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Erika dies and Johnny tries to follow. He's safe now, but what about later? Road Trip. |
| [Introduction]
It was raining the night she died. I can remember how the water cascaded down from the sky in thick sheets so well because I had been staring out the window and thinking about the night we met, it had been raining then too. I could hear her breathing softly behind me, she had fallen asleep with her hand woven tightly around mine and I had stood up and slapped my face and jumped around and did anything I could to keep from falling asleep too. Her parents and sister just smiled and shook their heads in a knowing way. And so there I stood, contemplating the things we would do when I could finally get her out of that bed and back into the world. It was in that place, right there by the window, looking out at the rain, that I heard her breathing stop. It was there at that spot, my arms wrapped around my body, that I heard the long ominous "beeeeep" as her heart ceased to function and her life slipped away from her. And from me. John's girlfriend, Erika, has just died and his world has fallen apart. heartbroken and believing that he can no longer live, he turns a blade to his wrists and tries to end it all. Just in time he is discovered by his best friend, Julia, who calls for help and sees him through his recovery. Scared that he may try to take his life again, Julia takes him across the country on a journey to find himself and learn to cope with Erika's premature death. They invite three other friends to go with them who are just as willing to blow off their senior year of high school as they are. On their trip they meet an array of colorful characters that will change their lives forever. Rated 18+ but be as graphic as you please. Bio-block before your first post please. Make them look like this- Name: Age Gender: Appearance: Personality: Relation to John: (sibling, ex, friend) How you know John: (or how you met) Some of the friends can be ex-lovers or currently in a relationship with eachother, doesn't matter to me. All chars in this story will be either 18 or 19 and be seniors in high school. John will be very depressed for the first little bit of this cf, so you'll have to help with that. And remember, your chars knew Erika too, so her death had an impact on you as well. Last thing I want to say is to just have fun and be creative. Add plot twists and take us on interesting adventures. |
| Name: John Valentine Age: 18 Gender: Male Appearance: Messy black hair that falls around his face and into his green eyes. about 6 feet tall with an average build. Not really skinny but not really meaty either. Likes to wear jeans and crazy obscure t-shirts from Thrift stores and shit like that. Personality: Used to run on the track team but he gave it up when he started smoking. Usually he's pretty relaxed about everything. Has sort of a sarcastic outlook, but he means well. Got really depressed when Erika died. Relation to John: He is John. How you know John: Er... He is John. ------------------------ I couldn't believe that I had actually done it. I had thought about it for so long, but I never thought that I'd actually be able to do it. It was the craziest thing, I've been stabbed with the most minute pin and cried out in pain, but when I slid that blade across my wrists, all I felt was the cold of the metal. And then warmth. I tried blinking the tears out of my eyes but it was becoming harder and harder to open them once they were closed. I decided, instead, to just keep them open, but that was just creating more tears. My arms were sticky. I didn't like it. I think the feeling of the stickiness was worse than the cause of it. I could smell the blood too and after a while I started to breathe out of my mouth so I couldn't smell it. My room was dark even though I knew it was the middle of the day and the sun was shining through the window. I had kept the curtains shut for the past few days, but in the minutes before I had cut myself I really needed that light. And now that light was fading... and that was okay with me. I remember, before I finally let my eyes close for what I hoped would be the last time, there was suddenly someone above me, shaking me and saying something. I couldn't tell what they were saying. I could barely feel the shaking. They, like the light, were fading. |
| Name: Julia O'Connor Age: 18 Gender: Female Appearance: Slim and broad-shouldered, and standing around 5'6". Her hair is dirty blonde, and she has sloppily cropped it with some old scissors to about her shoulders and hacked away at it to give her messy bangs. Julia has large, dark-brown eyes and a usually smiling face with a small bit of freckles. She has a comfortable and laid-back air about her, which is emphasized by her liking for dark, soft clothes, although she will sometimes wear pants with chains and/or straps and heavy eye make-up if she feels like it. Personality: Very open-minded and patient, Julia is a very good listener. She's usually mellow around everyone, but when someone challenges her opinions on anything ranging from politics to cooking, she will not restrain herself from getting in their face about it. You can never tell when she'll use her sharp tongue, which is her most precious secret weapon. She loves foreign films, the band Muse, and travel. Relation to John: Best friend How you know John: They were both the smarty-pants, teacher's pet-kind-of kids in early elementary school and got teased a bit. Naturally, they stuck together and formed a close bond. .................................................. Blood on my shirt, in my hair, on my hands. On him, all over him, slowly oozing and drying, sticking and turning an awful brownish color on his arms. There was no phone in that room, no phone in his pocket, nor mine. But there was one down the stairs. I couldn't leave him there, bleeding like that, so I pulled him with me, as gently as I could. It almost made me sick, just smelling the warm, red liquid hardening on his skin and sopping into the soft, white carpet of the stairway. Thump, thump, thump- he was much heavier than me, but I kept pulling him by his hands, my back facing the foot of the stairs. Every time we went down a step, his body would limply bounce, his head lazily loll to the side and his hair would get more and more tousled from rubbing against the carpet. I felt my stomach churning, my mouth go dry, and my knees shake. Was this how he felt when he saw her die? I didn't want to think of that, just the phone. Only the phone- that was my purpose at that moment, to pick up the reciever and dial those three special numbers- and then, if I found myself still able to speak, I would tell them the address. They'd come, in the ambulance, blaring their sirens, and the whole neighborhood would gather to see. And they'd see me, covered in his blood. They'd think I did something. So would the people in the ambulance. Everyone would see me and think that I hurt him. I mean, I was dragging him on the floor. I picked up the phone anyways. No way in hell was I going to watch him die in such a sad, pathetic manner. |
| Name: Gwendolyn Atlas Age: 18 Gender: Female Appearance: Gwen has bright burgundy hair that falls to the small of her back, and is often bound together by a long red ribbon. Her eyes are blue and they become strangely beautiful when she cries. Her body is trim and fit and she stands quite tall for a girl, at 5’11”. She can often be seen wearing faded jeans that flair at the legs and a long sleeved white shirt with a small T-Shirt pulled over it. Personality: At one time, Gwen was a bright and cheerful teenager, who reveled in good music and great movies. Since Erika’s death she’s become quiet and serene, often disguising her emotions behind a cold, stoic mask. Her twin sister was her best friend and now that she’s gone, it seems Gwen doesn’t know where she fits in. Relation to John: Erika's Fraternal Twin Sister How you know John: Gwen has known John since her sister began dating him. She cares for him a great deal because he was always very good to Erika. ~*~*~*~ The harshest blows in life often come in the blink of an eye, knocking you off your feet and stealing your breath. The unexpected takes you by surprise, wounding you deeply and raining torment down upon you. You mourn for what’s been lost, and wish you’d had a chance to say your last goodbyes. In the secret part of her heart, Gwendolyn Atlas wished this had been so for her twin sister, Erika. A swift, painless death instead of the prolonged suffering her greatest confidant had endured. Cancer had eaten Erika from the inside out, draining her of her strength and beauty slowly. It was a bitter and cruel way for God to take such a great person for this world. Gwen no longer believed in a divine spirit. It was easier than hating that which might be her creator. Gwen mourned in silence, hiding her deepest pain from those around her. She cried at night when no one could see. She visited the cemetery often when all her peers were in school. She’d sit on the granite bench her parents had had erected in memory of their lost child and have long conversations with Erika. Sometimes it seemed as if her sister was there by her side, whispering softly in her ear. Now Gwen was in the hospital again, a place she’d grown to hate. The smell of antiseptics in the air had her stomach churn and her eyes water. The chair she sat in was stiff and uncomfortable and her body refused to conform to it’s contours. ‘Damnit!’ she raged inside. ’That selfish bastard better not die! I’ve already lost my sister, I can’t take this shit anymore. Johnny, oh Johnny, what have you done?’ |
