I didn’t even care. Should that worry me? I wasn’t- I don’t even- I dunno. I was a killer and that didn’t bother me at all. I bet that guy was some sick pervert who did all sorts of sick, deranged stuff to girls. He had it coming. Why do people think they can do that? Get away with stuff?
Although, admittedly, I wasn’t one to talk either. Chrissake, I had killed someone. I probably wasn’t going to get away with that. But in my own messed up way, I had created some sort of justice. It felt right to me.
But I couldn’t just play God like that! God, geez, what was wrong with me?!
But oh yes, yes, it felt good. I realized, no, this wasn’t justice, this was revenge. I was subjugated by my own emotions to these criminals’ own level- And I reveled in it.
“OHHH JEFFY BOY!” JESUS CHRIST WHAT WAS THAT. Some screechy girlified voice snapped me out of my thinking.
Was that...Kent? How did he know I was here? I looked around my surroundings. Well, I was back in front the of the dorm complex. Oh. And I was bloody. This was going to be fun to explain...
“Kent?”
“THE ONE AND ONLLLYYY! Need a ride huggy muffles?” he asked, poking his head out the window.“Yeah, that’d be n-is that Wendy in the car with you?!”
“Yeah. Problem?” “You can talk to me like I’m here Geoffrey,” Wendy said mildly.
“I thought we made a pact to never bring girls home in the car!”
“Yeah, but Kat needed a girl buddy with her! We couldn’t just drive her home with just us guys, she might think we’re crazy kidnappers!”
I sighed. “And why exactly is Kat in our car?”
“My car. And because we’re going to go to the park!”
“The heck Kent? It’s like, three in the morning.”“Geoffrey, we’re young, the night is beautiful, why not?”
Shrug. Couldn’t argue with him there. I hopped into the car.
Wendy already occupied the shotgun, and unfortunately for all of us in the car, Kent was driving, so I sat in the back next to a sleeping Kat.
“Jeffy boy, why are you so bloody?” Wendy asked, nonchalantly.I froze, nervous, puke-inducing anxiety and fear trickling down my spine. I was hoping it was too dark too notice...oh no. Great. Ohhhh, god. GOD. No no no no no... “It’s tomato juice,” I lied, smoothing over the small quivers in my voice. Thank god no one could see my twitching hands. I really felt like I was about to hurl. Despite my best efforts, sweat started trickling down my face. I curled in, pressing my knees against my chest so hard that I could barely manage a breath and I felt horribly miserably but I couldn’t stop I couldn’t loosen up I was crammed into this position like my life depended on it I- “Since when have you been drinking tomato juice??” Kent questioned incredulously, voice a whole pitch higher. “Ouch, bro, who doesn’t? I’m trying to be healthy!” I said. Was I speaking too quickly? Did I sound too fake? Was this even believable?! Bloody did anyone notice my voice CRACKING?
Bloody bugger. This was how it was going to go down wasn’t it. I was going to get found out, reported, and trucked off to jail. Was it that bad? Maybe jail was okay. Just another housing facilitiy, right? Didn’t I always complain life now was too boring and I needed a change? Yeah. Still couldn’t calm down though.
“BUT JAIL DEPRIVES YOU OF YOUR FREEDOM STUPID! “ some part of me mentally screamed. Oh god. yeah. That was right. I had hit freaking rock bottom.
“So what, are you one of those elitist douchesnozzles who pop their collars and brag about their gym memberships and girly mineral water now? Organic health fanatics,” snorted Kent.
“So what, are you one of those elitist douchesnozzles who pop their collars and brag about their gym memberships and girly mineral water now? Organic health fanatics,” snorted Kent.
Wendy clucked her tongue. “Look who’s talking gay boy! You eat fat free Greek yogurt because you complain you have a droopy butt!”
“Yeah, but it works, doesn’t it? You love my butt!”
“Not as much as I love food. Sorry Kent, you’re replaceable.”
“Not as much as I love food. Sorry Kent, you’re replaceable.”
“WHAT?! I bet food doesn’t tell you that you look beautiful!”
“Kent...you don’t either.”
My numbed fear slowly died down. My heart rate started to return to normal. Thank god for couple fights. I calmed down while Kent squawked about his undying adoration for Wendy.
