(no subject)
I finished what I was writing earlier. I'm not sure if I like it, but it's definitely different.
Dichotomy
“Since each person, as an individual, is the not-being of the other, it is never possible to eliminate non-understanding completely.” - Friedrich Schleiermacher
It’s Wednesday, and I am happy, because on Wednesday, they both sit with me.
On Mondays, Ellie meets with the other Jesus freaks. They talk about God, I guess, or maybe the Bible. On Fridays, she sits with the honors students, and they talk about whatever smart people talk about. Sometimes, they tutor freshmen together. Ellie likes to help people. She is very nice, which annoys me sometimes.
On Tuesdays, Kira smokes cigarettes in the bathroom with the other girls who like to think of themselves as rebels, and they talk about how rebellious they are. On Thursdays, our trig teacher, Mr. Crozier, is supposed to tutor her, but really, they just fuck in his office. I think it’s disgusting. Kira thinks it’s rebellious.
But on Wednesdays, they sit with me at lunch. I do not know why they do, but I like it. I like them, and they like me, I think. Kira likes me because I will smoke cigarettes with her, but she doesn’t have to talk about how rebellious she is. She can talk about TV shows or politics or the zoo. Ellie likes me because I went to church with her once so she wouldn’t have to go by herself. Ellie says she wants me to know God. I tell her that I do not even know myself yet. She just laughs. I do not understand Ellie sometimes. I don’t understand Kira, either.
That is why we are not friends. I like them, but we are not friends.
“It’s official. I’m failing everything,” Kira says as she slides into her seat at my table. Her hair is purple this week. The teachers glare at her, but she does not notice.
Ellie looks up from her peanut butter sandwich long enough to look concerned. Her hair is red, like it always is. “You know I’d help you if you-”
“It’s fine. Besides, I’m not failing trig.” She smiles. It is a mean smile. “Surprise, surprise, right?”
Ellie opens her mouth, like she wants to say something, like she’s going to say something. But I know she won’t. She never does. I am not surprised when Ellie closes her mouth, shakes her head, and looks back down at her sandwich.
I am not interested in Ellie’s sandwich. I am interested in the boy that is sitting across the cafeteria and looking at me. He is leaning back in his chair, and he has a spoon in his mouth.
Kira has noticed this as well. She wiggles her eyebrows at me in a way that is probably supposed to mean something, but I don’t get it.
“Who’s the cutie with the spoon?”
“Trent Morganstern,” I answer. “He plays soccer.”
The both stare at me. I am used to it.
“Kat, how the hell do you know that? You hate sports,” Kira says.
“I like soccer and volleyball.”
Ellie is correcting someone’s English paper. She does homework when she has nothing to add to the conversation.
“He’s looking at me,” Kira boasts.
I know that he isn’t. I tell her so.
“Yeah, how do you know?”
“Because you’re a whore. He doesn’t think whores are pretty.”
Kira gapes at me. Then, she glares and stabs her apple with a plastic knife. “You’re a fucking bitch, Katherine.”
I know that I am not a bitch. I just tell the truth.
I look across the cafeteria again. Trent’s friends are smiling, throwing balls of paper at him, slapping him on the back. Trent is shaking his head, but he’s smiling. Finally, he stands up. The friends cheer. I decide I probably wouldn’t like his friends.
Suddenly, Trent is standing right behind me. I stare at him. He stares at me.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hi.”
He wears Swiss cheese jeans and a trenchcoat, and he has black hair that’s too long and always messy and falls in his face. He doesn’t look like an athlete. That’s why I like him. He isn’t what he seems to be.
That’s why I like Kira and Ellie, too. Kira looks like a rebel, but really, she wants everyone to like her. Ellie looks like a Jesus freak, but I think she’s going to go crazy and kill everyone. I really do.
Trent is still looking at me, and he’s spinning his spoon between his fingers.
“You’re Katherine McMazerith.”
I already know who I am.
“And you’re Trent Morganstern.”
He seems pleased. “Yeah. You do editorials in the newspaper, right?”
I nod and tie a Twizzler into a knot. “You play soccer.”
“You know a lot about me.”
“Everyone knows a lot about you. What’s surprising is that you know a lot about me.”