| Name: Dana Waters, but is known to her friends by her Buddhist name, An Age: 18 Gender: Female Appearance: Tall, generously curved, and equipped with strong wiry muscles, Dana, or An, can look quite intimidating. However, this blonde-haired girl is quite serene. Her bright blue eyes are always framed by her blonde hair falling freely in her face. She often wears a pair of shocking blue glasses, that are only really necessary for driving, but she wears them because she likes the way they look. She often wears soft baggy clothes, and is partial to long flowing sun-dresses. Coupled with her soft ivory skin, and her serene face, An is often envied for her beauty. Personality: Calm and peaceful is the name of the game for An. Her carefree lifestyle led her to Buddhism, and more often then not, she will be found meditating or simply laughing for the fun of it. She cares deeply for her friends, and would do anything for them. She thinks little of herself, and often has a childlike naivety that keeps her from realizing that anyone envies her. She is a peacemaker, and goes to great pains to please. She has been caught saying “I live to make people happy.” many times, and lives by that rule. It is possible to upset her, but few have seen her in such a state. Only her best friends, Erika and Gwendolyn, have truly seen An become angry, and they both say its safer not to enrage An. Relation to John: Best Friend of Erika and Erika’s sister, Gwen. How you know John: An has been introduced to him by Erika, but she has never grown to know him very well. _________________________________________ An rushed into the hospital, tears streaming from her eyes. ‘Why must so much pain strike my friends?’ she wondered anxiously, as she came to a sliding stop in front of the teary-eyed Gwen. An sat down next to her grieving friend and wrapped her long arms around her. “Don’t worry Gwen-Gwen. He’ll be fine. Have faith he will pull through.” she said in her soft willowy voice. Gwen pulled back and cast her bloodshot eyes to the ceiling. “Have faith in what An? Faith is shit.” An sighed sadly, her friend’s lack of faith upsetting her. “Gwen. . .” An was at a loss for words. She wanted so dearly to console Gwen, but she wasn’t sure what consolation would be enough for a girl who had lost her twin sister. Gwen looked An in the eyes and burst into sobs. “I can’t loose anyone else An. I just don’t think I can take it!” An nodded and took Gwen in her arms again, soothing her as if Gwen were An’s own child. “I’m here for you Gwen-Gwen. He will make it. I can feel it deep down in my heart. If you can’t have faith in god, have faith in my intuition.” The sobs quaking through Gwen’s body slowly abated and An gave a small prayer of thanks. She had never known John very well, but she intended to bring him out of his depression. The fact that he had attempted to take his own life disturbed An, even though she understood it. ‘Even if neither Gwen nor John can keep their faith in a time like this, I will hold enough for all of us.’ An thought. “Just remember Gwen-Gwen” An said, “I don’t want to loose anyone either. Please, don’t try what John did. It would kill me.” Gwen simply nodded, and An thanked Buddha for that. |
| Name: Rabbit Collins Age: 19 Gender: Male Appearance: Good looking, kind of chubby. Has that just rolled out of bed, unshaven madman look about him. Has two tattoos, one on his bicep of a Celtic Cross, a devil smoking a joint on his right buttock. Earrings on both ears. Never leaves the house without a hat, usually a knitted, black skull cap. Personality: Devil may care attitude. He really hasn't grown up and that pisses most people off, but he is privileged enough not to give a flying shit what those motherfuckers think of him. He's a wretched pot smoker who has turned toking into his own homemade fucking religion, he's merely waiting for the government to accept his petition for religious tax exemption. Relation to John: Friend How He Know John: They met in the ninth grade. Rabbit saved him from an ass whooping. -------- I was sitting on my couch, smoking a joint and contemplating the neverending mysteries of my hair rimmed navel when the phone rang. I listened to the steady drone of the ringer, but never once moved from my outpost on the lime green couch from hell. There was one spring poking me in the ass, almost telling me to get up and answer the phone. I let the rings go on, though. My belly button was so much more fascinating than the outside world. Then the phone rang again and I failed to answer it that time, as well. But it kept on ringing well past the socially accepted four or five rings, so I decided that it must have been important. Important enough to bring me away from my beloved Saturday morning activities. I put the phone to my ear, turned my head and coughed loudly. I felt entirely too stoned to say anything even close to hello, so I just sort of grunted. It was An on the other end talking about some shit that I didn't fully understand. When the word "suicide" spilled from her lips, I came to full attention. The room seemed smaller then and my buzz began to lessen. The smoke was still settling in my lungs, but the effects of the THC had been dampened by this sudden intrusion of brutal reality. I was in the car second after I hung up the phone, barrel assing toward the hospital where John was fighting for his life. John was my boy, this much was true, and I had had an extreme fondness for poor, sweet Erika, but the other women in his life were pains in the ass. There was An with her pretentious Buddhist bullshit and perky Gwen, the bitch queen cheerleader who never even gave him the time of day. And then there was the mom of the group, Julia. Oh, yeah, she thought she was so put together. All down to earth and laid back in an entirely fake, fuck you when your back was turned way. They had all changed since Erika's death, but it wouldn't be long before they went back to their old annoying ways. The hospital was full of sick bastards looking for a government handout. I talked with the nurse for a ridiculous amount of time, trying to locate John, hoping and praying that the little bastard held on for just a few seconds more. I loved the little weakling and to see him go to death at such a young age would have made me give up all hope that the world had some fairness left in it. When I walked into the waiting room, Gwen and An just looked at me. There was no love between us, but the looks we exchanged were not the usual hard "I hate you so fucking much" glares we usually exchanged. I had come to John's side in his time of need and I think that surprised them into dumbfounded silence. I knew plainly what they thought about me. Rabbit and his "I am the center of the universe" complex. They had no idea how wrong they were. I took a seat near Gwen, leaning forward to look at the magazines on the table. I wanted to ask them what had happened, but my own stupid pride was telling me to keep my mouth shut until Julia showed up with information. "Fucking hell, they are not," I said as I glanced at the cover of People Magazine, the fifty most beautiful people addition with George W. Bush on the cover. "Ugh. That man looks like the wrong end of an asshole." "You do know there's a time and place for everything, right?" Gwen said, rather cold. "I think this is an issue of importance," I said, dropping the magazine on the chair between us. "He must have been reading this issue before he tried to kill himself. I mean, it truly is a sign of the end times." "Rabbit, shut up," An muttered. "Whatever," I said, returning the magazine to the table. "The kid is like my fucking little brother, okay. I'm just trying to lighten the mood. Give me a fucking break with your persecution of the fat guy." "It's not because you're fat," Gwen said flatly. "It's because you're a self-absorbed jackass. Stop and consider how we me feel right now. Your jokes are entirely out of place." I looked at An and asked, "Is he going to be all right?" "I think they have him stabilized," she replied with a sigh. "It's hit or miss from here." I leaned back in my chair and took a deep breath. It had been years since I had prayed, but I suddenly found my self asking God for help, begging and pleading with him to restore my friend to full health. And hopefully, he would throw in a little piece of mind so John didn't try it again. |
| I must be dead. It was kind of boring. There was no light at all, just dark. I felt very weak, like I couldn't move. It didn't seem there was a place to go, so I guess it didn't matter. There was soft murmering off in the distance. It started to get louder until it felt like whoever was talking was right next to my ear. Other dead people? I opened my eyes and saw where I was. I cursed under my breath realizing my plan had not gone as it was suppposed to and tried to sit up. It was impossible. There were suddenly people around me, yelling at me and crying and I swear someone hit me. It was too much to take in and I fell back into what I thought was death. It must have been many hours later when I woke up once again. The lights were dimmed and I could hear people snoring. I saw my parents asleep in the far corner and on the other side of the room was An, Julia, Gwen and Rabbit. I sighed heavily and Rabbit snorted and his eyes flew open. He looked confused for a second, like he didn't know where he was. Then a look that really scared me came over his face, a look of being extremely pissed off. He stood up and crossed the room to where I was and hit me in the shoulder. "You fucking asshole," he said loudly, but then quited down when he remembered the other people in the room. "Why the fuck would you go and do something so fucking stupid? You're such a pussy, you always have to be the center of attention!" He started on an unintelligible rant that I don't think he even understood before grabbing his head and taking a deep breath. His expression softened and he came and sat by my side. "I..." my throat hurt, I felt sick, I had to pee and I didn't know what to say. He shook his head slowly and reached into his pocket. "Here," he said, sticking a joint into my mouth and pulling a lighter out, "you'll feel better." "What the fuck are you doing?" Someone hissed from across the room, it was Gwen, "don't give him that! He'll get sick and we'll have a hell of a time explianing it to the doctors!" The flame was almost on the tip of the paper when he pulled the lighter away. No one was more disappointed than I. "Whatever," Rabbit sighed and took the joint from my mouth. I tried to stop him but I could barely lift my arm. And then everyone else was up. They were crowded around me. I could see Julia crying and trying to yell at me. An was going on about something and my parents pushed them all out of the way so that they could each hug me over and over, which kind of hurt. I had been emancipated from my parents when I was sixteen years old and had moved across town just to get away from them. I was surprised to see them there. I knew they cared about me, but I figured that when the doctors told them I hadn't actually died, they would just continue on with their normal routine. "Oh, my sweet baby!" My mom kept yelling, and my dad was trying to tell me something about the cowards way out. Everyone stepped back to give me some air and Julia asked me if there was something I needed. I told them exactly what I needed. "I have to pee." |
