My younger sister died when I was fifteen years old. I still remember the day, the hour. The screams as they bounced off the marble floor and down the stairwell of our apartment building. My mother, clutching my hand and digging her nails into my flesh as the doctors walked toward us, a bloody blur. It stays in my head, an ever-looping movie pressed against my conscious and subconscious being. It is my past and my reality. I am this moment.

"Cliff," I hear someone say. "Are you listening to me?" My vision shifts back into focus. I look up and see Carter gazing down at me, concerned.

"Sorry," I mutter.

"It's all right, child." He holds a look that says he doesn't think it's all right, but he does not want to press the matter. "I was just wondering if you could run out and pick up three dozen eggs for me. From Lillia." He places a few bills in my hands and pats the side of my shoulder.

I leave the church and make my way across the village. I moved to Mineral Town only a few months back, shortly after my mother passed and I could no longer afford our apartment. It hadn't bothered me, really. I had nothing to stay for. The apartment was nearly empty anyway, aside from the memories. Memories I could no longer surround myself with.

I pass by a few of the villagers as I walk through the town square. Three women happily chatter and gossip about the other residents, apart from myself, of course. The atmosphere of this village is calm and happy. After wandering from town to town, I stayed here because of that. I watch it at a distance, but I do not partake in its life. I am merely a stranger in an inn. Carter sees me, but he is careful. He does not trust me, yet he has been kind to me.

I approach the ranch. Chickens flutter and peck at the soil in the yard, searching for worms. I maneuver around them to get to the door. I knock. I wait.

A single ray of sun reaches into the room, hitting my bed precisely where I lay, half-naked and flipping through a magazine. My door is locked even though I know my mother and brother are gone for still awhile longer.

I glance at a page, my eyelids heavy. My eyes linger on the forms of men bent over each other, their forms defined and glistening. My hands move over my stomach slowly, feeling my skin. I turn the page. There are faces of ecstasy. My hand travels upward. It moves in soft circles. Another page. I study it. I moan. I flick to the next page, and my hand works at removing the rest of my clothing. The next page, and I drop the magazine, focusing completely on my body. I feel my body hot, my heart beating, my breathing heavy….

There is a knock at the door.

"Fuck!" I yell to myself, softly. "Fuck fucker fucking fuckhead!" The heat of the moment dies as quickly as it had began. I throw the magazine quickly underneath the mattress, pull my clothes on, and glance stealthily out the window. It is the strange new boy in town, Cliff. I stand for a moment, considering my options. I decide to pretend no one is home. I go back to my bed, flopping down on it and staring at the ceiling, waiting for the moment to end so that I can go back to my private ecstasy.

I hear a yelp from below. I jump up and look out the window again. I see one of the hens flinging itself at Cliff, pecking and scratching. I swear again and run downstairs, flinging open the door.

"Wanda, NO!" I yell, batting away the hen from the wide-eyed visitor. The hen flutters off to the other side of the yard, where it resumes its pecking. I look to the scraggly-looking boy. I see a few bloody scratches on his arms.

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" I say, pulling his arm over to take a look at it. "Stupid hen, she does that sometimes to people she doesn't know. Here, let me clean that up for you," I pull him inside, hearing small noises of protest from him but no actual words.

I watch awkwardly as the pink-haired, crimson-eyed girl dabs a cloth on my arm, apologizing all the while.

"I told Rick we should have built a fence for those damn hens," she explains, her hands moving quickly and gracefully. "This isn't the first time they've gone bat-shit crazy on someone. We are lucky people here are too nice to sue." At this she looks hurriedly up at me, afraid that she had just given me an idea.

"Oh, uh, no," I say, my tongue fumbling in my mouth, "it's okay. No real damage." I give her a weak smile.

She laughs good-naturedly and wraps a cloth around my arm, tying it off. "Okay, there. That should do it."

"Ah, thanks," I say, inspecting the work. It was a lot of cloth for a tiny wound.

"Hey, uh, Cliff, right?" she asks, looking up at me with her big, almost demon-like eyes. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but, uh, how did you get those scars? On your arms?"

My throat feels dry, my private life suddenly exposed. I choke out a couple syllables. "I, uh…, ahh-"

She looks apologetic. "Err, sorry, nevermind. I shouldn't have asked, I'm so stupid sometimes…" she says, her voice trailing off at the end, as if she is chiding herself.

