Natasha ‘Tasha’ Preston

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“I like fruity pebbles…. I’m chasing a rainbo high…. And she keeps running. I only want you for you—"

I smiled. This was proof. Proof he did know me. Mr. Goon motioned. I nodded. I stashed the phone in my bag as I made my way to the car.

Tassa phone Multiple voicemails. Dealers. Delete. Runners. Delete. Debts owed. Delete. Him. My finger hovered… delete or play. Delete or play?

I listened.

The one I had thought I lost. Broke. Smashed. It was a beacon in the darkness. 

Too many missed calls. Only one number mattered. Him. I looked up and saw him… seeing me. Our eyes met but he kept moving. Inside. Away from me.

I stayed even after Patricia left asking me to come see her tomorrow. I didn't want to. 

Mr. Goon sat beside me at half past 8, my red iPhone of before in his hand. "Preston said it was time…" I looked at the phone. It was Tassa's phone.

I just kept toeing the sad remnants of my lunch and my eyes never moved from the curb. I couldn't see him not see me. I couldn't watch him in his life that didn't have me in it. I didn't move. I would spend my whole day here as I had in the past.

Lost. Dissociating.

"You didn't even ask him…" I angrily spat at the way she accused me of delusional thoughts. 

"I didn't have to," she motioned to the door he was exiting and he was lost in whatever he was doing.

He had never been gone this long. Mr. Goon kept saying all was good. Nothing was. My eyes drifted from the sandwich to the shop. 

"Tasha, we talked about this … if he was aware of you he would have made it known."

Delusional.

If I could prove he knew me. If I could prove that we had something. I could have kept him. So here I sat. Sandwich on the dirty ground from where I let it fall as Patricia sat down. 

Preston was still on a run, I was growing worried.

The park bench bit into my legs today. It felt like torture. Patricia had found me. Mr. Goon had found me. Walls were closing in, trapped and I felt alone.

Will he see me today? 

I stopped leaving gifts. It was not part of my detox. obsessive disorder.

I was working at my brothers ‘front business’ as the secretary. I usually could get an hour's lunch on this bench every day. I could easily use eating lunch here as an excuse to be here.

I’d watch the patrons come and go with new art etched into their flesh.

I smiled and laughed at the ones who tapped out with less than a line put down. My phone vibrates from Mr. Goon who asked why my location was off and why I left the office.

At lunch time I sat on the bench. Triangle wedge sandwich. More meat than bread and cheese with no crusts. I slowly took the smallest of bites to savor this moment. I usually could watch his entrance or the others of the shop.

Now it was all over Mr. Goon. I hadn’t learned his name. Tossing a towel with a sorry. He scared me but I was always apologizing for things out of my control.

I walked away. To change to just not be around anyone. He was watching me. My brother's request.

Pacing the apartment was my go-to when I couldn’t sleep without reminders. Neon lights blinking reminding me of the past.

“Your brother extended his trip…” came the gruff voice that had my heart jump. I dropped the plastic jug of milk I was going to suck down.

I begged, Fin and Luka were bickering and the phone was pressed to Luka's ear now.

Keep me in the dark.

Let the sun burn me.

The touch cleanses me.

Red.

Red.

My dreams had been red hair in inked hands.

I hated myself for caring. I couldn’t keep up with my mad mind.

My brother had an air about him. Danger. Knifes edge. Cut so deep you will die!

Fin took the sparkly pink from Skeletor and his hand was back on me. It burned my skin alive and gave me hope that I'd be gone soon. More please.

I know it's over. I miss him even if it's over…I'm falling, tumbling, I've hit the bottom.

"Hello…hellow…. This is Tausha's phone. No, she is otherwise indisposed to phone calls…"

It wasn't my brother because he wouldn't be so calmly speaking to him.

I'd forgotten I had an appointment with Patricia. I was forgotten.

Red tresses touched his hands.

Smudged lips glossed up for him and leaned into his ear… I witnessed the moment. It passed between them. It spoke all I needed.

I wasn't wanted.

I miss you…

My phone lit up so many times as we drove along the ocean's edge. We were flying through the valley of deaths. Dark was light. The light was burning my soul. Cleansing my sins. I had forgotten my brother was waiting for me for dinner after the event.

Well, he was perched in the middle of the seat trying to sway me to his side.

His breath smelled of nutter butters.

Did he eat them all?

Good morning… fingers had streamers as I waved them in front of my eyes.

Hello monster… Hello me… do you miss me? Good morning moon…

"That's the sun Taaaausha!" The way he elongated my name and caressed my chin with his forefinger felt wrong. I turned away.

Luka was driving, Finn was riding shotgun and… Skeletor, Mr. No name as I'd forgotten.

Still Don't Know My Name Labrinth · Euphoria (Original Score from the HBO Series) · Song · 2019

open.spotify.com/track/6N22FZ...

#TriggerWarning

「 Don't know my name 」

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His laugh was like a hot cup of coffee and I felt awake for the first time in a long while. "I'm so tired…" I added, as I walked away.

We are the same. I was hiding and he was too. 

"I had wished you'd find me…" I whispered to the new journal I slipped into his bag as he spoke in low tones from person to person.

of the time I could have given up already. I know this world is done with me. Once done with the client in his chair he seemed reluctant to stand. To take the praise. His hood was back in place like a shroud to keep his own heart safe. I smiled.

For a moment… I felt the stillness of real.

A moment…

I am fighting… 

But, this world is done with me… 

Even my beliefs can make it real. He will leave with one or many of them and I'll be left to pick my heart up. 

I am tired of tears…

That he was giving into them for my anger later that I'd lay into him. Mark up as mine. I would show my claim to him. I spied my journal peeking out of his bag, it gave me hope for a moment. That my fake belief was real. That my daydreams were real.