| It was the rainiest summer I had seen in my so-far meaningless life- my younger brother had said that angels were spitting at us because we've "fucked up our world quite a bit." (I swear, that kid is a genius) There had been a few flash floods that had taken a few lives. Often times the power went out, and when it was on, all that was on the news was talk about getting rain. I realized that I preferred hearing the same-old, America-praising "Regaining Falluja-this" and "Liberating Iraq-that" to which you would have to have to brain capacity of a mushroom to watch. But alas, I am rambling. So, needless to say, it was raining again as I drove to the hospital in my dad's old station wagon. John's mother had asked me to bring him a change of clothes and a bag containing numerous pastelle cards from relatives and a few kids who we knew from school that had gotten word of his being in the hospital (though I sincerely hoped they didn't know what had happened). When I got there, I was hoping to be able to talk to him. He needed what semi-intelligent conversation that anyone could offer- after all, it was his third day in that horridly sanitary place. After much bickering with a nurse, I was able to get into his room. Nothing had changed since I last saw him there- he was still staring off into space, mindlessly chewing on his bottom lip, which was red and raw from the constant assault. "Hey. Are you feeling better today?" John didn't even look over at me, he just gave a slight nod, which probably meant, "No, Julia, I am not feeling a fuck better than before, but thanks for asking." I walked over to the horribly white and clean hospital bed and held up the Vons grocery bag full of well-wishing cards. "For you," I said, placing it onto the little tabletop next to the bed, which only had an ugly, flower-decorated box of Kleenex and a glass of water on it. He nodded again. It struck me as odd that he just lay there- I bet that he could sit up and move if he wanted to. Obviously he didn't. He probably wanted to appear to people as lifeless as possible- maybe that way he could accomplish a "partial suicide." "Why did they stop me?" the words came out like a sigh, almost reluctant to be heard, but glad to escape. I didn't answer him, and realized that I should have used that valuable time in the car to think of things to say. "And some clothes, just some pants and a shirt, from your mom," I said, holding out the folded bundle of cloth for him to see. He made no motion to reach for it, so I set it down alongside the bag of cards. For a bit I stood there, next to the bed, waiting for either him to speak or for some random words to spontaneously wriggle out of my chapped lips. But nothing happened. I turned and was about to walk out of the room, but he stopped me. "Don't." John was sitting up when I turned to face him, rubbing his temples with his palms. "Just stay for a bit, please?" I couldn't say no, and didn't want to go anyways, so I walked over to the opposite end of the room, grabbed one of the tacky, uncomfortable, blue chairs, and dragged it over until it was next to the mattress. As I sat down, I saw the dark lines caked with browning, dried blood on his inner forearms that peeked out from the white gauzy bandages that whatever doctor had treated him pasted on. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, but I averted my eyes from his arms and stared at him in the face. "Nothing good ever happens to the people who deserve it," John muttered bitterly. His hair was mussed and stuck up on his head quite a bit. Was I supposed to respond to that? Even if I wasn't, I did anyways. "Good things happen to them. It's just... I guess a lot of bad things do, too." That was probably the stupidest thing that I had ever said in my life. John looked at the opposite wall. "If she had to die, then I should too." His voice was quiet and sounded a bit like that of a madman. I shook my head. "She's gone. Julia, that's it. She's completely gone. And I couldn't do anything about it." What the hell was I supposed to say? I was amazed at myself for not breaking down and snivelling my way out of the room. "She's not really gone completely." He looked at me as if I had just insisted that two plus two is forty-seven. "She's dead. She's gone. That's it." "No... I mean, yeah, she died-" "There. So she's gone." "But we still know who she was." I didn't know what I was talking about, but I'd gone too far to pull away now. "It's like, all of us who knew her are still alive. And if we all remember what she was like and everything, well, if one of us dies, a little more of her is gone." He was still staring at me as if I was the stupidest person on the face of the earth (which I probably am). A nurse opened the door and stuck her head in. "Is everything alright in here?" she asked, her chubby hand clutching a clipboard. "Mr. Valentine, could I get you something?" John shook his head. The nurse shrugged and closed the door. "John," I said, a bit hushed, "you die, and more of her is gone for good." He didn't answer, but at least he stopped staring at me in that way. "How would you know?" I couldn't answer him. |
| Gwen escaped to the hospital cafeteria to sip a soda and contemplate the past three days. It was so hard to visit the place where her sister had spent her last weeks of life. The bleached white walls and the sharp tang of antiseptic in the air was unbearable. It seemed that everywhere she looked she was reminded of loss and suffering. With frayed nerves, Gwen cast her empty soda can aside and dashed from the cafeteria. She had to escape the tight confines of the building that seemed to get smaller each time she inhaled. Rain fell from the sky in sheets of icy water, soaking Gwen through and through in seconds. Her hair clung to her face and her makeup ran. She carelessly swiped an arm across her face, effectively staining her white shirt. Mascara and eyeliner left streaks across the material. Ducking into the smoking area, away from the rain, Gwen flopped down on a bench and shivered. She fumbled in her purse for a cigarette and brought it to her mouth with shaking hand. She tried to light the jerking cancer stick, but could not compose herself long enough to bring the flame to its end. “Having problems?” someone asked. Looking up quickly, Gwen eyed Rabbit suspiciously. Water dripped from his face and clothes. His eyes were red and squinted and that only meant one thing. “Do you solve all your problems by smoking a joint?” Gwen sneered. Rabbit jerked a little at her snide comment. He smiled wickedly as he replied, “You ought to try toking up sometime, hot cheeks. It might loosen you up.” “You are suck a fucking ass, up know that?” Gwen rasped, trying once more to light her cigarette. Her hands shook too much to keep the flame alight, and she cursed under her breath. “Better than a high and mighty stuck up bitch,” Rabbit growled. Rising to her feet in an instant, Gwen totally lost it. Sobs erupted from her throat as she gasped, “Do the world a favor, Rabbit, and go blow your fucking brains out!” Once the words escaped her lips, she paled. Whimpering, she fell to her needs and buried her head in her hands. “I didn’t mean...” “Sure you didn’t, you stupid bitch,” Rabbit sneered, his face turning red with rage. “You think of no one but your own goddamn self. Don’t you know...” Suddenly, An was between them screaming, “Stop it, both of you! This is ridiculous! Trading insults while John lays in a hospital bed wishing to die! Get a grip and stop fighting!” Gwen and Rabbit stared wide eyed and stunned at An. She was usually calm and laid back, and it wasn’t often she raised her voice. Now she was angry, and it was clear she was sick and tired of the war raging between cheerleader and pot head. Hand covering her mouth, Gwen fought for words. “I... I...” Closing her eyes, she whispered, “I’m sorry. I just... can’t take this shit. It’s too much...” “Honey,” An said softly, kneeling down to take the sobbing girl in her arms. “I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to be strong. Johnny needs us now. Especially you.” “Me?” Gwen mumbled weakly. “Yes, Gwen-Gwen,” An soothed. “No one was harder hit by Erika’s death than you. You share his pain, his loss. You cannot let the hurt consume you. You’ve got to show Johnny that life does go on, even without Erika here.” Rising to her feet, An looked pointedly at Rabbit. “I don’t care that you hate Gwen. It does not matter at this point. I know Johnny is like a brother to you, but Gwen is the closest thing to a sister he has. Think about that.” Turning, An strode off into the rain. Cursing softly, Rabbit bent and offered a hand to Gwen. “Come on, girl, get up. You heard the queen Buddhist. She’s right. We’ve got to put our differences aside... at least for now.” His joke, however, went unnoticed. Finally, Gwen accepted Rabbit’s hand, and he pulled her up from the ground. When the girl was once more sitting on the bench, he retrieved her cigarette and pressed it between her lips. Whipping a lighter out of thin air, he lit the end and watched it spark to life. Something mumbled under Gwen’s breath caught Rabbit’s attention. Tilting his head to the side, he said, “What was that?” Sucking in soothing nicotine, Gwen muttered softly, “I said, thank you and... I‘m sorry.” |
| An tried to calm down as she walked through the rain. She felt dirty with the worries of the world, and she went to find a quiet place on the hospital grounds on which to meditate. She found a nice stretch of grass a few feet away from the smoking area. An sat down and tried to forget the anger that had overtaken her, and as she did, she thought back on what had happened. ‘I don’t know why I stopped them. It wasn’t my place. I’m only here because my friend is in pain. I don’t even know John. I have no place here. . .I’m an intruder. .’ An thought sadly. Her eyes snapped open and she gave her head a shake. “No,” she said to herself, “I must overcome my own emotions. I have to be here for them.” “You’re a piece of work, you know that?” a voice spoke up from behind An. An looked back, and saw Julia standing in the rain behind her. “You shouldn’t be out here Julia. You could catch a cold.” Julia laughed, her voice rough and tired. “I could say the same to you Buddha girl. What are you doing?” Julia asked as she sat down next to An. “Mediating. I want to help everyone, but. . .I just don’t know John, or you, or Rabbit that well.” An said, taking her glasses off since they were becoming streaked with raindrops. Julia laughed again, and pulled out a cigarette. An saw her looking for a lighter, so An pulled out her Zippo, and let her have a light. “You’re one of those people with a complex for helping people aren’t ya?” Julia asked as she took a deep drag on the cigarette. An shrugged. “I like helping people. I don’t see anything wrong with that.” An said. She pulled out an old looking pipe that had a long stem, and started rubbing it between her hands. It’s bluish-green surface glinted in the rain. Julia saw the pipe and raised an eyebrow. “Hey Buddha girl, I didn’t know you smoked. . .much less with a pipe. I was wondering why you had that lighter.” Julia said with a smirk. An let out a peal of childish giggles. “Tobacco is bad for the body. I smoke certain herbs while meditating. . .” An said, and paused with a twinkle in her eye. “It helps with enlightenment.” Julia’s eyes widened and she started laughing, and soon An joined in. “So, it seems you do share something with John and rabbit.” Julia said as her laughter slowly tapered off. An shook her head, as she put a few unidentifiable leaves into the pipe. “No, this isn’t pot. Much safer, on both the mind and. . .” An took a deep drag from the pipe and laughed. “Who am I kidding? It is basically the same, but it tastes more like chocolate.” An said with a childish grin. Both girls sat there, one with dirty-blonde hair, one with stark, almost silverish hair, twin trails of smoke billowing up through the rain. Julia turned to An, her cigarette hanging limply from her lip. “You know what would be good for John?” Julia said to An. Julia’s dark eyes were shining, and An had to fight off giggles when she thought that the smoke from her pipe was getting to the other girl. “No Julia. What’s your idea, great friend of John?” An asked, her voice syrupy, her blue eyes bright with smokey wisdom. Julia grinned. “I think a road trip is in order.” Julia said. An nodded sagely. “Yes, that would be great.” An looked at the grass around her and then looked at Julia questioningly. “Why are we wet?” Julia just laughed and helped An back into the hospital. |
