Blair watched as the assortment of loafers, sneakers, and boots passed her by. She seemed to be invisible lying on the cold pavement. No one spared a glance in her direction. She had fire in her veins, a soothing warmth she could only get from sniffing glue. That euphoria never lasted long. The hollowness would creep its way back down to her heart. The comedown always made Blair feel like God. She could go from the high of living, crash back down to death in minutes, and get resurrected from another huff.
      Blair reached for the lighter and singular Newport cigarette in her coat pocket. Looking at the cigarette nauseated her. The tobacco was tightly packed into a home of its own. Blair rolled the cigarette between her calloused thumb and index finger. She couldn’t bring herself to light it. She stayed still watching everything pass her by — cars, people, and leaves all moving towards a greater destination. She thought that she could disappear right there on the concrete.
      A pair of clacking heels walk past street litter and stop right where Blair rests her head. A voice calls out.
      “Dear, are you out here all alone?” That woman bent down like she was talking to a small child. 
      Blair didn’t answer, she didn’t know if the woman was real or not. 
      “My dear, are you alright?” the voice called out again. 
      With the cigarette still in Blair’s hand, she shoos the woman away. 
      “Don’t be afraid, it’s okay. My name is Gabrielle.”
      Blair sat up to face Gabrielle, but she couldn't see the woman’s totality, only the separate parts that made her up. Gabrielle’s voice was like a siren’s, alluring and deep. 
      “Let me take you somewhere safe, you really shouldn’t be out here like this.” 
      Before Blair could get a word out, Gabrielle was already helping her up to her feet and brushing off the dirt that had collected on Blair’s pleather coat. 
      “I couldn’t forgive myself if I just left you here. I live with a bunch of women. We’ve all been in your position before. You don’t have to be alone; we all take care of each other.” 
      Blair silently followed Gabrielle, and she could tell that the woman was uncomfortable with silence. 
      “They wouldn’t mind if you joined us. Actually, they would love if you stayed with us.”

* * * * *

      Gabrielle offered Blair a cotton nightgown to sleep in and showed her which futon among the many was hers. 
      Blair had heard of communes before, but she didn’t expect one to be so close to the city. Upon arriving, Gabrielle explained to Blair that there were four buildings that made up the commune: a house for sleeping, a house for bathing, a house for eating, and a house for recreation. All the women were at the recreational house, but Blair would get to meet them when they were finished.
      Blair sat stiffly on the edge of her futon and, for the first time, took in Gabrielle’s image. Gabrielle wasn’t old, but the way she held herself showed the precision and patience you only gain with experience. 
      Blair was staring and she got caught. Out of embarrassment, she quickly retreated behind her hair and at the same time Gabrielle sat next to her. 
      “You don't have to tell me or anyone else about how you got there,” Gabrielle said, tucking Blair’s greasy black hair behind her ears. “You don’t owe me anything — y’know? You just remind me so much of myself. I know how badly I needed a home too. You can stay here for a while and rest.” 
      Gabrielle’s words seemed to heal Blair’s heart; before long, Blair found herself in the woman’s embrace. Gabrielle’s arms were warm, and filling; her deep voice lulling Blair’s brain. Blair could lay there forever.
      What must have been around 12 women walked in, all wearing the same nightgown that Blair had on. The women crowded around Blair the moment they noticed her. One by one, they introduced themselves to Blair. All the fuss made Blair retreat into disassociation. She didn’t pick up any names or distinguishing features from most of the women, she only noted the unique- looking ones.
      A mousey woman said, “Blair, right? You have really pretty dark hair Blair. I’m Seraphina. Sera. Let’s be friends, okay?” 
      Blair nodded her head.