"No, sorry, it's just that, I'm, uh, not really used to people asking," I say mutedly, feeling something like compassion for her. "They're from drugs. Heroin."

Her already pale skin goes even paler. "Oh," she says, but not in a judging way, as I expected. "Damn."

"Yeah," I say.

She shakes herself from the tension of the moment. "So anyway, why'd you stop by?" she asks.

I pull the bills from my pocket. "Eggs," I reply. "For Carter."

She nods knowingly. "Gotcha. Three dozen?" I nod in reply. "Okay," she says, moving toward the kitchen, "hold on a bit."

I watch as her small figure pulls open the lid to a large cooler in the middle of the room. I realize that she is strong for her size. My eyes study her as she is turned away. Her pink hair is slightly messy, as if she has just woken from a nap, but is still curled neatly, hanging down to her mid back. Her dress does her figure justice, outlining the curve of her body down into her tiny waistline, bustling out to highlight her ample backside. She is a girl I would never have associated with in the city. She is feminine and soft, innocent by my standards.

Suddenly she turns, holding the three cartons in her arms. She catches me staring, and my eyes dart to the other side of the room quickly. I feel my heart pounding in my ribcage.

Cliff's eyes are dark, his jutting brow creating shadows around them. I turn to see him staring, for an instant, at my body. I catch myself starting to laugh at how awkward he looks turning away. I can see that he is not a pervert, or at least not one that will act on it. I feel my body heating up, as it had not that long ago, and my mind tells it to stop.

I carry the eggs over to him. His mouth is slightly open, as if he is trying to say something, but no words come out. I give him a small smile and place them in his arms, careful to avoid the injury I had just covered.

"Here," I say. "On the house." I put my hand on his arm, meaning to reassure him. I leave it there one moment too long.

My heartbeat is filling my entire body. Her hand rests upon my arm, and I can feel our bodies drawing in closer to one another's. My throat is dry and breathless. I am unsure of what to do. A feeling of panic is setting in, and I can feel sweat start to form on my brow.

And then the moment stops as abruptly as it had began. We both jump and turn quickly toward the sound of the door of the ranch opening, and we see her brother walk in, assisting a brittle-looking pink-haired lady, who I take to be her mother. Their eyes latch onto us, and I feel her brother's gaze piercing me. Her mother's seems less aggressive, but wondering.

"Oh! Hi Mom, Rick," Popuri starts, moving quickly away from me and toward her mother, who she takes by the arm. "I was just assisting Cliff, here, with some eggs for Carter."

Lillia smiles warmly and welcomes me. "Hello, Cliff. I am afraid we haven't yet met. I am Lillia, Popuri's mother."

I nod as my greeting. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. I am sorry for the intrusion… I was, er, just leaving actually."

I look to Rick, whose glare is still fixed to me, and nod. I head for the door.

"Er, wait!" Popuri yells to me, as she runs back toward the counter. "You've forgotten your receipt." She quickly scrawls something on a piece of paper, runs back toward me, and pushes it into my hand. "Thanks again for your business." She smiles serenely, a smile that looks less genuine than before.

I thank her, avoiding her eyes, and leave the ranch.

I can feel my heart still racing as I watch Cliff depart. It will be awhile yet until I can think with clarity on what all had just occurred, and for the time being I know that I must shake all disturbance from my appearance so that I am not under much suspicion from my family. I ask my mother about her visit with the doctor and dismiss my brother's ongoing queries as to what he was doing in here alone with me.

I walk back toward the church, cartons of eggs in hand. I wonder at the previous minutes and try to figure out what exactly had occurred between myself and the pink-haired girl, or rather, was about to occur, when I decide to shake the thoughts from my mind. I feel as if I must have imagined something that was not really there, as I am prone to do. I realize that she is of a very different character than me, and must have been rather embarrassed at catching me observe her form. Perhaps she was about to reproach me for this display, or simply ignore it and forget about me entirely. I suppose it even possible that she will now go to the other villagers and tell them about my despicable behavior, that I should not be trusted, and perhaps I will again have to pack up and search for a new temporary residence. She is probably telling her family about it now.

And then I look down at the crumpled receipt that she had given me hurriedly on my exit. Only I find that it is not a receipt. Shocked, I read,

"Mineral Beach. Midnight."