| I watched from the shaded portico as Dalai Lama Jr. and Susie Cheers-a-lot walked back into the hospital. Maybe I had broken through to Julia for a brief second in time, or maybe it wasn't me that did the breaking. It was probably just the emotions of the moment. I found myself thinking back to the first time I ever laid eyes on Julia. There was a moment when my heart stopped beating, then started up agains seconds later, more rapid and even than before. The truth was, she had been the object of many sexual fantasies, mostly involving mountains of weed and maybe a paddle or two. But I would never admit that to her. Any time I had tried to talk to her as a younger man, she would play the cool game and pretend that I hadn't even existed. I guess I had thought a lot about that as a younger man, what people thought of me. But from the moment I smoked my first joint, the opinions of others became as pointless as watering plants during a rain shower. When at last I returned to the hospital room, I found the others sitting around John in a semi-circle. It sincerely looked like prayer time, so I immediatelly turned around and checked the number to see if I had the right room. It was, in fact, the correct room, but there was something deeply religious, or maybe just communal, in the air. Plain fact was, anytime I walked into a room and found people gather, I either got the feeling that they were talking about me or I played with the notion that my fly was down and Mister Peck was hanging out for all the world to see. "What's going on?" I asked, cocking a single eyebrow. "Are you worshipping Yaweh or trying to commune with the dead?" "We're talking," Gwen stated flatly, a bit of an icy breeze racing across her tongue. "Should I tell him?" John asked of the others. There was silence all around, but then Julia spoke. "He'll think it's stupid," she said. "Mostly because he didn't think of it." "Err-deh ... apparently I'm a retard who can't decide for himself," I replied mockingly. "Mom, my hair hurts! Strong like Hulk!" I walked around the room like a dyed in the wool idiot for a moment, hitting myself in the head with the balls of my palms and knocking over everything that wasn't tied down. For several seconds, I remained a spastic idiot before being satisfied that they got my point. "How about you give me the idea and let me, as a big boy who wipes his own ass, decide whether or not it's stupid?" I said brightly, like a frenetic cheerleader on nitrous oxide. "We've decided that Johnny needs to get away," Julia said finally, squeezing John's hand as she spoke. Then Gwen added, "We're going to take a little trip. I'd prefer you stay home with your thumb up your butt. The choice is ultimately yours, though. Search your heart and for the sake of the sanity of all those involved, say no." "Grand Canyon, baby!" I hollered, my voice echoing through the hospital. I walked from the room, my hands thrust triumphantly into the air. I ran through the hospital humming the theme to Rocky. I went down corridors, into elevators, the whole time bouncing up and down, shadow boxing and humming like a fucking idiot. It took me about an hour to get thrown out of the hospital, but it was entirely worth it. |
| "I don't want him to go!" Gwen said suddenly, and it pissed me off. "Look," I said, "I don't want to go anywhere, I want to stay here alone forever, but if I have to go, he's going too." Yeah, I was being whiney, but I felt strongly about this. Gwen stood up with a huff. "Whatever," she said, "I'm not happy about it." "He's the only one with a van big enough for all of us," Julia said quietly, "he has to go." I wonder if Julia knew about Rabbit's crush on her. He had told me about it once a long time ago. I don't know if he still had feelings for her, though. Thinking about relationships got me depressed again and I turned away from everyone and stared out the window. It had stopped raining. "What is wrong?" I heard An ask, I wonder if she was planning on going as well, I barely knew her. I don't think I would mind if she did. "Just thinking about Rabbit and... there was someone he liked, I don't know if he still does," I told her. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see Julia shift uncomfortably. "Will you guys go now? I want to be alone." They filed out the door, all of them except Julia. "We'll come back for you tomorrow afternoon, okay?" She said. "Do you think the doctors will let you go?" I shrugged. "We'll stop by my house, right?" I asked, "so I can get some clothes and stuff." Julia hesitated. "John," she sat at the edge of my bed, "it's kind of a mess, why don't I just get your stuff for you?" "I want to," I looked her in the eyes, "it'll be fine." There was a pause between us and Julia shifted on the bed. She came forward suddenly and engulfed me in a hug. "I love you so much, John," she told me, "if you ever do something like this again I'll..." She slid her arms down to my wrists and held them up in front of my eyes. "It just makes me sick," she said. "It didn't hurt," I told her, "it didn't hurt." I don't know why I told her, I guess I thought it would make her feel better. She shook her head slowly and headed for the door. "You just don't get it, John," she told me, "I'll see you in the morning. She turned off the light and shut the door. I was alone in the dark. |
| "Do you realize what you're doing? Julia, honey, you were going to apply for college, for Brown and Harvard and Julliard, you're giving that all up by doing this." My mother and I were setting the table for dinner. I had told her about the idea of taking John on a trip across the country to make him feel better. She wasn't happy- we'd be missing our senior year of high school for it, and going who-knows-where with "that odd one, what's his name, Rodent?". My father would be home with my brother in a few minutes, and I would have to tell him, too. So, as the two of us set the silverware beside the plates, we half-bickered about the possible trip. Fortunately, before Mother Dearest could work herself up even more, I heard the garage door open and close, and in walked my round, balding father followed by the genetic experiment known as "Robert," aka "Little Brother." He was listening to something on his Walkman and bobbing his spikey-dark-haired head up and down, up and down, up and down, on and on and on and- "What are you listening to?" "Dude, I'm listening to Simple Plan! They're so sweet-" "Wow. Get a life." "Julia, I don't like it when you use that tone in the house. Come on, put the salad and pasta on the table. I'm going to talk to your dad about things..." "Oooh! Julia got in trouble!" "Robert, you too. Go wash up." I shall be kind to whoever is reading this and just summarize; Mom tells Dad of "The Trip." Dad says, "Fine. Her loss." Mom gets upset. Mom yells at Dad. Dad rolls his eyes. Robert says "NO FAIR!" This continues for a bit until, unnoticed, I sneak off from the table and hide away in my room, where awaits a yummy poster of Matt Bellamy for my pathetic fangirl eyes to admire. The bickering goes on, loud enough so that I can hear the sounds, but not the actual words, until my admirable father, in all his stubbly glory, finds where I am hiding, strolls in, and says, "You can go. Don't expect your mother to talk to you again in your lifetime though. Blah blah blah, you are missing out on important things, blah blah, not too happy, blah but I know you're mature, blah blah, you'll have to deal with the consequences, blah blah wheeze blah, hope this helps John, blah. G'night, sweets." And the door closes. By the way, I think Rabbit has ADHD. .................................................. John was getting out of the hospital. I found out after I got a call from his mom. It was a very odd moment. I wanted to cry when she called me, because basically, all she could get out was, "Thank you for finding him in time." And that got me thinking- what if I hadn't gone over to his house that day? I had just found out about Erika's death and had rushed over to see him, and that's when I found him bleeding on the ground. What if I had just tried to call him? What if I had waited a day or two for him to calm down? I didn't want to think about the possible outcomes. But that afternoon, I went over with my dad and Gwen and her parents to visit. Everything seemed completely unnatural- hardly anyone dared to say anything except "Oh, I'm so glad you're feeling better." John wouldn't look Erika's parents in the face. He seemed almost shameful about even being in their presence. My dad went off to talk to John's mother about the proposal of skipping school to go on that trip (my mother refused to come because she can't be around sad people without getting frustrated). Gwen, John, and I just tried to make awkward small talk. Gwen was perfectly at ease with the idea of missing our senior year of school. I guess I was, but I wasn't sure about John. He seemed blank- no emotions, no opinions. His hair looked limp, and his face lacked a great deal of color. He was sitting there, hearing the words of what we said, managing a nod or two or a little "Hm" of agreement, but I seriously doubt he actually listened. I actually have no remembrance of what we talked about- we probably could have discussed our favorite type of butterfly, for all I care. But it ended with us just kind of hugging each other and mumbling random things and slightly tearing up and mumbling incoherent words. And then suddenly it was night time, and my dad had come up to John's room, where there was still a little blood stain on the carpet, and told me that it was getting late and mom would want us to come home. Gwen said she had better leave then, if it was late. We said our goodbyes, and as my father and Gwen stepped out the door, I took one look back at John, numbly sitting on the foot of his bed, looking after us with sleepy, sad eyes. "When do we leave?" He scratched his knee. I took a step out the door and looked back. "Whenever feel you like it." John nodded. "Soon, then." "Okay." |
