By: Robert McCreadie

      The fluorescent light coming from Kalib's lamp shone brightly across the small dorm room he called home; too brightly as a matter of fact. Groaning, he leaned over and dimmed the lights a little bit to ease the pain they caused his eyes. Reaching a hand up, he rubbed his shaven head. It was hurting something fierce from the night before; or more precisely, three hours before. It was at that time that Kalib left the party, Amber, his friends, and everyone else to return home to his soft bed and pillow.
      Kalib had slept soundly for over an hour, eliminating the majority of the effects of multiple beers, but then awakened with his mind racing. The entire night, he was actually able to be near Amber at the party. Kalib smiled wide, remembering how much fun he had with her, how much he loved being with her. Kalib couldn't think of any other time that she had seemed so relaxed. It made him feel good to see her happy again . . . he wanted to always make her happy.
      Turning his attentions to what sat in front of him, Kalib dipped his paintbrush into a spot of dark pink oil-based paint and laid a splash of it on the canvas. Leaning back, he squinted and looked at the half finished piece. The image there was indistinguishable and incomplete. All that could be discerned were a few vague shapes, human in appearance; as well as several colored splotches. In the now dim blue light, the usually vibrant reds and pinks on the canvas looked almost black and gray. Kalib had been working on this particular piece for what seemed an eternity, and yet he felt only slightly closer to finishing it than the day he began it. The only part he had completed was the title, "Dreams". Still, working on it somehow calmed him. It was as if the journey was enough for now.
      The harsh ring of the phone jarred Kalib from his thoughts. With hands that felt like lead, Kalib fumbled for the phone, knocking over more than a few books and papers from his end table. His hand then managed to land upon the cold phone and pulled it from its carriage.
      "Hello?" Kalib mumbled, his voice strained and grating.
      "Kalib?" a woman's voice almost whispered.
      "Amber?" Kalib snapped back into reality at hearing his friend's voice. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"
      Then followed what seemed to be hours of silence. He just sat there, a chill breeze blowing in from the open window across his bare chest causing him to involuntarily shiver. He didn't even appear to notice. His only concern was for the woman on the other end of the phone. She now had his full attention.
      "I'm not sure," Amber sniffled, attempting to calm herself. "It's Jackson; he called me when I got home."
      Kalib sighed at the mention of this man's name. He closed his eyes and silently cursed nothing in particular. A wave of heat rushed his face, and Kalib felt his features flush. He was awake now for sure.
      "And what did he have to say?" he spoke through nearly clenched teeth. His voice was sharp and biting, but Kalib caught himself a moment too late.
      "The same old thing, Kalib," Amber sighed, seemingly not noticing Kalib's anger. "He just wont leave me alone. He wants to come over. I think he's been drinking again."
      The heat in Kalib's features amplified, and he thought his face might burn soon. Taking a deep breath, Kalib tried to even his temper. It helped only a little.
      "Why can't he understand I don't want to be with him anymore? Why is he being like this?" Amber burst into another fit of crying.
      Kalib's anger now fled his body. His face cooled once again, the feeling being replaced with one far more potent. An ache gripped his heart and an odd pain coursed through him. Something salty touched his lips, and it took a moment before Kalib realized it was a tear. Shocked at himself, he raised a hand to his cheek and wiped the water away. With a look of curiosity, Kalib stared blankly at his soggy finger tips. The light colored skin he inherited from his mother looked strangely dark in the pale bluish moonlight.
      "What am I going to do, Kalib?" Amber's voice caused his mind to focus again. "He sounded so angry. It scared me. I . . . I'm afraid."
      "Do you want me to come over?" Kalib asked, already searching through the clothes piled on his floor for a semi-clean shirt.
      "Would you please? I'm scared," Amber sounded almost surprised at Kalib's offer, as if this would be the first time this happened.
      "Of course, Amber," he said, "You know that."
      "Thank you," Amber exhaled, sounding relieved. "I'll see you in a few minutes then."
      "No problem," he replied, hanging up the phone.
      The iciness of Kalib's floor jolted the bottom of his feet as he lowered them to the floor. He yawned, taking in a deep breath that burned and tasted of stale beer. Kalib rested his head in his hands, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Tonight would be a long night.
      Why does she do this? he asked himself.
      Kalib pulled his baggy blue jeans up onto his body with little effort. A faded red button-up shirt Amber had bought him for his birthday the year before found its way into his hands, and over his broad chest. Slapping his hands on his knees, Kalib stood up. He grabbed his keys, and headed out the door into the yellow light of the street beyond.