He shrugs and smiles. It is not a mean smile. It is an embarrassed one. “I’ve kind of been asking around about you.”
Kira and Ellie look at each other. Then, they get up and walk away. I don’t really mind. Trent watches them go, then sits down next to me.
“Why do you want to know anything about me?”
He sighs. It does not seem like he knows how to answer that question. He looks uncomfortable, so I stare at him more and try not to blink. I like to make people uncomfortable.
“I guess... well, I’ve seen you around, and you seem like a really interesting person.”
“Interesting” is a word that people use when they’re confused by something, and they like it that way.
“I’m not interesting. I’m just weird.”
Trent laughs. He has a deep laugh, and it sounds like he smokes. I like his laugh.
“That you are. But I like that. I was wondering if… I don’t know, maybe you’d like to get dinner with me sometime or go see a movie or whatever.”
I have never been asked out before.
“Sure.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
I give him my cell phone number. It feels strange.
He says he will call. I would not mind if he did.
I do not try to find Ellie and Kira. I just start walking home. Class seems pointless. It always has.
I unlock the door to my house and walk in. Diana is passed out on the sofa. She is an alcoholic and a drug addict. Our parents pretend she doesn’t exist. Most of the time, she really doesn’t.
I am a good sister, so I hide her needles. Then I walk upstairs.
Sam is lying on my bed, watching Comedy Central. I had left the TV on for him that morning. Sam is not a Jesus freak. He is not a rebel. He is not a drug addict. He is just dead. He came with the room.
“You’re home early.”
“I met a boy today.”
He laughs. “Do you really need to add another faggot to your collection?”
“He isn’t gay. He asked me out on a date.”
Sam stares at me, I think, but I can’t really see his eyes. They are mostly transparent now, but I think they were blue when he was alive. He shrugs and looks back at the television.
“Have fun.”
He is angry. He is also in love with me.
I sit at my computer and begin to write my history paper. “His name is Trent.”
“Good for him. Would he like a cookie?”
“He plays soccer.”
“Fantastic. When are you two going out?”
“He said he would call.”
“Lovely.”
I laugh. I am fairly certain that he is glaring at me.
“You’re angry today.”
“You cut class and announce that you’re fucking a goalie-”
“He’s a halfback, and I’m not fucking him.”
“I have the right to be angry.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I’m possessive, what can I say?”
“I’m alive. You’re dead.”
“No shit,” he says under his breath. I save my paper and lay next to him on the bed.
“If I could, I would.”
“Would what?”
“Be with you.”
Sam laughs, but not happily. He sounds bitter. “Yeah, well, the life-death barrier is a fairly unbreakable one.”
“Then you need to let go.”
Sam is very, very angry. I can tell because he’s getting more and more solid.
“You think I haven’t tried?”
“Try harder.”
I can see him now. His eyes are blue, his hair is blond, his shirt is white, his pants are black, and he has just grabbed the remote control out of my hand and thrown it against the wall.
He is staring at the wall, wide-eyed. I watch him, and as I do, I find that I can’t see his eyes any more. He has faded again. I try to touch him, but my hand goes through his shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
I wrap my arms around my knees and stare at the television. It has turned itself off. “I know.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“The purpose of life is a life of purpose.” - Robert Byrne
Trent does call, and we do go out on a date. We enjoy ourselves, so we go out on another one and another one and another one. Soon enough, I can call him my boyfriend, and I do eventually fuck him. He is very good, I think, but I have nothing to compare him to.
Kira approves of him because she thinks he is “hot.” I am not sure what Ellie thinks. She has been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, and she has to spend a month in a specialized clinic.
Sam does not like him, but Sam does not like anyone. I cannot bring Trent to my room, because if I do, papers fly, pens shoot at him, and pictures soar across the room. He rarely speaks to me any more. Sam, that is. Trent speaks to me quite a bit.
I was right. I do not like Trent’s friends. They are loud and crude and don’t seem to understand much of anything. Trent does not seem to like his friends very much either. He spends most of his time with Kira and me, since the soccer season has ended.
I have already tried to tell Kira about Sam, but she does not believe me. I am considering telling Trent. I will actually care if he does not believe me, though. I do not love him, but he is my friend, because he understands.