| Gwen's fingers danced slowly over the wet tombstone. She'd seen the words enough to know them by heart, and yet she read them every time she visited her sister's grave. The letters carved into the granite seemed to hold some sort of soothing power. Erika Elizabeth Atlas January 16, 1985 - June 21, 2003 Cherished Sister, Beloved Daughter Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there's a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see. -Helen Keller Gwen could cried here, staring at her sister's grave, when she could not find tears anywhere else. But for the redness in her eyes, no one would have known she wept; the rain hammering down upon the earth hid her tears. She was soaked to the bone, hair and clothing clinging to her body, but it did not matter. It seemed fitting that the rain should fall during such a bitter and trying time. The angels mourned the loss of such a great person, because the world would no longer shine as brightly. Erika was a star that was plucked out of the skies too soon. "Eighteen years was not enough time, little sister," Gwen whispered, her fingers caressing the granite tombstone. She'd always called Erika 'little sister' though they were only separated in age by minutes. "Gwen?" Looking up, she forced a smile for An, who had just appeared from the trees, soaked through and carrying a bouquet of wildflowers. "Can't sleep either?" Gwen whispered softly, as she patted the soggy grass beside her. Sitting down and laughing softly, An replied, "You know me, I'm a night owl." "It's so hard, An," Gwen choked. "I know, Gwen-Gwen. I know," An answered gently, pulling her best friend into a tight hug. She tenderly wiped hair from Gwen's face as tears fell from her own eyes. "We'll leave soon, won't we?" Gwen asked. "Yes. I think John is about ready to go. This place hold bad memories for him." Pausing, An looked up into the dark sky, eyes seeking out a distant star. Finally, she added, "For all of us." ~*~*~*~ Note: I wasn't sure when this story should take place, so I just picked the year 2003 to put on Erika's gravestone. Hope that's okay! |
| An slowly packed her leather knapsack which was creased and worn with time. Unlike her soon-to-be traveling companions, she had no need to either ask her parents for permission to leave, or to take off her senior year. An had never known her parents, and the aunt who had raised her had always been extremely liberal with her upbringing. It was only good fortune that An was the kind of person who made her own curfew, and had learned to cook for herself at an early age. An grabbed a picture of Erika, Gwen, and herself at the beach. They had taken the picture their freshmen year of highschool. The image of Gwen and Erika sitting so that the waves washed over their feet, and of An herself laying buried in the sand, laughing in pure untainted joy, made tears sting An’s eyes. Once again the pain spiraled up from deep within An’s soul, consuming her, overwhelming her. She did her best to hide any sadness from her friends, but when alone, An could admit the true depth of her sorrow. The same year that fated picture had been taken, An had begun to have trouble in school. Nobody could really tell why these problems started, because An seemed like a finely adjusted teen. She did her work, she was intelligent, and she never talked back to her teachers. She just seemed to be absent more and more from school. . . Always coming back with bruises or scrapes, or other mysterious injuries. Because of her good record, and a tearful story to the principle, they had allowed her to home school herself. She worked through each subject, and became a graduating junior. During that first year of isolation, the only thing that had gotten An through were her friendships with Erika and Gwen. An accounted her entire survival to the two twin sisters, and had slowly grown to think of them as family. They were more family to her then her damn aunt had ever been. An placed the picture lovingly into the bag, which she had used to run away from her aunt’s house many times. When she saw that she had all necessary items packed, she grabbed her safe to get her savings. As soon as her eyes fell upon the box she frowned and more tears spilled from her eyes. It had been pried open, and was completely empty. All three thousand dollars were gone. An’s eyes flamed and she ran down the steps into the kitchen. Her aunt lounged, in only a bathrobe and skimpy nightgown, at the kitchen table. Her aunt’s cold blue eyes met An’s dark sunset gaze, and her aunt scowled. “What do you want? Don’t tell me you’re going to preach your tree hugging shit to me again, cause I don’t want to hear it.” An shook her bright blonde mane, and glared at her aunt, the only person An so openly displayed hate towards. “I want my money back. I’m going, and I want my money.” An said, standing firmly on the moldy and stained kitchen floor. An faintly noticed a paperback addition of the Karma Sutra laying next to her aunt’s hand. An winced, once again reminded that the one who had supposedly ‘taken care of her’ for so long was an utter whore. An’s aunt, Barbra, laughed, her voice reminding An of a rusty gate screeching back and forth, over and over. An resisted the urge to lift her fingers to her temples. “Who says I took your shitty money?” Barbra asked. An came forward, her hands fisted at her hips, using all her calm to not strike out at the vile woman before her. An knew her aunt had stolen from her before, since An was the only one working in the household, but she had only called the police when it was a large amount. This was the largest amount yet. “I know you took it. . .Aunt. . .and the police would know too. Please, just give it back. I know you don’t want to go to jail again.” An said, her normally willowy voice trembling with anger. Barbra stood and for a moment An knew she contemplated backhanding her. She had done so to An so many times before, An was used to it. Finally, with a curse, Barbra pulled the wad of money out of her bra and shoved it at An, who stood at least a few inches higher then her. “Just take it bitch. Just leave!!! An staggered backward, and counted the money as she left. She had left nothing behind in that accursed place, and it was all easy to carry since she had little in the first place. An knew her aunt had kept a couple hundred dollars, but An just let it be. An was almost to the door when she felt something hard collide with the back of her head. She fell down the front steps and into the yard, and saw her aunt’s high-heeled, leopard print shoe laying on the ground, where it had fallen after contacting with her head. From inside the slowly dying house, An heard her aunt scream. “And don’t come back!!” An’s head throbbed as blinding pain shot across her skull and pounded behind her eyes. She faintly felt a warm spot slowly spreading across the back of her head. An got up and traveled to Gwen’s house, knowing they all would be leaving in a few hours. “Buddha, give me strength.” An said as she stumbled wearily to Gwen’s house where everyone waited. By the time she got there, there was a noticeable streak of crimson in An’s normally bright silverish hair. |
| I gave a great sigh as I heaved the old suitcase into the back of my van. The rear panel was rusting and the shag carpet inside smelled like cat piss, but she was slowly shaping up. I still had a bit of painting to do, but couldn't do it until the rusted panel was replaced. Thus my conundrum with the shaggin' wagon I had always dreamed of owning. Every time I thought she was ready to roll, some new expense popped up and replacing the back panel became secondary to new spark plugs, fuel lines and fan belts. The old trailer looked more and more like a piece of shit, the closer I got to departing. Yeah, I had the privacy of a shack in the middle of the woods, but the place was about as roomy as a squashed matchbox. The only benefit of the whole situation was the solitude to grow. The marijuana plants were shaping up quite nicely, already starting to bud in the garden patch next to the porch I had built with my own two hands. And the truth was, the plants weren't the only things that made the place appealing. The memories hung in the air like an ever-thickening fog. The fog got denser and denser with each joint I smoked, but some of those memories needed to fade from my mind. Many of them were sounding their epic death nill. And now the past was about to end up a thousand miles in my wake. ~☼~ When I got the John's house they were all gathered on the front lawn. An was sitting on an overturned garbage can holding a wet rag to her head, a rag that was stained with blood. "Get into a fight, Little Buddha?" I asked. "Attacked by a shoe, actually," An replied, removing the rag from her head to reveal a narrow gash. "It's fine, though." "Maybe you need some stitches," Gwen added, placing her hands on An's shoulders. "Who did it to you, Dalai?" I asked, pushing my way forward for a closer look. "Anybody I need to give a good talking to?" "My Aunt. She's not worth it," was her somber reply. "Let's just get the fuck out of here." "Everyone say their farewells and whatnots?" I inquired, throwing open the door to load their luggage. "Give the boyfriend a last minute blowjob before the big goodbye?" There was complete and utter silence as the bags were loaded into the back. The drive out wasn't much better. They just listened to music, one or two of them singing along as they went. "It smells like piss in here," Gwen moaned finally, breaking the deafening silence. "I gotta tear up these carpets somewhere down the road," I said, joint dangling from my lip. "In fact, I got a pretty good idea for them." The house was dark when we pulled up. As we drove slowly through the night, the ladies in the back had torn up the carpet and were now rolling it up in the oil spotted driveway. I was surprised they were going along with it, must have been the contact buzz from my joint. One at a time, I carried the pieces of the carpet to the Jeep Cherokee parked in the driveway. An was giggling as I filled the car with the rancid carpet. It was funny for her, but I found myself in sudden need of a hot shower. It was in those final moments of stuffing the vehicle, I realized that the singular offense wasn't enough for me, so I took it upon myself to add my own scent to the discarded carpet. It came as a complete shock to everyone when I pulled down my pants and urinated through the driver's side window. It wasn't like a few droplets of pee either. It was a full on torrential downpour of urine. The carpets would be removed and the smell of cat piss would fade, but the odor of Rabbit Collins' urine, tainted with marijuana and powered by beer, would take months to fade. |