      Jackson raced down the road in his banana and bondo colored camaro, looking to the passing cars like a school bus with rockets. A roar emanated from the engine, drowning out the Red Hot Chili Peppers on the stereo. With hands gripped white knuckled on the steering wheel, he sped on to Amber.
      Jackson was not particularly handsome, though there was a strange pretty-boy quality in his emerald eyes. Raven-black hair fell about his face, looking purposely astray. Jackson's lips were tight and pursed together in a stone scowl, and his eyes glared at the road ahead without truly seeing it.
      I can't believe she called that half-breed, he thought. She goes off to a party with him, and then gets surprised when I act 'jealous'?
      He chuckled.
      So we had a small tiff a couple days ago. That doesn't give her the right to go and sleep with him; and it sure as hell doesn't give him the right to try and snag her away from me. That black and white oreo has no business tryin to screw up my life. I've never done anything to him.
      Jackson's rage intensified. Without even realizing it, he had nearly floored his car. Grinding his teeth to the point of cracking, his mind flew on faster than the camaro.
      Images of Kalib leaning over Amber's naked body danced before his eyes, the passing street lights causing a strobe effect. Jackson could just see them kissing each other like he and Amber had done, Kalib's light colored hands all over her body. His skin caressing hers, the colors contrasting just enough to be obvious. Smiles and laughs flashed all around, making Jackson nauseous.
      Oh, he is going to pay, Jackson shook his head slowly as he thought. I am sick and tired of him sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. This is the last time.
      Jackson was so preoccupied that he nearly had to slam on the brakes before he slingshot himself past Amber's driveway. The tires squealed and cried out as he turned the wheel hard and slammed on the brakes. He pulled out his keys and stomped out of the camaro towards Amber's front door. Stopping for a second, he saw a crystal blue mazda parked along the side of the house. Kalib was already here.
      An animalistic grunt rumbled out of Jackson as he rushed to the door and rang the bell. Then, he just stood silently and waited for it to open.


      Kalib paused with his hand on the oaken door's inside handle. He turned and looked at Amber sitting on the pastel pink couch in her living room a few feet away. Light auburn hair draped down, covering most of her face. What could be seen was a look of sadness, an expression almost apologetic. Kalib's heart melted and he once again felt an urge to grab her, hold her close and never, ever let go. It was almost amusing; here she sat as she had several times before, and yet she still looked a bit surprised to hear the doorbell.
      Jackson rang the bell again, and Kalib turned his gaze back to the door. He paused for a moment to compose himself; changing his look from one of worry and concern to a stern grimace. Satisfied that he was now ready, Kalib pulled the door wide.
      Jackson stood there in front of him, his eyes locked on Kalib. An eerie light behind him from the street outside made him glow in an orange haze. When he finally spoke, Jackson held back absolutely none of his anger.
      "Out of the way, Kalib," he said, glancing over Kalib's shoulder to see where Amber was. Immediately noticing this, Kalib closed the door part way.
      "Sorry, Jackson," Kalib answered, his voice cold, "She doesn't want to talk to you. Why don't you go on home."
      Both men's breath poured out of their lips in a fog, the chill air outside meeting the warmth of their mouths. Neither noticed. Their minds were occupied at the moment. Jackson only shot Kalib a look that could melt stone.
      "I said out of my way, Kalib," Jackson's tone was more forceful now, but Kalib did not back down.
      "Go on home. She doesn't want to see you."
      "It's your fault!" Jackson suddenly erupted. He was yelling loudly now. "You're always interfering, always butting in! Why don't you go home for a change?!" Finishing this last statement, he pushed Kalib causing him to stumble backwards.
      Kalib caught himself just in time to steady his body, but a second too late to save his shirt. Part of the front now hung down in a long strip, torn when it caught on the rough edges of the door. His muscles tightened and tensed into knots. Once more, his face flushed and a fire overtook him. The two matched glares briefly, Kalib's sight pinned directly to Jackson's eyes.
      A noise popped out from behind Kalib and he whirled to look at Amber standing nearby. She had left her seat on the couch, and was behind Kalib wavering a little. A plastic look of fierce concern adorned her pale face, streamed with tears. In her hand by her side, she clutched a tissue. She looked an innocent child who stumbled in to find her parents fighting.
      For a moment, Kalib looked at her. He felt sorry for her having to deal with all of this. Things were never easy or simple. He wished that he could just take her away.
      All of a sudden, there was a loud crashing sound, snapping Kalib back from his wondering thoughts. A flash of light slapped him in the eyes followed by a wave of darkness that pitched and yawed. Kalib felt himself fall backwards and flailed his arms to try and catch himself. With a thud, he struck the ground hard. Everything became distorted. In the background of this there were few sounds. The only thing he could discern from the ring in his head was a muffled sobbing.
      Trying to regain his senses, Kalib looked up from his spot on the floor and did his best to focus on the two figures close by. A couple blurred shadows stood there. One was hunched over and shaking while the other reached out to the first. The hunched person (which was Amber from what Kalib could tell) turned its head and looked towards him. A drowsiness washed over him and it was all that he could do to stay awake. Then, slowly at first, the visage of the two faded and dissipated as Kalib drifted off.