I am living at Trent’s house now. I do not know where my parents are. They left a note on the kitchen counter saying “be back soon.” That was four months ago. I think Diana has died, but I am not certain. So, I stay with Trent. His parents do not know.
Sometimes, I wonder if life is supposed to be this way. Sometimes, I think “yes,” and sometimes, I think “no.” But most of the time, I think that it doesn’t really matter, because life is this way, so what good is it to wonder what it should or should not be like? All that matter is what is.
“We do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds; our planet is the mental institution of the universe.” - Johann von Goethe
Ellie has come back to school. She sits with me every day now, not just on Wednesdays. I think everyone else is scared of her. I am not. I have always known that she was crazy, so it does not bother me.
Her eyes always move now, and they move very fast.
“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to kill someone?”
I look at her. I am not surprised, because I have also always known that she probably kill someone someday, but I am not sure how to answer it.
“I’ve wondered what it would be like to have someone dead, but I have never thought about killing someone myself.”
She smiles into her sandwich. It is a gentle, innocent smile, which scares me a little. “I have. I think about killing people all the time. I could save them.”
I see Trent out of the corner of my eye. He looks terrified. I let him grab my hand under the table.
“Save them by killing them?”
Ellie nods. “The Last Day is coming soon. So many people aren’t ready. So many people are living in sin.”
Trent and I look at each other.
Ellie smiles. “Yes, you two. But I can save them. If I cleanse them of their sins and then kill them right afterwards, they’ll die a completely pure human being.”
Trent clears his throat. “Ellie, I don’t know much about this whole religion thing, but isn’t, you know, God the only person who can get rid of sin?”
Ellie laughs. It is a sweet, pleasant laugh, but I still feel something cold cut through me. “God and me. He told me.”
“He told you to kill people?”
“No, He told me that I could wash away sin. The killing was my idea.”
The bell rings. Ellie says goodbye and goes to class. Trent looks relieved.
“She’s absolutely nuts.”
I smile. “I know.”
“The real test of friendship is: can you literally do nothing with the other person? Can you enjoy those moments of life that are utterly simple?” - Eugene Kennedy
Sam is still angry with me, but I tell him about Ellie anyway. He doesn’t look mad when I am finished.
“She’s crazy.”
“I know.” I climb onto the bed and lay next to him. He tries to put his arms around me, but they slide right through me, and I am suddenly cold. He sighs and pulls back.
“Maybe she’ll really kill someone.“
“She will.“
“Maybe she’ll kill you.”
I nod. “Maybe. Probably.”
“Does dying scare you?”
“Should it?”
He shakes his head. “No, not really. One second, you’re alive. The next second, everything seems to explode around you, and you’re either shooting up or down. Except with me. I got stuck.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I had to wait around for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah. You never would have made it as far as you did without some help. Some people... they just need more help than other people do.”
“What about people who need help and don’t get it?”
Sam raises an eyebrow. “You mean people like Ellie?”
I feel sick. “Yeah. People like Ellie.”
He smiled. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“There was that law of life, so cruel and so just, that one must grow or else pay more for remaining the same.” - Norman Mailer
Kira and Mr. Crozier eloped. I knew it would happen. Ellie is furious Trent is disgusted. I don’t care any more.
I moved out of Trent’s house. We did not break up, but Sam is no longer angry with me. I now have the house to myself. I am ninety-nine percent sure that Diana has died. I am ninety-nine percent sure that my parents are never coming back.
Ellie refuses to take her medicine. She says it interferes with the messages that God sends her. She buys Christian magazines by the bucket load and spends all day cutting out letters to make sentences. She says that Jesus is giving her the messages, but I think she’s just getting crazier.
I am as comfortable with Trent now as I am with Sam, which makes Sam hate him even more.
I have a job now. I write for an actual newspaper, not just the school one. They say I have a “fantastic journalistic style.” I think they’re just happy that they found someone who tells the truth for once.
“The past is the only dead thing that smells sweet.” - Cyril Connolly
I hear an explosion in the middle of the night, and I wake up. I see Sam. He is floating near the ceiling, and he looks shocked.
I turn to the right. Ellie has somehow gotten into my house. She is shaking and sweating and praying frantically in a high-pitched voice. She is holding a smoking gun. Trent is still lying beside me, only now his eyes are wide open, and his blood is slowly soaking the bed.
