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She tries to nurse transient, forbidden melodies from her soul. Technically, this party is about demurely collecting change under drunken chaos, but for Sam, it’s about molding words out of thin air, gasps of smoke and shudders of music, closed eyes and faint sighs embracing the crop circles of sawdust in the carpets. It’s about muses slipping through fingers and curling around her toes. It’s about creating hope. But between the musical notes and spoken syllables of drunken propre is a fear. A fear that Sam carries with her throughout the hour. Kelly’s voice is a never ending nocturne that’s crying out between every breath that Sam takes. The music feels escalating, and Sam hates the uncertainty of it all. At the end of every beat and every melody, is something that Sam doesn’t want. Uncertainty that lingers for way too long.
Sam’s eyes slowly observe the area. Adam is nowhere to be seen. She knew that he’d be navigating the party with a lack of enthusiasm in every step, so it was inevitable that they’d get separated during the night. Sam had initially wanted to paint every view, every moment with colour, but Adam just made her see gray. A gray that never seemed to disappear. Even with all the neon in the dark, there’s no excitement. In the midst of all the intoxicating smoke, drunken silhouettes filled with an eye-catching youth, wish for a future. Sam wants freedom, but this party is nothing more than a cage for her right now. She tries to search for a key, an opening, but without Kelly she’s trapped.
Right. Kelly.
Sam’s mind loves Kelly. It’s almost an nauseating obsession at this point. Sam wonders if it’s logical, to be so consumed by a person. When Sam’s thoughts are on the brink of reaching insanity, Kelly gives her the hallucinations that keep her sane. She wants Kelly to just arrive at this godforsaken party, so that they can drive to the sound of freedom. Surrealism is painted in the sky by the stars that guide them through every nightly adventure. Sam’s hands always are searching for something. Something to play with, something to liberate herself with, yet she doesn’t know what she wants exactly right now. And she hates it. She wants to believe that Adam has given her what she needs, but anyone can see that she isn’t content. Everyone likes Adam. That’s just the way it is.
Kelly is passionate and reckless. With a voice laced with velvet, it’s no wonder Sam was still drawn to her carelessness. Although, Sam knows that Kelly is only doing things that will be their salvation in the end. Betwixt all the chaos, sweetness lies between every piece of Kelly.
So when Sam gets the news of Kelly’s death, she feels everything leave her body. Her throat is filled with piercing thorns that expose emotion in the most disfiguring way. She knows it isn’t her fault, yet she just can’t resist. Sam’s eyes look down.
Her bloodstained hands speak in a way her voice could never replicate.