| The doctors said I needed supervision, but I didn't want any. My parents returned home, taking all the sharp items in the house with them, of course. I couldn't even cut the sandwichs I packed in half cause there were no knives. I had always had a wierd thing about that, cutting the sandich in half, that is. I would just have to suffer through a whole sandwich. Everyone showed up on time, right when they said they would. I was sitting shotgun in Rabbit's smelly van now as he drove quickly away from the scene of the crime. I think I was bringing everyone down, I didn't really feel like laughing. I was probably just tired. "So," Rabbit took a big puff off his joint and passed it to me, "we don't even know where we want to go, do we?" "Far away," I inhaled deeply and held the smoke in until I felt I would burst. Rabbit attempted to make a right when all of a sudden Julia shot forward and grabbed his shoulder. "No," she said, "keep going straight!" "Why?" Rabbit asked, "that'll take much longer to get out of town. If you go that way," he said, passing the turn as Gwen asked and heading straight, "it'll take you right to the highway, just pass the graveya.... oh." "It would have been fine," I told them, "I have never even visited her grave, I wouldn't even know where to look." It sounded awful, but I couldn't bring myself to go to that place. I turned back to Gwen. "What does it say?" I asked. "What do you mean?" She was confused. "On her grave, what did they put?" I almost dropped the joint and Rabbit snatched it away from me. Gwen paused for a moment and looked over at Julia. She told me what it said and I nodded my head slowly. "Hmm, that's nice, she would have liked that." Gwen's eyes started to water from what I assume was thinking about her sister. "You ladies want some of this shit?" Rabbit asked as he stopped the car in front of a red light. He started to pass the joint back, but pulled it down out of view when he spotted a cop car pulling up next to us. "Shit," he said, and waved politely at the cop. I snickered and sat up straighter in my chair. "I want breakfast," Julia said suddenly. "Yeah, me too," An nodded her head enthusiastically. "Fine," I told them, "it's on me." I had been given a wad of cash by my parents before they had left, adding it to the savings I withdrew from the bank, I had about two-thousand-and-fifty dollars. And hey, money is no good unless you spend it, right? |
| The first few hours in that van consisted of fighting over whose Egg McMuffin was whose, sniffing at the smoke from Rabbit's joint, fiddling with the beat-up radio, and staring at Erika's grave. That's all we did- stare. I forced myself to go numb, so that I wouldn't turn away and seem rude by running back to the van. I saw Rabbit and John out of the corner of my eye. Rabbit, in a rare display, showed some respect for the dead by not smoking the joint at the cemetery- he threw it out the window before we turned into the complex. But when I saw John, I was unnerved. He seemed dead, just like the girl in the ground beneath our feet. I was pretty sure his eyes weren't even focused on the words on the tombstone, but on some fresh bird droppings on the top of the smooth, granite slate. And then An said, "We should go now. It's starting to rain." .................................................. "MIIICHELLE, MY BELLE, THESE ARE WORDS THAT GOOOO TOGETHER WEEEELL, MY MICHEEEEELLE! MIIICHE-" "RABBIT! STOP BUTCHERING THE GODDAMN SONG!" "-TRES BIEN-" "NOW!" "I NEED YOU, I NEED YOU, I NEEEEEEE-HEE-HEEED YOUUUU! THAT'S ALL I HAVE TO SAAAAAY-" The radio was angrily punched off by Gwen. "I thought you liked the Beatles," Rabbit drawled. Gwen hit his seat with her closed fist. "I do." "Then let me sing it." "You're not singing it, you're destroying it." So on and so forth. The first leg of the trip, which was getting out of town, was very tedious and full of pointless arguments that lasted anywhere from two seconds to two minutes (ghastly, I know). An spent most of the time breaking up the fights, when she wasn't rubbing the back of her head, and I asked John every now and then what he wanted to do. "I don't know," was all he said. Somehow, Rabbit's horrible driving lulled me to sleep, and I dozed off amidst bumps, his vocal accompaniment to some Mariachi music that he blasted on the radio, and the occaisional swerve. The more swerves the better. It only meant we were getting John out of the city. |
| An woke slowly, her eyes protesting even the waning light. She finally sat up and realized she had been lying on Gwen’s shoulder. An stared, transfixed by the line of drool coming out of Gwen’s mouth. “It coulda hit me.” An said in shock. “Thank Buddha I woke up!” She excamlied, pushing herself up to the front seats. She looked out at their surroundings and frowned. Only John and Rabbit were still awake, everyone else was sleeping in the back. “Where are we, Rabbit?” An asked, sleep still causing her words to come out husky and slightly slurred. “Virginia.” He responded, as he stared at the truck in front of them. He seemed hypnotized, and right away An could see he was stoned. Oh, what a surprise. “Why the hell are we in Virginia Rabbit?? Weren’t we supposed to be going to the Grand Canyon?” she asked, wondering what was so exciting about the truck in front of them. The light was fading and her glasses were in her purse. “Well little Buddha, we saw this truck. . .and like, it said Levis.” Rabbit said with a laugh. “I couldn’t help but think, ‘Damn, is that truck full of fucking jeans??’, so I just had to follow it.” He said, chuckling to himself. An was silent for a moment, and both boys, since neither really knew her, expected her to react like Gwen and tell Rabbit off. An fell back, giggling. John stared at her. “Are you high too girl?” he asked. An shook her head, wiping away the tears which sprung from her uncontrollable laughter. “No, its just funny.” Suddenly An perked up and moved forward again, almost sitting between the two front seats. “Well?” She asked. “Well what?” Rabbit asked her, looking at her as if she was a cobra about to strike. ‘What is with this girl?’ was written all over his face, and that only made An laugh more. “Well, is it full of jeans or what?? I need to know now!” An said, her blue eyes shining in the dying light. A beat passed, then all three started laughing like crazy. It wasn’t till Rabbit almost collided with the Levis truck that they stopped laughing. He pulled a sharp left and moved into the other lane. An picked herself up off the stinky van floor and sighed. “Serves me right for not wearing a seatbelt.” she said with a giggle, even though her nose was severely red from face-planting so hard into the floor. An poked Rabbit in the shoulder. He stared at her. “What do you want?” “You are so high its not even funny.” An said, and poked him again. “You shouldn’t be driving. Let me drive.” she commanded. Rabbit laughed. “No way. This is my car. Nobody drives but me.” An sighed. “Come on, do you want to crash and kill us all? I wouldn’t mind all that much, but it might be slightly unpleasant to crash. Not very comfy.” she said, her ever present smile shining on her face. She knew it often made her look like a regular air-headed blonde, but she knew it was simple good cheer, not stupidity, that let her smile so much. John looked back at An. “He’ll never move An. He’s like, attached to that seat.” John said in a sagely manner. “I think his ass became permanently attached to the upholstery two states back.” John just laughed when he heard Rabbits almost inaudible growl. An smiled, not because the boys were bickering, but because John was loosing some of his coldness the further they got away from their hometown. An sighed, rubbing the back of her head. John noticed and turned around almost completely in his seat. An wondered if anyone wore their seatbelts anymore. “Your head any better?” He asked. It almost seemed as if he cared. More than An had expected from someone who had gone through so much pain. “A bit.” An said with a grin. After a moment of silence, An decided she didn’t want it to be quiet. “My aunt doesn’t have a car you know.” She blurted out, wondering what the reaction would be. Rabbit almost crashed for the second time (that An was aware of) that day. “Then whose care did I piss in?” he asked. An laughed, a silvery sound that hardly disturbed the sleeping girls. “My aunt’s boyfriend of the week. But don’t worry, they’ve fucked so many times in that car, my aunt cares about it too. And that bastard gave me this.” she said, pulling up the long sleeve of her dress to show a large yellowing bruise, the size of an orange, on her arm. “And this.” she said, showing a shallow cut on her right shoulder. All the while she was just smiling sadly. "So he deserved it." John looked at the injuries avidly. “You mean. . .stuff like this has happened before?” he asked, his hands going to hide the hideous cuts on his wrists. An just shrugged, pulling her sleeve back down. “Its not that bad. One must fully understand pain before they can overcome it.” she said, giving John a meaning full look. Rabbit snorted. “Why didn’t you just call the police, Dalai?” he questioned, and An was annoyed to hear a bit of that usual, ‘Isn’t that obvious? Damn, blondes are stupid.’ in his voice. “I have thought about it. But what good would it do? I just turned 18, so before now, I would have gone to an orphanage or group home. I never wanted to end up there. Now I have enough cash saved up, and a large enough bank account to move out.” she said with a grin. “I won’t be going back when the trip is over.” An said, a sigh of utter contentment coming from her. For a moment the three of them listened to the mingled sound of Lynyrd Skynyrd playing on the radio, and the soft breathing from the two girls sleeping in the back. “Okay, let me drive.” An said suddenly propelling herself forward. “I said no!” Rabbit said, clutching the wheel protectively. An pouted. “Come on! I really want to drive!” she said, ignoring John's laughter. An steeled herself and glared at Rabbit. “Even if you don’t move, I’m going to drive.” she said, her voice suddenly scarily cheerless. John looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “What are you gonna do? Sit on his lap?” he asked jokingly. “Sure.” An said, oblivious to the stares John and Rabbit shared at that. An’s complete determination to drive simply intensified her naivety. An wasn’t stupid, but to some things she was hopelessly clueless. When neither of the boys replied, and Rabbit still didn’t move, An finally took the wheel. From Rabbit's lap. Yes, at times An was hopelessly clueless. |
