove at nine, deal with it) I lived with my “parents” in a sewer. Yes, it’s kind of a long story actually.

          Basically Tana, my mom, found me smoking weed out back of 7 Eleven when I was four and decided that I didn’t have parents, and if I did, they didn’t care about me. I don’t really remember, I just know Tana thought I was a prodigy, so she took me home to where she lived with her part-time husband, Eduardo, underneath the city in the giant sewer system. It’s crazy some of the stuff we picked up in our little hole, some people tried to flush some pretty weird stuff—yes, there was an alligator once! But I guess that’s beside the point, other than the absolute absurdity of the anomaly that was Tana, Eduardo, Aya, and I. And Pax, but we don’t talk about him. I don’t know if it was a family or whatever, but I there was a cat too—named Zeus—yes, Zeus, and a dog who would come by sometimes—Aphrodite—that one was Aya’s idea…well, anyway, before high school, when Aya was eight and actually not dying, Tana decided to get her shit together and she moved to the basement apartment right near the sewer, not much better if you ask me, and bought some clothes at Goodwill and I acted like I actually got them at Forever 21. So, no one will know my secret. That I am nothing.

          “Oh, there’s not much that’s interesting. I used to be a cheerleader, I dated a few Chads and Brians, and we made out in an Emma’s van…I got C’s in school—not much to tell.”

          Gabi laughs hysterically. “That is the most fake-ass BS I have heard in a long time, girlfriend!”

          “No, really. It’s all true.”

          “There something she ain’t telling us?” Jaz says, and I realize she’s recording this whole thing to post to Instagram.

          Starr hums nonchalantly looking at her phone (probably photos of Tom Hiddleston.) and then I remember…

          “I’ll never be that girl again, no oh oh,

          I’ll never be that girl again, no oh oh,

          My innocence is wearing thin

          But my heart is growing strong,

          So call me, call me, call me

          Miss movin’ on, oh oh oh

          Miss movin’ on, oh, oh oh yeah.”

          Jaz exhales quickly, whistling. “Whoo! You can sing!”

          “So, what,” snaps Gabi back, “It’s not like she’s Ariana Grande.”

          “Ariana Grande has an unhealthy tone,” says Jaz, still salty.

          “I know all the words to Will Smith’s Miami,” chimes in Starr, “Because Tom Hiddleston—”

          “No one cares, Starr,” says Gabi turning back, “American music is stupid anyway. K-pop is the best!”

          “Everyone knows you’re really Japanese, not Korean—”

          “Excuse me, I’m American,” retorts Gabi, “Anyway, I love Hyun-a, BLACKPINK, 2NE1, f(x), PSY, of course….

          “What if I told you…”

          “Stop with the memes, no one cares.”

          “No,” I begin again, “This is real. What if I told you that I grew up in a sewer because this chick named Tana found me smoking weed outside 7 Eleven and I hit a girl with a truck when I was nine and she’s sorta my sister—”

          “You’re crazy, Lex,” says Starr, “Anyway—"

          “Don’t call me Lex.”

          “Why?”

          “Lex Luthor of course!”

AYA~~

“Wake up…” the voice is quiet as it comes from above, presumably. My body aches, and I don’t want to move. I have no idea where I am, and who is speaking, but I have one of those feelings: it can’t be good. Lex always thought that I became a psychic when she hit me with her truck…knocked some sort of sixth sense into me, but I never believed it. I don’t know who I am, or where I come from, only Tana, Eduardo, Pax, and Lexi, and it’s not like I ever talk to any of them. Fate is all it is if one is to believe in luck. I do. Luck and gods and magic and rituals. Superstitions. Horoscopes. Psychic ability. It’s just how I have always been. Who knows who or what is out there, but there isn’t much I can do about it anyway.

          “Wake up. Now. Get up.”

          “Objection would just get me in trouble, won’t it?” I am surprised at the sound of my own words as I sit up, blinking in the dim light.

          “Do you want a job?”

          “I don’t even know who you are?” I am staring at a tall ginger girl, dressed all in black with an aura of authority surrounding her. 

          “I am number sixty-three. But that is not important. Welcome, sixty-seven.”

          “Excuse me, but where am I?” I look at my surroundings, the office chairs that remind me of a waiting room at the dentist. “How long have I been asleep…?”

          “Two years. You were in a coma. I woke you up, they said it was a miracle, I called BS, but apparently you’re not supposed to be alive.”

          “I always knew that,” I remind her, “But I have been in a coma for two years?”

          “Oh yes. After the incident. And I can help you. You don’t have family so you?”

          For a moment I think of mentioning Tana and Eduardo, but I shake my head. I know that Pax is not to be messed with, and Lexi isn’t here.

          “Alright. Well, let me ask you again. Do you want a job?”

          “Who are you?”

          “I’ll tell you, once you take this job, Aya. Now listen.”