Free Zoe Thanatos by Crystal Cierlak Page A

head, spearing into the water in a perfect line. By the time she
surfaced she was chilled to the bone and couldn’t care less. The water carried
her effortlessly for what seemed like hours, gently pushing her around the pool
until every last thought escaped from her mind.
    It was as if a reset button had
been pushed and she was starting over. For the first time in a year she had woken
up without the emptiness that had haunted her. It would take a while for
something to fill the space left behind by the emptiness, but she sensed
something small had already taken root. Zoe wasn’t all that different from her
backyard: barren and in need of nutrients. The small something she felt was a
seedling and with practiced care it could grow into something beautiful,
perhaps even worthwhile.
    She emerged from the water hours
later, prune-skinned and completely relaxed. She headed straight for the shower
and stood beneath a stream of hot water, washing away the chlorine, the salty
air of Ventura harbor, and the last remnants of Santa Cruz Island. It was her
fresh start in every sense of the word.
    Once clean, she headed straight to
the dresser in her bedroom with a towel wrapped securely around her torso. Out
of habit she opened the last drawer to pull out a pair of jeans, but stopped.
She’d worn the same clothes from the same dresser every day for a year, always
selecting the same sad uniform. In one of her earlier attempts to have fun, she
had splurged on expensive and stylish clothes in bright colors, patterns and
prints that every salesperson confirmed would make her look pretty/sexy/hot. But
when they produced nothing more than a hefty credit statement, she left them in
the closet, untouched and forgotten, and went back to wearing the same drab and
comfortable uniform of sadness.
    In one quick motion Zoe scooped up
every pair of nondescript jeans, the tee shirts in the drawer above, and all
other offending apparel that made up her uniform of sadness. She dumped them
into garbage bags and set them by the front door with a mental note to donate
them somewhere. With the dresser empty, she walked to the closet doors and
dramatically opened them with two hands, imagining a flock of moths escaping in
formation above her head. The room was filled to the brim with apparel sorted
by type and color; an army of footwear meticulously placed along one wall,
another wall of shelves lined with colorful accessories. It was an embarrassing
display of wasted wealth that made her cringe. Clearly she had gone overboard
trying to obtain the shopping high that seemed to elude her.
    No, she thought. I’m not
going to start the day feeling bad about myself. She was determined to feed
the small seedling inside of her with positivity. Her fingers moved along the
different fabrics, trying to find one that felt the most comfortable. There was
a beautiful but simple silk tank, a pair of nicely tailored twill shorts, and a
cardigan that looked like it was spun in wild gold thread. It sparkled and
gleamed in her hand as she moved it around in the midmorning light. She decided
on a pair of simple sandals from the wall of shoes when her eyes fell on a pair
of blue suede wedge platforms that were as outlandish as they were striking.
She grabbed them and placed the sandals in the empty space, then laid each item
out on the bed before heading back to the bathroom.
    After wiping the condensation on
the mirror from the shower she took a good look at her face. She barely
recognized the girl staring back at her. The perpetual sadness had left a
visible imprint on her face and drained her of color. She deliberately lifted
the muscles in the corners of her mouth and watched the disingenuous smile lift
up into her cheeks, shaking as if they didn’t have the necessary strength. She
would need to exercise her seventh cranial nerve more often if she wanted to
look like her old self again.
    She brushed and dried her hair,
misted the scent of gardenia on her shoulders, and