| "Damn," I said softly as An nestled her bottom into my lap. "If I wasn't so fucking wasted, I might pop a boner right now." The beginnings of a smile started on John's lips. An seemed clueless to my words, she just drove, eyes fixated on the road. I began to shift, slowly relocating myself. An was cute, that was for sure and her sliding onto my lap had turned me on, but I was too tired to have such thoughts. My actions would have defied the warning in my mind and I would have suddenly and foolishly groped her had I remained beneath her any longer. As I moved further out of the seat, An slid into the bucket indentation without even batting an eyelash. I balanced there on the side of the seat with my back to An, watching the road and glancing over at John from time to time. "Doin' all right, brother?" I asked finally. "I feel calm for the first time since ... you know," came his tailored reply. "It might just be the fact that I'm blitzed." I shrugged and glanced into the back of the van. Gwen and Julia were curled up side by side. Julia facing the back, Gwen facing the front. Gwen seemed to be sleeping, but I saw a flash of white from behind her half veiled lids and realized she wasn't sleeping, she was just lying there thinking. All the snoring was coming from Julia. "Your sister was the coolest person I've ever know," I said without thinking. Gwen looked up at me, the same harsh expression on her face. It was the way she always regarded me. I remembered that when we were younger, third or fourth grade, she had been my friend for the space of a day. It was long before I had met John. I was a ghost in those days, never speaking, never wanting to stand out in a crowd. But Gwen had been my friend for almost 24 hours. We'd met on the playground while the other kids were playing dodgeball. I, of course, had not been picked for either team, mainly because I was reluctant to play and also because no one wanted the fat kid on their team. I remembered seeing her standing by the jungle gym, the wind doing a number on her hair, the sun bouncing softly off her pale skin. If at the time I had thought of girls as anything other than gross creatures I would never understand, I would have sworn that an attraction had risen up in that moment. When she had come over and talked to me on that day so long ago, I had nearly pissed my pants. Once the intial introductions were done, though, I had felt comfortable around her. For most of the day, we had talked and played together, sat together at lunch and even walked home together at the end of the day. But the next day was a different animal. She had suddenly had more friends than I could have counted and in the mix of all that, there was no time for little fat kids. "She had good things to say about you," Gwen muttered finally, her expression softening. "I'm not sure I understand why." "I loved that girl," was my simple reply. "She was like the sister I never had, sometimes never wanted. But I think your sister saw the good in everyone, even a piece of shit like me." I noticed Johnny looking at me from the corner of his misty eye. There was no sadness in his soul at that moment, though. The tears that were coming to his eyes were the sweet memories of a wonderful person that it was impossible not to fall in love with. Her laughter was soft and inoffensive, her smile warm and inviting. Everything about her said "Welcome. Make yourself at home. Care for some tea?" "There never will be another like her," I continued. "She left a mark on everyone she met. It's impossible to live your entire life without making an indellible impression on at least one person. Erika, though, she moved through life leaving that mark, that impression. All the people that knew her will carry that impression with them for as long as they live. I guess in that sense, Erika will live on through all of us, through everyone fortunate enough for having known her." Gwen was a little awe struck by my words, that was obvious. She probably had never thought me capable of such deep fondness. But the true me was always fond of coming out at odd times, making people immediatelly change their impressions of me. If I could keep them guessing, what fun was life? "I felt that," An spoke from left field. "I seriously felt that ... like ... inside." Before I could stop myself I started to laugh. John was quick to join me and Gwen also found it in her heart to have a little chuckle at An's expense. But as quickly as it began, the laughter faded into modest smiles and a sigh from John. I looked back over my shoulder at An. She seemed content behind the wheel, so I wasn't going to argue with her. John gave me a nod and hopped into the back of the van. I quickly slid into the passenger seat before Gwen had the chance to even maneuver toward it. "Since we're alone," I paused and then continued after a moment of calm silence, "I just wanted to know if you were ... single?" "If I wasn't, you think I'd be here?" she replied, a smile in her eyes. "I had a boyfriend once, but he was a humorless asshole." "Well, just like you I'm not going home after this," I said ruefully. "Never really had much of a home. My mom kind of abandoned me when I was a little boy. But really that's an understatment. She left me in a dumpster." "In a dumpster?" An was shocked. "Yeah. Threw me right into the trash like the broken condom that aided in my creation. I was about two at the time. I guess she was fed up with diapers or some shit. Anyway, I went to live with my grandmother after that. She did her best with me. But when I was sixteen, she died of a stroke. I went to live with an older friend of mine. There were some good times until the good times came to a hard stop," I paused for a long while before continuing. "Lennie, my friend, he was a heroin addict. Something happened when he was backing the needle out of his vein. He hit a major artery or something and basically bled to death while I was out at the store one night." "Why are you telling me all this?" she questioned, not in such a way that she wanted me to stop, rather she didn't understand why I was opening the flood gates on her. "I don't know. Probably the weed," I said, following up my statement with a cough. "Anyway, I've lived a lot of life and most of it was bad, so if you need someone to watch your back while you try to make a life for yourself, I'm your guy. Hard worker, pretty smart. I smoke a lot of weed, but it's the only bad habit I really have." "Why help me, though? There's nothing all that great about Dana Waters." "Who the fuck is Dana Waters?" "You're looking at her," An smiled. "Dana. I kind of like that name. Sounds kind of like Danish. Danishes are good." "Poison for your body." "Let the poisoning commence." |
| John let out a snort and an uncontrolled laugh. Dana? That was An's real name? Somehow, in some twisted way, John found this the funniest thing he had ever hear. The funniest, that is, until Rabbit compared her name to a Danish, which was funny cause it was true. "I fuckin' love Danishes," John got out through a fit of what could only be characterized as giggles. Julia stirred from her slumber and, in her sleepy haze, mentioned something about peanut butter. John would have laughed had he not glanced at his watch in the moments before Julia's outburst. "Can we, like, pull over at a rest stop please?" John leaned into the front of the van where there was a comfortable silence being shared by An and Rabbit. "Why?" An seemed a little bummed out, "I just got behind the wheel." "Please?" John put on his best puppy dog face and An was, like any woman he had ever encountered, putty in John's hands. Or at least she pretended to be. "Fine," she sighed, "there's a stop coming up in... that sign says it's gonna be another ten minutes." John nodded his head and scooted back to where Gwen and Julia were. Gwen smiled at John and asked how he was feeling. "I'm fine," he sighed. John barely ever, when talking to Gwen, made eye contact with her. She just looked so much like Erika that it frankly scared John. It scared the shit out of him. He hoped she didn't take it personally. "Do you have to go to the bathroom or something?" Gwen still smiled, "got a little pressure down in your tummy?" She poked John just below his naval. "I have to change my bandages," he said quitly. So quietly, in fact, that Gwen had not heard him. He repeated his previous statement, louder this time. "Oh," Gwen's smile had slightly faltered, "I see." John had been instructed, every five hours, and once before and after sleeping, to apply an ointment to his cuts to prevent infection and decrease scarring, and to change the bandages on his wrists. After ten minutes, like An had stated, the group arrived at the rest stop. Julia was shook awake and the group filed out of the van, stretched, and wandered into their respective restrooms. Rabbit stepped up to a urinal and started to do his business and John stepped up beside him, with a urinal between them, of course. "So..." Rabbit said, trailing off. "Yeah..." John agreed. It was all the conversation they needed. Rabbit stepped away from the urinal and exited the bathroom while John hung back. He began the process of undoing his bandages while staring at his reflection in the filthy bathroom mirror. His eyes, once one of his most handsome features, had become sunken and bloodshot, with dark circles hanging out below them. He glanced down at the white bandage that had been covering his wrists. Some of the dried blood that had scabbed onto his arms had flaked off onto the bandage and had tinted it a dull copper brown. With both bandages off, he applied the cold ointment to his cuts and hissed at the stinging it produced. "What the fuck is taking so..." Rabbit pushed his way into the bathroom, Julia could be seen just outside the door, a worried look upon her face. They probably thought he was trying to kill himself again, and that kind of pissed him off. "Sorry," Rabbit said, closing the door. John didn't think that anyone but Julia had seen the cuts on his arms unbandaged, and it must have come as a shock to his long time friend. John finished wrapping the clean bandages around his wrists and stepped out into the bright, harsh sun. |