* * * * *
 

      The adjustment period was ugly. For a few weeks now, the withdrawals had Blair bedridden. Gabrielle told her that she shouldn't go to the other houses until all her symptoms slowed down. Blair had never looked worse than she does now. The headaches and insomnia left her weak; her skin was grey, and she reeked like vomit. But none of the women treated her like the atrocity she was. 
      They hardly ever stayed in the sleeping house throughout the day, but they would periodically come in to brush her hair, wipe her face down with a cool cloth, or praise all her efforts for being clean. Their nightgowns made them look like angels tending to her. It was so foreign to Blair. As Blair lay underneath a thin white sheet, she heard the door rustle open.
      “Blair, my dear. I brought you your lunch,” said Gabrielle, effortlessly balancing the tray of porridge to Blair. “Goodness Blair. You’re looking so much better today. I can finally see some life in your eyes.”
      Gabrielle helped Blair upright and set the tray on her lap. “Thank you.”
      “I’ve been thinking it’s about time you finally get out of bed. What do you think?”
      Blair sighed, “Yeah that sounds good.”
      “It does, doesn’t it? But before you can get up, I’m going to need a little favor from you. Is that alright dear?”
      “Favor? What do you want?”
      “You see...” Gabrielle paused and took Blair’s hand into her own. “We need a piece of your hair. We have a bit of a superstition here. We gather up a piece of everyone’s hair to protect our houses. It’s an old wives’ tale.”
      Blair must’ve made a face because Gabrielle lightly squeezed her hand. 
      “I’ve never heard of anything like that before.”
      “I know it sounds a bit crazy, but you understand, right? If you want to stay here, you’ll have to play by our rules, and there aren’t many. You won’t even notice what piece we took.”
      Gabrielle was right. Out of kindness, the women had nursed Blair back to health without asking for money or labor. A piece of hair seemed completely insignificant regarding the circumstances. Blair agreed to give up a piece of her hair. She wanted to stay living in the commune and she wanted to please Gabrielle.

* * * * *

 

      Before long, Blair was allowed to go to the bathhouse. Inside, there was a huge pool to fit all the women along with a basket for their dirty nightgowns. Lilith, the woman who slept next to Blair, explained that all the dirty clothing would get washed during the day, and at night the women would bathe. The women paid no mind to Blair’s wilting body; they were all too busy socializing after a day of chores. Blair splashed past the crowd and saw Sera by herself in the corner. 
      Blair noticed something. Sera’s back was raw and beet red, almost like it was missing all skin completely. Blair could imagine how badly the wound stung in hot water and that made her wince. Surely the other women noticed it, but they didn’t say a thing, so Blair didn’t say anything either. She just watched as Sera stood completely still in the water until they were all ordered to get out and clothe themselves. A few women crowded around Sera. They were helping her put on a dark, stiff shirt made of wool or animal hair of some sorts. Blair looked away and pretended not to hear Sera’s whimpering. She knew it was probably better to ignore that it was happening.

* * * * *

 

      Blair was in the bathhouse cleaning some of the nightgowns. They had expected her to take on some of the chores, which she didn't mind. It made her feel less guilty about her living situation.
      “My dear, are you almost finished?” Gabrielle’s hands found their way on top of Blair’s head, gently stroking the hair underneath.
      “Yeah. Just this last one.”
      “That’s great, dear. We’re all so proud of how far you’ve come. We wanted you to join us tonight in the recreation house. We wanted to do something special to celebrate your progress.”
      “You really don't have-”
      “It’s alright dear, we all wanted to.”
      Gabrielle led Blair outside towards the recreational house. It was the biggest building out of the four, and the only one Blair has yet to be inside. All the women were sitting on the floor in a circle, staring at Blair as she walks through the door. Gabrielle leads her to the middle and leaves her there.
      “Sit, dear”
      Blair obeys.
      Lilith spoke, “We want you to finally become one of us.”
      A chant. “One of us.”
      “That’s right Blair, dear. But to do that, we need your full participation tonight. You’re going to cleanse yourself from the grime of your past.” 
      Gabrielle joined the circle of women leaving Blair alone in the center. Two women brought in a metal tub and placed it behind Blair. 
      “Get in.”
      Blair hesitated, staring into that abyss of steaming water.
      A woman’s voice Blair didn’t recognize spoke, “You want this don't you? Don't you want to stay with us?”
      “You’ve come so far Blair. This is the last thing you need to do. After this, you can stay with us,” cooed Gabrielle.
      All the women chant in unison, “Cleanse yourself.”
      Even if Blair wanted to leave, she knew she couldn’t. She was surrounded by the women who had cared for her when no one else did, women who had seen something worthy out of a pile of withered bones. There was no other place for Blair to run to.
      As Blair steps into the tub, the smell of salt stings her nostrils. Scalding saltwater. Blair’s skin tightens quickly. It burns. It burns so badly that Blair’s eyes quickly fill with tears. All the women move closer to the tub, closer to Blair as she cries in pain.
      “Hush. It’s alright, we’re going get you a new skin,” Gabrielle whispers. The women all pick up a coarse brush. In circular motions, they began to scrub off Blair’s dry, tightening skin, piece by piece. Underneath all that dead skin was something new.
      Blair was clean. Pure. Exactly where she was meant to be. This is salvation.