I am not surprised. I am a little sad, though.
I climb out of the bed and look at Ellie. Ellie gasps for breath and points the gun at me. It is not steady.
For the first time, I realize that I do not want to die.
I try to kick the gun out of her hand, but I miss. She is screaming at me to get on my knees and accept her blessing.
She moves faster than I am used to. Ellie kicks my feet out from under me, and I fall to the floor. She holds me down with her hand on my forehead.
“Dear Lord, Jesus Christ, I call upon the power that You have given to me, and I chase the demons from this girl’s body, I wash her clean of all of her sins in Your name...”
I look up at Sam. He is completely solid. He could help me, but I know he will not.
“You’re not going to help, are you?”
I think I can see tears in his eyes. I feel like crying myself when he shakes his head. “I’m a selfish, atrocious prick, but I love you. You said you’d be with me if you could, and now you can.”
I stare at him. “No, I can’t.”
“Because I’m letting you die?”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
Ellie is still praying. She has not noticed that I am talking to myself.
“Thank You, Lord. Amen.”
The gun barrel is not cold. It is warm, probably because she had just used it to shoot Trent. It does not hurt when she pulls the trigger.
Sam’s description was very accurate.
Everything explodes around me, blossoms of white and pink and red. Then, all at once, I am flying up, up, up.
And then I stop. Sam has grabbed my wrist, and he now keeps me from flying through the ceiling. Something is still pulling me, but Sam is stronger right now.
He kisses me, and I can tell that it’s something he’s wanted to do for longer than I could even pretend to imagine. I let him.
“So, I’ve got no chance?”
I almost want to say that yes, he had a chance, there was always a chance. But he sold me out. He paid for a kiss with my life. So, I shake my head.
Then, because I can, I slap him hard across the face.
He tells me he loves me. I tell him that I know.
I look down in time to see Ellie put the gun in her own mouth.
Then, I am up. Then, I am gone.
Comments? Love? Hate? Confusion? Anything?
I'm on the verge, I'm on the verge
Unraveling with every word
With every word you say, make me believe
That I won't feel your tires on the street
As I'm finding the words
You're getting away
Dichotomy
“Since each person, as an individual, is the not-being of the other, it is never possible to eliminate non-understanding completely.” - Friedrich Schleiermacher
It’s Wednesday, and I am happy, because on Wednesday, they both sit with me.
On Mondays, Ellie meets with the other Jesus freaks. They talk about God, I guess, or maybe the Bible. On Fridays, she sits with the honors students, and they talk about whatever smart people talk about. Sometimes, they tutor freshmen together. Ellie likes to help people. She is very nice, which annoys me sometimes.
On Tuesdays, Kira smokes cigarettes in the bathroom with the other girls who like to think of themselves as rebels, and they talk about how rebellious they are. On Thursdays, our trig teacher, Mr. Crozier, is supposed to tutor her, but really, they just fuck in his office. I think it’s disgusting. Kira thinks it’s rebellious.
But on Wednesdays, they sit with me at lunch. I do not know why they do, but I like it. I like them, and they like me, I think. Kira likes me because I will smoke cigarettes with her, but she doesn’t have to talk about how rebellious she is. She can talk about TV shows or politics or the zoo. Ellie likes me because I went to church with her once so she wouldn’t have to go by herself. Ellie says she wants me to know God. I tell her that I do not even know myself yet. She just laughs. I do not understand Ellie sometimes. I don’t understand Kira, either.
That is why we are not friends. I like them, but we are not friends.
“It’s official. I’m failing everything,” Kira says as she slides into her seat at my table. Her hair is purple this week. The teachers glare at her, but she does not notice.
Ellie looks up from her peanut butter sandwich long enough to look concerned. Her hair is red, like it always is. “You know I’d help you if you-”
“It’s fine. Besides, I’m not failing trig.” She smiles. It is a mean smile. “Surprise, surprise, right?”
Ellie opens her mouth, like she wants to say something, like she’s going to say something. But I know she won’t. She never does. I am not surprised when Ellie closes her mouth, shakes her head, and looks back down at her sandwich.