After they had quieted down, I added, “Your butt is still droopy though. Luckily for me tomato juice prevents that.”
Wendy appreciated the joke, because she started laughing. Kent, on the other hand, cleared his throat loudly and stopped the car, got out, and slammed the door shut.
“I think you hurt Kent’s feelings,” Wendy whispered, still laughing,
“ I HEARD THAT WENDY BUT NO, I’M NOT HURT. WE’RE AT THE PARK LOSERS SO GET OUT OF THE CAR!” he yelled from outside.“DID YOU JUST CALL ME A LOSER? HARK WHO’S TALKING, MR. I HAVE A DROOPY TUSHY!”
“YOU WILL NEVER LET THAT GO, WILL YOU? AND WHO THE HECK SAYS ‘TUSHY’ ANYMORE?? ARE YOU 80?! BECAUSE THAT HAIR STYLE SURE IS!”
“YOU STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE, KENT, RIGHT THERE, BECAUSE I’M GOING TO BEAT THE SNOT OUT OF YOU!”
I watched as Wendy shoved open the door, spring-boarded off the seat, and launched herself at Kent, slamming the door shut behind her.
“GET A GIRLFRIEND THEY SAID! IT’LL BE FUN THEY SAID! SHE WON’T BE VIOLENT THEY SAID!” I heard Kent scream, punctured by a bunch of “OW”s and “MOTHER OF GOD”s.
Kat stirred behind me.
“Wuzzgoingyon?”
“We’re at the park. Kent did tell you he was taking you to a park, right?”
“Mmmm, yeah yeah. Sure. I really don’t know. I just uh, need some fresh air.”
I nodded and got out of the car; Kat followed suit.
The park was pretty dark. After all, it was something like 1 in the morning. Pretty quiet too. It was in a wierd place-there weren’t any homes or neighboorhoods near by. Anywhere within a two mile radiues of the place was pretty empty. Nothing but broken beer bottles, dead grass, and chain link fences. The park itself wasn’t much. A scratched up plastic slide that probably smelled like vomit, a creaky swing set rusted over, some monkey bars...it was mostly grass. A bit dead, you know, from over watering, but still...grass.
We weren’t far away enough not to get a whiff of the street vendors. They were still out, doing whatever it was that they did. Deep fried food, coconut, garlic, something spicy, and uhm...cotton candy? And that scent fresh air always smells like, but you can’t quite place.
Kent already had a boombox set up.
“Kent, you still have a boombox? Who even still owns a boombox??” Kat said. She scrunched her nose in dislike. “So bulky.”
Kent shushed her. “Boomboxes are an aquired taste for the sophisticated, my dear,” he said airily, dismissing her comment with a wave of his hand.
“Why did you bring a boombox man? Aren’t you gonna, y’know, play on the swing set or something? Like the little girl you are?” I smirked.
“Of course, Jeffy boy. I will. Eventually. But it’s a nice August night, we’ve got nothing to worry about, and I want to relax with some music. Now shut up and listen to some!” He flipped the boom box on, tuning it to a radio station.
The boombox crackled to life. Some song with a weird, heavy drum beat and a voice akin to a goat yodel rang out of the speakers.
“Ooh, Rihanna!” Kat squealed, starting to sing along and sway to the beat.
Kent had his hands clamped over his ears. “Is that what they call crap now day? Kids !”
“Oh god THAT IS HIDEOUS someone shut it OFF!” Wendy moaned, gagging. She made a move to turn off the radio. “You still have that mixed tape in there, right??” she asked Kent. She gesticulated at the boombox.
“Of course I do!” he said.
“You guys have a tape? Your boombox plays stapes??” I asked, incredulous.
“ALL GOOD BOOMBOXES PLAY TAPES, YOU UNCULTURED SWINE!” Kent screamed, pulling on his hair and jumping up and down. He was absolutely ridiculous. “THE REAL QUESTION HERE IS WHY DON’T YOU HAVE A TAPE AND A BOOMBOX THAT PLAYS THEM! STOP QUESTIONING MY LIFESTYLE GUYS!”
I raised my eyebrows, but backed down all the same.
Wendy started playing the tape as Kat’s singing died down (“Shine like a diamond, shine like a …” died away into the night. Not that it was bad singing anyway-it just wasn’t great.) A motown-y, guitar melody started flowing into the air.
