There was a time I can think back to…possibly my earliest memory but who knows when an earlier one will pop into my head. My mother was watching ‘Singin’ in the Rain’ on TV, prompting her to waltz around the kitchen to ‘Lucky Star’. Her eyes never left the screen. She was in her own world of beautiful dresses and luscious settings, of gentlemen and actual ladies and was delirious with the idea. Being a slightly larger woman, I am able to say that she looked jolly. Not Santa Claus-big-red-suit-and-big-red-face jolly, but excited nevertheless. She dragged me into a hug and I complained that my toy train had a deadline otherwise Ava would discover that I swiped her Ken doll and tied him to the tracks with the string Mum was using for the roast. Ignoring me, she propped me up on her right hip and I became her waltzing partner. We flew around the kitchen, my feet never touching the ground.

I was superman.

I was an eagle.

I was an angel.

I was an existence not of this earth.

In the blackness, the only thing that could be heard was my amplified breathing. Good, at least I was still doing that. I wanted to open my eyes but they refused.

‘Ok. One…two…three…nope.’

Take two.

‘One. Two. Three. Ta-da!’

A tiny room with a locked door, a matchbox, a cell. Two toilet cubicles worth, I thought.

Peter Coletti wears a dress on the weekends. Toilet door. Age 7. A damnable lie.

I pounded on the door noticing that my fist couldn’t feel the rigid wood and my bare feet couldn’t feel the concrete-like floor. Alarmed by this I whacked my palm against the door in a rapid desperation. Not even a noise. I pinched my bottom lip between my thumb and forefinger. Something I did as a child to avoid biting.

“Pretty cool, isn’t it?”

The unidentifiable male voice echoed and I backed into the wall. I didn’t even receive the sensation of solidity against my back. I stopped abruptly, unable to go further. Dizziness possessed my body, beginning from the head.

“What is this?”

He leaned casually against the opposite wall with his legs crossed. He pulled his lips into a degrading smirk. His rain-cloud eyes brightened underneath his raised eyebrows with an expression that clearly stated: I have no time for you.

I had that much amount of time to study the stranger before he finally graced me with a reply.

“Congratulations on finally waking up. You sleep like a one-sided kama-sutra position. The girl half. Legs everywhere.”

“You watched me sleep?” I inquired with a side-glare. My toughest to date, I’d say.

“Don’t get too excited Miss Conceited Australia, you didn’t win the pageant. There’s not much else to look at in a room this huge.”

“Well you know what?” I asked, rasping my voice to sound a little more threatening. He grinned at me, unfazed and patiently waiting for the rest of my announcement. I had to think of something intelligent, fast. The time for a witty comeback had long drawn out, and all I needed to do was say something….

…anything.

“It’s creepy.”

He breathed out as heavily as if he had been holding his breath since I woke up.

“I don’t have any tissues for you to cry into. Use this once you’ve read it.”

He crumpled up a creamy piece of paper and threw it at me.

To the two of you,

We hope you are not startled by your foreign environment. We genuinely apologise for the discomfort of the situation. Your families and friends are waiting for you but you will both be here for an unpredictable amount of time. You are from now on considered partners until check out time. You need to make peace to begin a second chance.

Once you have both read this, slide the note under the door and it will unlock.

We wish the best for you two.

What?

If my body didn’t feel so unusually light, I swear that vomit would have surged up into my throat like it usually did when my head couldn’t grasp a concept.

He extended a hand to me. “Victor.”

Palm to palm. His hand was soft. Soft?

“Pete.”

“So…partner, are you ready to ‘check out’ of this bullshit?”