I am not interested in Ellie’s sandwich. I am interested in the boy that is sitting across the cafeteria and looking at me. He is leaning back in his chair, and he has a spoon in his mouth.
Kira has noticed this as well. She wiggles her eyebrows at me in a way that is probably supposed to mean something, but I don’t get it.
“Who’s the cutie with the spoon?”
“Trent Morganstern,” I answer. “He plays soccer.”
The both stare at me. I am used to it.
“Kat, how the hell do you know that? You hate sports,” Kira says.
“I like soccer and volleyball.”
Ellie is correcting someone’s English paper. She does homework when she has nothing to add to the conversation.
“He’s looking at me,” Kira boasts.
I know that he isn’t. I tell her so.
“Yeah, how do you know?”
“Because you’re a whore. He doesn’t think whores are pretty.”
Kira gapes at me. Then, she glares and stabs her apple with a plastic knife. “You’re a fucking bitch, Katherine.”
I know that I am not a bitch. I just tell the truth.
I look across the cafeteria again. Trent’s friends are smiling, throwing balls of paper at him, slapping him on the back. Trent is shaking his head, but he’s smiling. Finally, he stands up. The friends cheer. I decide I probably wouldn’t like his friends.
Suddenly, Trent is standing right behind me. I stare at him. He stares at me.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hi.”
He wears Swiss cheese jeans and a trenchcoat, and he has black hair that’s too long and always messy and falls in his face. He doesn’t look like an athlete. That’s why I like him. He isn’t what he seems to be.
That’s why I like Kira and Ellie, too. Kira looks like a rebel, but really, she wants everyone to like her. Ellie looks like a Jesus freak, but I think she’s going to go crazy and kill everyone. I really do.
Trent is still looking at me, and he’s spinning his spoon between his fingers.
“You’re Katherine McMazerith.”
I already know who I am.
“And you’re Trent Morganstern.”
He seems pleased. “Yeah. You do editorials in the newspaper, right?”
I nod and tie a Twizzler into a knot. “You play soccer.”
“You know a lot about me.”
“Everyone knows a lot about you. What’s surprising is that you know a lot about me.”
He shrugs and smiles. It is not a mean smile. It is an embarrassed one. “I’ve kind of been asking around about you.”
Kira and Ellie look at each other. Then, they get up and walk away. I don’t really mind. Trent watches them go, then sits down next to me.
“Why do you want to know anything about me?”
He sighs. It does not seem like he knows how to answer that question. He looks uncomfortable, so I stare at him more and try not to blink. I like to make people uncomfortable.
“I guess... well, I’ve seen you around, and you seem like a really interesting person.”
“Interesting” is a word that people use when they’re confused by something, and they like it that way.
“I’m not interesting. I’m just weird.”
Trent laughs. He has a deep laugh, and it sounds like he smokes. I like his laugh.
“That you are. But I like that. I was wondering if… I don’t know, maybe you’d like to get dinner with me sometime or go see a movie or whatever.”
I have never been asked out before.
“Sure.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
I give him my cell phone number. It feels strange.
He says he will call. I would not mind if he did.
I do not try to find Ellie and Kira. I just start walking home. Class seems pointless. It always has.
I unlock the door to my house and walk in. Diana is passed out on the sofa. She is an alcoholic and a drug addict. Our parents pretend she doesn’t exist. Most of the time, she really doesn’t.
I am a good sister, so I hide her needles. Then I walk upstairs.
Sam is lying on my bed, watching Comedy Central. I had left the TV on for him that morning. Sam is not a Jesus freak. He is not a rebel. He is not a drug addict. He is just dead. He came with the room.
“You’re home early.”
“I met a boy today.”
He laughs. “Do you really need to add another faggot to your collection?”
“He isn’t gay. He asked me out on a date.”
Sam stares at me, I think, but I can’t really see his eyes. They are mostly transparent now, but I think they were blue when he was alive. He shrugs and looks back at the television.
“Have fun.”
He is angry. He is also in love with me.
I sit at my computer and begin to write my history paper. “His name is Trent.”
“Good for him. Would he like a cookie?”
“He plays soccer.”
“Fantastic. When are you two going out?”
“He said he would call.”
“Lovely.”
I laugh. I am fairly certain that he is glaring at me.
“You’re angry today.”