Kat made a noise of distaste. “Kent, what is this??”
Kent rolled his eyes. “JUST LISTEN, WILL YOU ALL??”
“People say I’m the life of the party because I tell a joke or two...”
Wendy brightened up. “Tracks of my Tears!”
Kat looked at Wendy, concerned. “Need a tissue?”
I stuck out my tongue. “No, that’s the name of the song, genius,”
“How am I s’posed to know that? Geez, you guys are tough! Not everyone listens to these crumbly old hippy songs!”
“THEY. ARE NOT. CRUMBLY !!” Ah, yes. If the blaring music didn’t wake up everyone within a ten mile radius, then the agonized shrieks of Kent’s pain would.
Eventually, the ringing in my ears stopped. Wendy was placidly picking at flowers in the ground, weaving them into a necklace. Kat was brooding on the swings. Kent...Kent was dancing with himself.
The voices of The Miracles died away, and were replaced a drum roll. An offbeat guitar strummed out a few notes, before “Something in the way she moves...” sank into the dark.
A shriek reverberated through the air. Our heads all swiveled towards the source in alarm: Kent.
“WHAT?” he squawked, cheeks flushed. He was obviously happy. “This is my favorite song!”
He closed his eyes, turned his face toward the sky, and hummed along. “C’mere Wendy, we’re dancing!”
Kat looked bemused. “Uh, isn’t this song in The Perks of Being a Wallflower?”
“I LIKED THIS SONG WAY BEFORE CHARLIE, HONEY. WAAAAAAY BEFORREEEE!”
Kat shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever,” I heard her mutter. “Let’s dance too, Geoffrey,”
I licked my lips. “I don’t dance.”
“Sure you don’t!” she said, and grabbed my hand.
I inwardly groaned. I really didn’t know how to dance. I never learned! My pride was going to suffer a serious blow. “No, Kat, really-”
“Stop protesting! You’re doing fine!”
I made a sour face. “I stepped on your foot.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“Oh, reaaaally?” I said, more of a sarcastic uh-huh, sure you did then a question.
“Yeah. Denny-that’s what I used to call Aiden- accidently dropped a knife on my foot. He apologized of course, though,” she laughed it off. The beat was very slow. We were slow dancing. “He really apologized a lot. Profusely! I guess he was traumatized to have hurt me or something.” she smiled. Her breath hitched. That’s what triggered the flashback.
He was traumatized to have hurt me Suddenly, I wasn’t in Kat’s arms, in the warm, dark park, listening to The Beatles.
Breathe. Breathe man. She’s probably okay. She must be okay. A scream. It cleaved the air. It came from the little tiny hut. The tiny little hut where I knew, for a fact, Daphne was in. “DAPHNE! DAPHNE! HOLD ON I’M COMING-” was all I remembered screaming, over and over. I wacked the foliage out of my path. It was so hot. The foliage wacked back. Please, please, let her be okay, let her be okay... I kicked down the door. Didn’t need much help falling over anyway. I didn’t see Daphne. Maybe she’s not here. Maybe that wasn’t her screaming. Relief. I was so worried- Then I saw her head. Lolling. Pale face in gross contrast with the glistening, claret red blood rolling down her face, like tears. Numb. Couldn’t move. What- What was - NO It seemed like I could’ve lived a dozen horribly long, drawn out lives , but that wouldn’t even begin to compare with the time that passed, like thick sticky syrup, from when I started to move a little. Just a slight movement of my head. I saw Anjali holding her. A feral beast. That was the thing clawing me inside out. A blind rage. “NO!” I screamed, taking out a gun, pulling the trigger, watching Anjali futilely try to shield herself-
I gasped, my mind already so much clearer. I remembered now. Some of it anyway. I pushed Kat away. “Hey!-” “I’ve got to go.” I was a murderer. What was I doing, listening to The Beatles, dancing with a girl? Oh, it made so much sense. Why I didn’t like Anjali. Bloody, foul, disgusting- Daphne...I still didn’t know who Daphne was. But from what I just remembered... there wasn’t much left to imagine. Had I been dating her? I was guessing so. I remember loving her. So much. Anjali took that away. So I took her away too. Took her life away. I couldn’t quite remember the details. God, it was so frustrating. Jesus freaking christ.
But more importantly...
How did she come back?
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