Chapter 7
1047 Words
After school, the hall is full of people trying to go to hell. I was on my way to a music rehearsal and luna walked next to me and told us both enough stories - she filled in the blanks for her. I feel like I've been lost in another dimension, like I've gone somewhere else. It's very similar to the real world, just a little bit slower. In this alternate reality, my body and mind are completely separate, a place where I can only think of one thing. Only one.
"Black," luna explained resolutely.
"No, Red. I don't know. What do you think?" she asked with brown hair in front of her face.
"Black to me, of course," she replies. "I know my mother will come out," she said as if I had taken it back. "Well, I don't mind. I just need a change.”
"Is there anything else that's changed?" I ask, but she can't hear me because of the noise in the closet and the screaming, perhaps because of my lack of voice.
"Oh, did I tell you that my dad wanted me to meet his new girlfriend this weekend?" to say it.
"Can you believe it?" she says as if "girlfriend" is impossible, like a unicorn or a dragon or something. I know she struggles with everything. Her parents divorced, her father left home, her mother went crazy, and now she has a supposed girlfriend. I know she should at least try to be best friends.
Only a month has passed. I shook my head in anticipation and disbelief. "Mia," she says.
"If you don't mind, you can come after school today." I can smile But I can control it
"Help me pick a color. Let us do your hair too!" she shouted. I shrug my shoulders. I try to get closer to the wall when I walk. Recently, I feel like my skin and my heart have been turned upside down. It was as if it was sore and exposed that it would hurt if you pulled on it. I hold the clarinet case close to my chest and shrink the Armor.
Then I saw him, this man, walking down the corridor toward us. His ridiculous, nondescript college jacket has the number 12 on it. As you watch him speed up and back and forth between his bodies, you feel a distinct sinking sensation in his stomach. It's like he's on the basketball court instead of in the hallway. I hear someone call his name and say something about being late and the coach making him do laps. He turned his face, looked behind him, and laughed as he began to answer.
When i opens my mouth nothing comes out. I saw it before it happened. And it happens.
Classy: He's in me, his shoulders on the wall, the clarinet case is too heavy in his stomach to make him crumble.
I am suddenly pulled back into reality. Time flies and my brain and body are instantly overloaded. I lean forward, my stomach hurts like it was stabbed, and I look down at my dirty, nameless K-Mart sneakers. Number 12 grabs my forearm. I think his finger poked a hole in my shirt. In the corner of my mind, I hear his muffled voice say,
"Oh s**t, I'm sorry, are you okay?"
But I can't listen to the end because it seems like I only have one thought. that's it: Die, motherfucker, kill, die, die, die.
I really don't know what to think about this idea. Certainly, it's not mine. But how do we explain these words? They're on my tongue and they're overflowing. And although I have never uttered such words to others, or to others, they do. I can't really think of any words throughout the English language. My entire vocabulary suddenly consists of an endless string of obscenities punctuated by swear words. When he stands in front of me and I hold my stomach in front of him, he sees my clothes, my glasses, my ahoge, but not me.
"I'm sorry," he repeated, and when I still didn't answer, added, "I didn't see." pronounced. He repeats these four words of his.
I. No. Look. Each word hits like a match on the thin sand behind the match and misses once, twice, three times, four times. Let me say one more thing to him.
"“Ohh-kaay?” "
he said slowly. The lights are on He's like, I'm smoking. This feeling that there is something new. No anger, no sadness, no shame. It burns everything in me, every thought, everything, Memories, every emotion you've ever felt fill the empty space. Anger All I have now is pure anger. I watched him pick up my clarinet case from the floor. He gives it to me My hands are shaking when I take it from him. This time, for a different reason, gently press it against your body. Hit him repeatedly with a hard black plastic container because my whole brain and body is telling me to hit him. Luna said,
"I think you're injured. You better watch where you're going!"
I can't answer her because I'm really scared. Because I can't think like that, I wasn't born that way. But I feel it burning in my bones, my skin, my blood. Something savage and animal. I force my leg to move. If I don't move, I'm afraid I'm going to do something weird, really weird, and if I open my mouth, I'm going to say these awful words. After a while, I heard his feet moving away from me again. let him go; i am dangerous
The criminally dangerous luna came up to me and said the one word that says it all.
"Assholes." Then she looked over his shoulder and added,
"although, I don't mind if you bump into me a little. I told you earlier."
When I look at her, the corners of my mouth curl and I almost feel pain, but I feel pain in a different way than my stomach. It hurts like I laughed for the first time in my life. she smiled and gently touched my shoulder.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I nodded, not sure if I would, but if I would.
- Writer
