#5 - Cassettes

In the last two weeks, Ava felt as though she was tiptoeing around everything. 

Around the dinner party. Around the entire city. Around her brother. 

Jake hadn't been causing as many problems as she expected him to. It wasn’t comfortable, though. They ate dinner together, sitting at her table in silence. Ava couldn't bring herself to look him directly in the eye. If she did, she was afraid she’d break. 

On this particular afternoon, Jake was leaning on the kitchen counter, eyes narrowed as he looked at a wrapped box.

“Do you know who sent this to us?” he asked her, turning it over in his hands. The paper was red, almost as dark as blood, with a gold ribbon tied across it. 

“To me, you mean?” Ava said. “My name’s on the lease, not yours.” 

Ava felt his star boring into her. “Does it really matter?” 

“Just open it,” Ava said, irritation seeping into her voice. 

Without a further comment, Jake tore through the paper and lifted the lid. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I don’t get it.” 

“What is it?” 

“It’s, well,” Jake began, reaching into the box to pull it out. “It’s a cassette tape.” 

They spent the following hours searching for a cassette player. They had one, somewhere, in their storage unit. The tape wasn't much, just a collection of songs from the 70s that Ava had never heard before. Jake didn't think much of it, but its melancholy feeling left her unsettled. 

When they went to the Christmas tree lighting, Ava carried it with her in her purse. 

The ceremony was nothing special. It was the same as it had always been. The entire apartment complex was huddled together on the roof, waiting for the lights to drown out the stars in the sky. 

After, Jake decided to go home. Ava decided to take a walk. 

She found herself wandering aimlessly, so lost in her thoughts that she would up at the pond. It was somewhere she didn't come often, as she preferred to sit on the shore of the beach and dig her toes into the sand. 

She sat on the dock after taking her shoes off, letting her toes skim across the freezing surface of the water. Ice was starting to form around the banks, and she was starting to lose feeling in her  feet, but she didn't really mind. 

As she began to feel the cold spread through her veins, she put her cassette on and wondered about the soul that could make such a sad playlist. 

#4 - Theatrics

Ava let her hands trail down the sides of her yellow dress. Maybe it was too bright, too bold for a murder mystery dinner. 

The invitation had arrived on her doorstep shortly after her brother arrived. She left him there, to unpack his things and catch up on sleep. She didn't want to go, really, but it was all anyone in the apartment could talk about. It seemed as though they had all been invited, and everyone was too curious to turn it down. 

When she arrived at the seventh floor storage room, it was no longer the vacant space she knew. A long, mahogany table stretched across the center of the room. The places were meticulously set, with white plates and shiny silverware to match. 

Her invitation indicated she was the sidekick, someone who was supposed to help discover the murderer. It was about 9:15 when the conversation and theatrics settled into full swing, and the clues were starting to make sense. 

Still, Ava felt unsettled. The unblinking eyes of the Ringmaster seemed to bore straight into her. They were supposed to have left the city already, she was certain of that. Yet, him and his striped pants remained, along with his shadow and his monkey. No one else seemed to question it in even the slightest way, but after the circus, his presence was enough to send chills down her spine.

Leaning against the back of her chair, Ava sat and watched, waiting for clues. She checked her watch. It was almost 9:30. 

A minute later, the lights shut off. 

Adrenaline coursed through her veins. This is it, she thought, this is when it will all come together. 

When the lights flickered back on, everything felt wrong. Across from her, a scream pierced the silence. The ringmaster’s sidekick was lying facedown in his soup, blood overflowing from the bowl. 

At first, Ava thought it was the dinner, the theatrics. Then Tom checked his pulse and declared him dead. She wanted to scream, to run out of the room with tears streaming down her face. She was just glad that she wasn't leaving the party in red.

#4 - Theatrics

Ava let her hands trail down the sides of her yellow dress. Maybe it was too bright, too bold for a murder mystery dinner. 

The invitation had arrived on her doorstep shortly after her brother arrived. She left him there, to unpack his things and catch up on sleep. She didn't want to go, really, but it was all anyone in the apartment could talk about. It seemed as though they had all been invited, and everyone was too curious to turn it down. 

When she arrived at the seventh floor storage room, it was no longer the vacant space she knew. A long, mahogany table stretched across the center of the room. The places were meticulously set, with white plates and shiny silverware to match. 

Her invitation indicated she was the sidekick, someone who was supposed to help discover the murderer. It was about 9:15 when the conversation and theatrics settled into full swing, and the clues were starting to make sense. 

Still, Ava felt unsettled. The unblinking eyes of the Ringmaster seemed to bore straight into her. They were supposed to have left the city already, she was certain of that. Yet, him and his striped pants remained, along with his shadow and his monkey. No one else seemed to question it in even the slightest way, but after the circus, his presence was enough to send chills down her spine.

Leaning against the back of her chair, Ava sat and watched, waiting for clues. She checked her watch. It was almost 9:30. 

A minute later, the lights shut off. 

Adrenaline coursed through her veins. This is it, she thought, this is when it will all come together. 

When the lights flickered back on, everything felt wrong. Across from her, a scream pierced the silence. The ringmaster’s sidekick was lying facedown in his soup, blood overflowing from the bowl. 

At first, Ava thought it was the dinner, the theatrics. Then Tom checked his pulse and declared him dead. She wanted to scream, to run out of the room with tears streaming down her face. She was just glad that she wasn't leaving the party in red.

#3 - Brother

Her roses were dying. 

They sat on the windowsill, brown creeping up the stem. The petals lay on the white wood, folding in on themselves. 

The cold was infiltrating everything. It crept into the walls, into everything it could get its icy hands on. Ava hated winter. It killed so much of the beauty in the world. That was why she moved to California in the first place, to escape the suffocating chill that never left her bones. 