“You cut class and announce that you’re fucking a goalie-”
“He’s a halfback, and I’m not fucking him.”
“I have the right to be angry.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I’m possessive, what can I say?”
“I’m alive. You’re dead.”
“No shit,” he says under his breath. I save my paper and lay next to him on the bed.
“If I could, I would.”
“Would what?”
“Be with you.”
Sam laughs, but not happily. He sounds bitter. “Yeah, well, the life-death barrier is a fairly unbreakable one.”
“Then you need to let go.”
Sam is very, very angry. I can tell because he’s getting more and more solid.
“You think I haven’t tried?”
“Try harder.”
I can see him now. His eyes are blue, his hair is blond, his shirt is white, his pants are black, and he has just grabbed the remote control out of my hand and thrown it against the wall.
He is staring at the wall, wide-eyed. I watch him, and as I do, I find that I can’t see his eyes any more. He has faded again. I try to touch him, but my hand goes through his shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
I wrap my arms around my knees and stare at the television. It has turned itself off. “I know.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“The purpose of life is a life of purpose.” - Robert Byrne
Trent does call, and we do go out on a date. We enjoy ourselves, so we go out on another one and another one and another one. Soon enough, I can call him my boyfriend, and I do eventually fuck him. He is very good, I think, but I have nothing to compare him to.
Kira approves of him because she thinks he is “hot.” I am not sure what Ellie thinks. She has been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, and she has to spend a month in a specialized clinic.
Sam does not like him, but Sam does not like anyone. I cannot bring Trent to my room, because if I do, papers fly, pens shoot at him, and pictures soar across the room. He rarely speaks to me any more. Sam, that is. Trent speaks to me quite a bit.
I was right. I do not like Trent’s friends. They are loud and crude and don’t seem to understand much of anything. Trent does not seem to like his friends very much either. He spends most of his time with Kira and me, since the soccer season has ended.
I have already tried to tell Kira about Sam, but she does not believe me. I am considering telling Trent. I will actually care if he does not believe me, though. I do not love him, but he is my friend, because he understands.
I am living at Trent’s house now. I do not know where my parents are. They left a note on the kitchen counter saying “be back soon.” That was four months ago. I think Diana has died, but I am not certain. So, I stay with Trent. His parents do not know.
Sometimes, I wonder if life is supposed to be this way. Sometimes, I think “yes,” and sometimes, I think “no.” But most of the time, I think that it doesn’t really matter, because life is this way, so what good is it to wonder what it should or should not be like? All that matter is what is.
“We do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds; our planet is the mental institution of the universe.” - Johann von Goethe
Ellie has come back to school. She sits with me every day now, not just on Wednesdays. I think everyone else is scared of her. I am not. I have always known that she was crazy, so it does not bother me.
Her eyes always move now, and they move very fast.
“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to kill someone?”
I look at her. I am not surprised, because I have also always known that she probably kill someone someday, but I am not sure how to answer it.
“I’ve wondered what it would be like to have someone dead, but I have never thought about killing someone myself.”
She smiles into her sandwich. It is a gentle, innocent smile, which scares me a little. “I have. I think about killing people all the time. I could save them.”
I see Trent out of the corner of my eye. He looks terrified. I let him grab my hand under the table.
“Save them by killing them?”
Ellie nods. “The Last Day is coming soon. So many people aren’t ready. So many people are living in sin.”
Trent and I look at each other.
Ellie smiles. “Yes, you two. But I can save them. If I cleanse them of their sins and then kill them right afterwards, they’ll die a completely pure human being.”
Trent clears his throat. “Ellie, I don’t know much about this whole religion thing, but isn’t, you know, God the only person who can get rid of sin?”
Ellie laughs. It is a sweet, pleasant laugh, but I still feel something cold cut through me. “God and me. He told me.”
“He told you to kill people?”
“No, He told me that I could wash away sin. The killing was my idea.”
The bell rings. Ellie says goodbye and goes to class. Trent looks relieved.
“She’s absolutely nuts.”
I smile. “I know.”
“The real test of friendship is: can you literally do nothing with the other person? Can you enjoy those moments of life that are utterly simple?” - Eugene Kennedy
Sam is still angry with me, but I tell him about Ellie anyway. He doesn’t look mad when I am finished.