      Bright, white light filtered through the blinds and into Kalib's eyes. Now, more than before, his head thumped and throbbed. Kalib reached up and gingerly rubbed at the back of his skull. A lump the size of a golf-ball protruded from the scalp, tender and sore. Oddly though, it was cold and damp. It was then that he realized an ice pack had been on his head.
      Kalib sprung up and looked about wildly. His chest was bare again, and he sat in a bed - his bed. Somehow, he managed to get back home, though how he couldn't imagine. It was morning now, and the sun's rays stung with their intensity. It was hard to see, but to Kalib everything was floating. His head pained him but he tried not to notice.
      Slowly, he began to recall the night before; the party, Amber, a phone call, . . . Jackson.
      "Damn!" Kalib cursed out loud, forgetting all about the ache in his head for the time being. The very last thing he remembered was being hit hard, and Amber and Jackson standing near him.
      My God, I have to get over there and see if she's O.K. Kalib could feel panic coming on. If he's hurt her, I'll never forgive myself.
      Kalib then decided it best to just call first and see if she even answered. That was the most logical thing to do. After all, she could be fine. He leaned over and reached out to grab his phone when he noticed a sheet of paper taped to it. Pulling it free, he held it up and read the note. 

  Kalib, 
       I'm so very sorry for what happened to you last night, and 
  Jackson apologizes for hitting you. he and I talked for a long
  time while you were resting. Things are better now. Your car is
  there at your place; I drove you home in it and Jackson's going
  to take me back. Thank you for always being such a friend.
  Love Always,
  Amber


      Kalib just stared blankly at the paper. The phone was up to Kalib's ear quickly as he punched out Amber's number. He had to talk to her about this. This was just plain wrong.
      After several rings, someone picked up. It took them a minute to get the phone righted, and when they did Kalib could hear their breathing.
      "Hello?" Jackson's irritated voice answered.
      Without saying a single word, Kalib hung up the phone; his hands shaking. There was a horrible sickness in his stomach, and it hurt to breathe.
      Kalib half-fell against the wall, his head pounding onto the drywall there. Images, emotions, things totally indescribable flooded his mind. All he could do was shake his head in disbelief.
      In frustration, Kalib kicked his foot forcefully at the wall. There was a loud ripping noise as his bare foot passed through something soft. Surprised by this, Kalib glanced down at the floor and saw what was left of his unfinished painting there.
      Kneeling down on the floor, he picked up the small canvas and examined it. A large hole now gaped in the center of the piece. Streams and spots of red jutted away from the tear, looking like residue from an explosion. A few drops of paint remained wet and clung to Kalib's foot while others were smeared across the canvas. It was ruined. In that one quick second, all of his work had just vanished. Now, he would have to begin from scratch.
      Might as well do it now, he thought as he wiped a few tears away with the back of his hand.
      With a sigh, Kalib tossed the broken canvas to the side and rose to go find another, blank one.