I stumbled down the noisy, crowded street. The bright lights disorientating me. My eyes were blurry, and the misty rain that appeared to be suspended in the air rather than falling, was not helping my vision.
The cars were driving past slowly, stuck in the congested traffic. I walked erratically. My balance was off. My head was pounding. I was looking at my feet, my head hanging heavily. I mumbled apologies as I bumped into people, stood on their toes, knocked their hot coffee onto the damp sidewalk. I glanced upwards and my eyes caught sight of one of the most absurd scenes one could imagine, a llama poking it's head out of the backseat of a car.
Much to my surprise, the car stopped in front of me. It wasn't a particularly nice looking car. The door had a large dent in it, and the old paintwork - that must once have been bright red - was faded, chipped and scratched so it appeared to be more of a pink-grey colour. There was rust around the windows and wheels. The bumper was missing from the rear of the car. The llama looked at me as if to say hello. I started giggling, a sound I had not made in a long time. I turned to walk away, my head sinking back down, still smirking.
I continue trudging down the street. I still couldn't walk straight, although my head was pounding a little less after my little giggle. I walked past a loud vendor selling hot-dogs, the loud shouting of "HOT DOGS, HOT DOGS!GET YOUR HOT DOGS HERE! BEST ON FIFTEENTH AVENUE", was ringing in my ears. The strong stench of cooking sausages overpowering the smell of gentle rain and the smoke that was constantly hanging over New York. Somewhere close to me a car horn honked. My head jerked up. The pink-grey car was sitting across the sidewalk, and the driver was leaning out the window.
I blinked. The driver was a tiger. A large, strikingly orange and black tiger, with big sharp teeth, was staring right at me. His large paw motioned for me to come forward. I looked around at the people on the street. They were taking no notice of this car with a tiger driving it, sitting in the middle of the sidewalk. They kept on walking, the constant clicking of high heels and hurried phone calls was continued. I took a nervous step towards the car. The beastly animal motioned for me to come closer again. I took shaky steps until I was close enough to smell the beast's breath. Onions. He'd been eating onions.
"Get in", he said gruffly, a menacing smile spreading across his face.
"Aww, doll, don't mind him", came a high pitched voice in my ear. Startled, I realised it was the llama. "We just wanna talk to you".
I hesitated as I walked to the other side of the car, and flinched when I reached out to open the car door and recieved an electric shock.
My stomach was heaving as I lowered myself into the seat. The car smelt of dampness and animals. I was out of breath; as if I'd been running up a large flight of stairs.
"We know you ain't happy at the moment Jacqueline", said the llama, trying to pat my shoulder but kicking me instead. I stayed silent, focusing on my breathing, my eyes blanking staring out the window. Avoiding eye contact was vital.
"But you know there are people who love you and want to help you" she said encouragingly. Her voice was almost sickly sweet. "Like us".
The tiger smirked. She bit him on the ear.
"No. You're all in my mind. You're in my head. You're not real" I said. My voice was getting louder and shakier, "you're only saying that". Tears streamed down my face. I felt nothing. The car started to move. The wind from the open window was blowing my shoulder length red hair around my face. The sensation was likened to that which you would feel on top of a tall building on a dreary, breezy, grey day.
"I DON'T WANT HELP" I screamed. My voice breaking. The uncontrollable tears now blocking my vision.
"Okay if you say so" spat out the tiger bluntly.
My mind was racing. The numb feeling was gone, replaced by a surge of emotions. Images of my family flashed before me.
My little brother's sweet innocent face, so naive to the harsh reality of the world, his brown eyes looking sadly into mine when he realised I was too weak to lift him, but not understanding why. My mother, her round warm face, caring but not, her empty questions, implying interest but her eyes stared distantly into mine when I responded. My father's stubble when he came in to kiss me goodnight when I was a little girl, me smiling in my sleep as I took in his smell, the look on his face when he left, his eyes saying everything they needed to: "I don't want you anymore". My so-called friends, their bottomless promises, their fake smiles, their jealousy when I started losing weight - "how'd you do it Jackie?" they'd ask, my full lunch box sitting in my bag everyday never answered their question. No one noticed. No one cared. I screamed out again "LEAVE ME ALONE", not talking to anyone in particular. Myself, perhaps.
The emotions were wickedly running through my mind, as wild as my hair that blowing in the wind. Love. Pain. Fear. Anger. Hurt. Forgiveness. And then, darkness.
The car accelerated. I took a leap.
The car was flying. I was flying.
A final tear rolled down my cheek.
And then it was over.