“She’s crazy.”
“I know.” I climb onto the bed and lay next to him. He tries to put his arms around me, but they slide right through me, and I am suddenly cold. He sighs and pulls back.
“Maybe she’ll really kill someone.“
“She will.“
“Maybe she’ll kill you.”
I nod. “Maybe. Probably.”
“Does dying scare you?”
“Should it?”
He shakes his head. “No, not really. One second, you’re alive. The next second, everything seems to explode around you, and you’re either shooting up or down. Except with me. I got stuck.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I had to wait around for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah. You never would have made it as far as you did without some help. Some people... they just need more help than other people do.”
“What about people who need help and don’t get it?”
Sam raises an eyebrow. “You mean people like Ellie?”
I feel sick. “Yeah. People like Ellie.”
He smiled. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“There was that law of life, so cruel and so just, that one must grow or else pay more for remaining the same.” - Norman Mailer
Kira and Mr. Crozier eloped. I knew it would happen. Ellie is furious Trent is disgusted. I don’t care any more.
I moved out of Trent’s house. We did not break up, but Sam is no longer angry with me. I now have the house to myself. I am ninety-nine percent sure that Diana has died. I am ninety-nine percent sure that my parents are never coming back.
Ellie refuses to take her medicine. She says it interferes with the messages that God sends her. She buys Christian magazines by the bucket load and spends all day cutting out letters to make sentences. She says that Jesus is giving her the messages, but I think she’s just getting crazier.
I am as comfortable with Trent now as I am with Sam, which makes Sam hate him even more.
I have a job now. I write for an actual newspaper, not just the school one. They say I have a “fantastic journalistic style.” I think they’re just happy that they found someone who tells the truth for once.
“The past is the only dead thing that smells sweet.” - Cyril Connolly
I hear an explosion in the middle of the night, and I wake up. I see Sam. He is floating near the ceiling, and he looks shocked.
I turn to the right. Ellie has somehow gotten into my house. She is shaking and sweating and praying frantically in a high-pitched voice. She is holding a smoking gun. Trent is still lying beside me, only now his eyes are wide open, and his blood is slowly soaking the bed.
I am not surprised. I am a little sad, though.
I climb out of the bed and look at Ellie. Ellie gasps for breath and points the gun at me. It is not steady.
For the first time, I realize that I do not want to die.
I try to kick the gun out of her hand, but I miss. She is screaming at me to get on my knees and accept her blessing.
She moves faster than I am used to. Ellie kicks my feet out from under me, and I fall to the floor. She holds me down with her hand on my forehead.
“Dear Lord, Jesus Christ, I call upon the power that You have given to me, and I chase the demons from this girl’s body, I wash her clean of all of her sins in Your name...”
I look up at Sam. He is completely solid. He could help me, but I know he will not.
“You’re not going to help, are you?”
I think I can see tears in his eyes. I feel like crying myself when he shakes his head. “I’m a selfish, atrocious prick, but I love you. You said you’d be with me if you could, and now you can.”
I stare at him. “No, I can’t.”
“Because I’m letting you die?”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
Ellie is still praying. She has not noticed that I am talking to myself.
“Thank You, Lord. Amen.”
The gun barrel is not cold. It is warm, probably because she had just used it to shoot Trent. It does not hurt when she pulls the trigger.
Sam’s description was very accurate.
Everything explodes around me, blossoms of white and pink and red. Then, all at once, I am flying up, up, up.
And then I stop. Sam has grabbed my wrist, and he now keeps me from flying through the ceiling. Something is still pulling me, but Sam is stronger right now.
He kisses me, and I can tell that it’s something he’s wanted to do for longer than I could even pretend to imagine. I let him.
“So, I’ve got no chance?”
I almost want to say that yes, he had a chance, there was always a chance. But he sold me out. He paid for a kiss with my life. So, I shake my head.
Then, because I can, I slap him hard across the face.
He tells me he loves me. I tell him that I know.
I look down in time to see Ellie put the gun in her own mouth.
Then, I am up. Then, I am gone.
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I'm on the verge, I'm on the verge
Unraveling with every word
With every word you say, make me believe
That I won't feel your tires on the street
As I'm finding the words
You're getting away