| *gaaaaaah i must say sorry to everyone in the CF for not adding for a while, my account is going rabid again and it's taken me a while to fix things (i'm actually having lots of trouble saving text on the computer). so yeah, sorry if i keep adding late... guuuu..* There had been a stream, then a long strip of light, tan dirt, then a cow, then grass, then more cows... perhaps a breath of a cloud in the pale, faded sky. That was all I could see out of the window for what seemed like eons. The only sounds were the hum of rubber rolling against gravel, the squish as our bags shifted place in the back of the van, and a grumble from one of the sleeping passengers. It was our fourth day out in the big, bad, sinister world, and if I had learned anything during that short amount of time, it was that Rabbit is a kicker. Yes, even the most valiant warriors must take a break and pass out for a few hours. John was in the same spot, up in the passenger's seat with his chin tucked to his chest in deep slumber, Gwen was driving, and I was the only other one awake, squished in the back with An using my shoulder as a pillow and Rabbit's leg plopped across my lap, almost like a seatbelt. And he kicks when he sleeps. Hard. Like, raise foot up in air and bruise boobs kind of hard. Oh, I was having the time of my life. "What time is it?" I asked after recieving another sharp blow to the bosom from the van's owner. Gwen kept one hand on the wheel as she reached to her side, digging her phone out of her purse and flipping it open. "Two PM. They've been sleeping since early this morning, haven't they?" "Yeah. Healthy, I-" I choked back my words as the van's wheels caught on something, the whole vehicle jerking forwards and stopping violently. John was thrown forwards and hit his head on the windshield, An slipped off me and her face landed on my thigh, and Rabbit completely rolled to the front of the van, his back pushing into the chairs. With a loud yelp he hopped up, banged his head on the ceiling of the van, yelped again and fell back down. "What the hell was that?" I mumbled as An pushed off of me. Gwen poked her head about, looking around. "Shit. Do yo think it was a pothole?" she said, getting up. I followed everyone out after Rabbit threw open the door and dashed out to the side of the van before emitting a storm of slurred swearing. "Some fucking kid's bike, that's what, I swear it if I find that little cunt, I'll-" I felt a slight tugging at the hem of my shirt and turned around to find a most peculiar sight. There was a young boy, probably no more than ten or eleven years old. His hair was thick and dark, and it stood up all over his head. He was scowling at me, thick eyebrows lowered over his deep brown eyes, and his tanned face was dirty and sweaty. Over his shoulder was slung a backpack, packed to the bursting point, obviously not for school- we were in rural easter Kentucky. By now everyone had noticed him. "Hey lady," he said in a very balsy voice, "you gonna hafta give me a ride now. You trashed my bike." "Where are you off to?" I asked him. "Anywhere away from here." |
| The kid had attitude, I liked him almost immediatelly. His bravado was something that you didn't find in most people his age, but he was unlike most people his age in a lot of respects. For one, he smoked like a chimney, sucking down Marlboro Reds like a heroin addict in the late stages of withdraw. He said his name was Lennie and I found that quite appropriate. He looked and acted just like a Lennie. Lennie "Kick You In The Nuts" Wachowski from the corner was what they would have called him had he grown up in a Polish Catholic Brooklyn neighborhood. His mangled bike made screeching noises as it slid around in the back of my van. Lennie was sitting between Julia and me in the front of the van. He used his finished smoke to light the next one. It was a few minutes before any of us spoke. "I need a destination, junior," I said, looking at him from the corner of my eye. "You can't come with us, you know." "I don't give a fuck where you drop me," he said in a non-chalant, devil-may-care voice. "The train station would be cool, the bus-station wouldn't be as cool, but I can deal." "Don't you have a home, sweetie?" Julia asked him as if he were a typical run-of-the-mill Nickolodeon addicted pre-pubescent sweat ball. "I'm fed up with my dad," he said, taking a deep draw of his smoke. "He's dating this bitch. It's like my mom never existed. Parents suck." Something about what he said pissed me off, so I snatched the cigarette from his mouth and tossed it out the window. He growled, lit another one, which also ended up out the window. "What the fuck?!" he bellowed. "Don't talk to me like that. I'm about ten years older than you," I chastised. He crossed his arms and scrunched up his face, "You better give that back or I will seriously fuck you up." "You want a pop in the teeth?" I said, raising my hand in a threatening manner. "All your fucking attitude, you know where it will get you in life? Dead on the floor with a needle in your arm. I knew a Lennie once, yeah. Just like you, so full of his own shit he couldn't see straight. He's in a homeless cemetery now, no headstone. Just a cross with a number on it. I'm sure that's how you want to be remembered, right? 7243-12." "You don't know shit!" he replied. "I don't see any bruises. You don't look underfed. Seems you're living pretty good." I slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the car. Standing in front of the driver side, I gestured to him. He climbed out and stood there, eyeballing me with extreme attitude. "I'll pay for your bike, but I'm not taking you anywhere." I peeled off some bills and slid them into his shirt pocket. There was a bit of the child coming through his tough gaze. Unsure, uncertain, no idea where to go, how to get there or how to survive when he did. "I'm gonna leave you with this," I said, climbing back into the van. "The road ain't full of nice people like us. Most of them will diddle your wang, then slit your throat and dump you in a ditch. Go home!" I punched the gas and left the kid far behind. Julia just stared at me with her mout agape. |
Name: Leila Stanton Age: 18 Gender: Female Appearance: 5’7 and 120lbs. Her eyes are pale bottle green surrounded by long black lashes. Her hair’s is pitch black, casting a bluish sheen in the right light. It is board straight and just past her shoulder blades. Leila is lithe with lean muscle and curves in the right places. Her skin has a naturally dark golden hue, like a deep tan. With high cheeks, not too arched eyebrows, and full lips, Leila’s facial features are striking, but feminine nonetheless. Her clothing choices tend to be on the dark and mysterious side. Personality: Leila is a very serious, strong and at times, surprising girl. Usually cold and distant, but to the few people, who have taken the time to befriend her, she is completely loyal and dependable. However, she has a bad habit of tuning out those around her and drifting away mentally. Make no mistake though, she is neither dumb nor careless. In fact she is the exact opposite. Leila has an amazing mind and is ever watchful. If someone gets on her bad side which is actually incredibly hard to do, steer clear. Relation to John: Nip, Zero, Zilch, and Nada How you know John: (See Above) ~*~*~*~*~ Leila walked down the empty stretch of highway. She didn’t know where she was going, but she did know that she was never going back to NYC. Unless it was in a coffin. Her car had broken down twenty or so miles back. Her cell phone had no reception, so she gathered what she needed from her car and left it smoking on the side of the road. It didn’t matter that the car had been a sweet sixteen present from her parents. They were dead now. Worrying about material items would not bring them back or help to ease her pain. Leila would just walk to the nearest town and be swindled the local mechanic. It wasn't important. Leila did not have a shortage of money. Or maybe she would just walk forever. Leila liked that prospect. An ongoing seach for something. Anything... She didn’t know what it was, but it was out there. Sighing to herself, she flipped the volume up on her MP3. Teen angst mingled with forbidden love. So cliched, yet so true. The music was too loud. Too destructively sweet. It literally hurt her to listen, but the pain was welcome. She turned it up louder and gritted her teeth against the reverbarating sounds. Perhaps her eardrums would shatter. Was that even possible? Would the blood rush to her brain and kill her, or would she just be deaf for the rest of her life? Lelia didn’t know. A wind picked up and she stopped. Going further off the road, she slid her backpack from her shoulders, untied the black hooded sweater from her hips, and slipped it on. Before resuming her aimless hike, Leila pulled a thick novel from her backpack and resumed her walking. She continued on, time just lost its’ meaning. This entire “middle-of nowhere” experience was not in her line of expertise. She was a city girl, born and bred. She could take care of herself in a dark alleyway filled with gang members carrying switchblades and chains, but somehow the prospect of being stranded miles from civilization scared her. Leila laughed to herself. This was new... Being frightened of dirt and some hills. The sky was slowly darkening, and the sunset was, in a word, magnificent. Leila had always liked the way the clouds painted a picture that no artist could ever truely duplicate. Sunrises and sunsets were always different and the natural unpredictability had a calming effect on her. Leila turned the MP3 off, set the book down on the ground and then just sat, facing the west. Silence. No one for miles around. It was perfect. She pulled a sketchbook and charcoal pencil from her bag and began drawing. A picture took form. It was not of the sunset. Leila never drew Nature; it was an affront to Her beauty. No this picture was a feeling. An artist’s greatest achievement is to capture a single moment, freezing it in time. And at this particular moment, Leila’s goal was to visualize her own emotions. There was no way to describe the sketch. It was, in essence, a picture of Leila’s soul. Lost in her admiration for the ever changing sight in the sky and absorbed in her own artwork in progress, Leila didn’t notice the sound of a vehicle coming down the well worn road. The car parked several yards behind her. She glanced up from her work at the sound of a door shutting. Ignoring it, Leila went back to her sketch. Someone tapped her on the shoulder. “Are you okay?” A blonde girl asked. “Interruption is the most severe form of disrespect.” Leila said softly, closing her sketchbook. “Why did you close the book? That was a beautiful picture.” Leila said nothing. She gathered her things, replacing them in her bag, stood up, and resumed her walking. Leila didn’t look back and only hoped they would leave her alone. |
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