Still, Ava didn’t want to be trapped inside her apartment. She was already alone enough as it is. Since she’s been back, it’s like everyone she used to know has become a stranger to her. After the incident, she didn't think she’d be able to come back. Maybe she shouldn’t have, after all.

The only person that she really interacted with was that boy from the tattoo parlor, the one who never seemed to pull his head out of the clouds. She spent all day trying to pick out photos to give to him to hang up in the store, and finally picked her favorite three. 

One was a picture she took from the greenhouse. It was the first time she was ever able to catch it while it was open. Rows and rows of flowers and beautiful green leaves, like a never ending maze of pastels.

Another was one she took of the mountains just outside of San Francisco. She wanted to remind herself, to remind everyone, that that kind of serenity—the kind found at the peak, watching the sun rise—is truly attainable. 

The last was one she took of her room. All the yellow glistened in the sun, and the clutter seemed staged. Clothes strewn everywhere, rolls of film left on the floor waiting to be developed. 

She was going to take them to him, but a knock echoed throughout her apartment. 

Someone was at her door for the first time. 

With hesitant steps, she opened the door. Her jaw dropped. 

In front of her stood her brother, just as pale and skinny as ever. His shocking blue eyes matched hers, except his lips pushed his frost bitten cheeks into a grin. 

Heart racing in her chest, Ava took a step back. 

“Jake?” she asked, breath almost catching in her throat. “You shouldn’t—there’s no way you’re here. After what happened… I don’t understand.” 

“That’s no way to greet someone, Ava,” he teased, patting her head. Ava flinched. “Why don’t you let me inside and we’ll… catch up.” 

Before Ava could even answer, Jake had stepped into her apartment and shut the door behind him. 

#2 - Gold

Ava saw the tent from her window earlier this morning. The gold that glimmered so brightly, it made the sun seem dull. It was mesmerizing, it captivated her attention as she ate her usual breakfast, a heaping bowl of blueberry oatmeal and strawberries with whipped cream. 

The circus was all anyone could talk about. It appeared out of nowhere. A seemingly vacant edifice that materialized out of thin air. It rose with the sun, and, according to the flyer that was on the lamp post, it would be disappearing with the sun, too. 

It was about 7 o’clock now, and Ava stood inside of the black iron gates, clutching her ticket and her camera in one hand. The gold was like a magnet, drawing her closer to the main tent. She slipped inside, her blue eyes widening. Rows and rows seats lined the inside. It seemed to contain the entire universe with its size, like there was nothing more grand than this circus. 

Ava trudged up the stairs to to the top row, and found a seat right in the middle. She wanted to be able to see everything, to get the broader perspective. She didn't want to miss a single thing. 

In the center of a ring stood two small children. They couldn't be older than ten, but one was completely engulfed in flames, and the other was building a castle of ice. Jaw agape, Ava took a picture, in fear that if she didn’t, she would wake up tomorrow and thought she dreamed the whole thing. 

It was then that she saw him. The boy from the tattoo parlor she had seen around town a few times. The night owl that seemed to sleep less than she did. Just looking at him, she felt warm, knowing that there was a familiar face in the sea of strangers who understood what it meant to be an artist. He was drawing in a raggedy notebook, his head buried in the pages. 

He was missing everything. 

“Hey!” Ava shouted at him. “Look at the world around you. You might overlook something incredible.” 

He turned his head slightly, and offered her a small smile. “Sorry.” 

And with that, he closed his notebook.

#1 - (Appt. 1309) Leica

The day started with spilled tea. It crept down the side of Ava’s counter, staining the white marble with the remedy for another night’s lack of sleep. 

It was the rain that kept her up. Usually, it lulled her to sleep, but something about this storm was different. It had an air of mystery to it, one that wrapped itself around the entire city like a thick cloak. The water covered everything.

Ava glanced at the soft pink clock on her wall as she wiped up the Chai tea that was still warm. It was 5:30. She was awake before the sun had even started to cross the sky. Around her, the earth rattled. A sudden flash of white lit up the room for a split second, and she was immersed in darkness once again. 

It hadn’t rained since she returned from San Francisco. The city was too busy for her. Everyone and everything in it moved too fast, so she returned home, back to the run down part of town that shaped her. 

The rain was too beautiful, too new, to just sit inside and watch it from her window. It was the kind of storm that demanded to be felt, to be captured. 

Ava raced to her bedroom, stepping over piles of clothes and stacks of records to find her raincoat. The bright yellow was easy to spot, hanging from her closet door like it knew she was going to come looking for it. She slipped it over her shoulders and threw on the worn-out red Converse that she wore every day. 

Before closing her door, she decided to grab her camera. It was a Leica, one that her grandmother gave her before she departed for the west coast five years ago. The roll of film in it was only half used. Ava tended to save it for special occasions, for awe-inspiring sunsets and couples dancing, and she deemed tonight as one. 

Outside, the rain pounded against the sidewalk. Water lapped at her feet as she walked. It trickled into her shoes as if it had always belonged there, and although the shock of the cold sent shivers down her spine, she pushed on. 

She walked until she could see the abandoned park from Canary Street. It had always been her favorite place to go when she was in high school. It felt right to revisit the place she spent so many sleepless nights. 

By then, the rain started to lessen just enough for her to be able to see if she squinted. Carefully pulling her camera out of the pocket sewn into the inside of her rain jacket, Ava raised it to her eye. She wanted to wait for the perfect moment to capture. It was the last picture left on her roll of film, and she had to make it count.

It was as if the heavens were on her side, because as she clicked the button, lightning hit the ground and illuminated the entire city.

For a second, she swore she saw a man lingering by the fountain, but it had to be a trick of the light. Shaking her head, she returned home. 

No one was crazy enough to brave this storm, except Ava, maybe.