(I really need to come up with a better title but my word count for this round is 1176. I still don’t know where I am going with this, except for 50,000 words)
There are these few minutes before the acid really kicks in when I start to think that maybe this shit isn’t working and Bobo totally ripped me off. Which is funny since I didn’t pay for anything. Bobo wanted to split his tab because he wanted to be high but not too fucked up that he wouldn’t make any money. He’s like a complete and total acid head. I had heard once that he had taken twenty hits of acid last summer. He went out to the desert on a trip with his older brother and they did acid because they wanted to be like Jim Morrison and be incredible poets. I think it may have permanently fucked him up because he’s never been the same. My mom, before she died, had told me that she thought something was seriously wrong with Bobo. She had said that his head wasn’t on right, like a screw was loose. She thought maybe it was his parents, but that she could sense that something was going to go wrong with him. I think she may have been trying to give me some kind of warning. Not that he is a bad kid, but she was right about the parents. There are a lot of fucked up parents in this town. Most likely we all will grow up to be fucked up too there isn’t much hope. Oh but who cares. I feel sick now.
The world is literally swirling around me and I totally just remembered that I was supposed to finish reading Black boy for Mr. Basiles’ class due on Monday. I’m hoping there isn’t a quiz or anything. I bumped into something or someone I’m not to sure a lamp or something or maybe a trench coat. I can’t tell and suddenly everything is completely loud. Outside. That’s all I can think is outside.
Kara is in my face. She wants to know where the tv came from what’s wrong with me and did she want to know about the assignment?
“What?” Kara “Are you fucked up? God damn it.”
And then she’s gone and I just want to be outside.
There is this oppression that is filling like a glass of milk and squashing me drowning me and I know if I can just get outside into the air into the nature out of all of this music. Why? Why can’t any of these people have any taste in music? Why do I have to live in this backward po-dunk town? I know. I just know there was supposed to be more for me. I talk like I am already dead. i wish I were dead.
“I don’t know why I do this?”
I said that out loud? Or did I imagine a voice. Zen is standing to the right of me. I feel a cool burst of air on my face it is like someone is rubbing a melting ice cube over my face. I check Zen’s hands to make certain he isn’t touching me. He isn’t he is staring off into the woods and smoking a cigarette. Even in his stupid flight jacket and his lame shaved head he looks cute. He actually is cute. I never noticed before, and I suddenly want to kiss him. No, I tell myself, this is totally the drugs talking. But he is cute. He has the most beautiful jaw line I have ever seen. He is about four months older than me but for some reason he looks like a grown man versus a seventeen year old boy. Oh, no, I know the reason. It’s the drugs.
Bobo gave me a hit. It’s called Blue Sky and it must be fucking mad because he’s so high he gave me a hit. Are you feeling it?”
“Yeah.” Is all I can manage to get out of my mouth and I feel a slight jerk in my neck then a massive tension all over my body and I feel like I am seizing. In fact I feel like I am contorting into the shape of Quasimodo, but I don’t want Zen to look at me. I think I’m ugly. I’ve never cared if Zen thought I was cute and now I’m completely self conscious. I’m seeing him transform into an angel and I’m putrid. I hate this shit and I vow that this is the last time I ever do it. I said that before I know, but this time I mean it, and I do.
I step back against the wall of the house and slide down till my butt is on the grey blue planks of the porch.
“Man.” I can hear the sound of Zen inhaling. I can hear the sound of him exhaling. I watch the smoke twist like a ballerina ghost and the float off in to the forest of fairies. I know there are fairies because I can see them in the forest and they are calling me I can hear them whispering my dreadful name. I want to press my hands to my ears to keep their voices out but I don’t want Zen to see me I don’t want anyone to see my hump.
“What are you doing?” Zen is looking at me.
“Stop looking at my hump.” I say.
“What?” He turns to look at me.
“Your boots are too fucking loud and if you even begin to talk to me in that stupid ass accent I’m going to slit my wrist.” I say trying really hard to be cool.
“Mel. I’m not even moving so you can’t hear my boots, and, stop being such a bitch to me. Are you trippin balls or what?”
“Yeah. Now shut up.” I pause a moment and look into the waving fairy trees. “Please.” I feel myself whisper.
Zen is suddenly sitting beside me.
“Did you levitate and land here?” I ask him. I know this is crazy but I swear I didn’t see or hear him walk.
“My God you did!” I say.
“No I didn’t! I walked over here.” He starts to laugh. ” Man, this stuff is going to be good.”
“Zen?” I feel this involuntary whine and flirt in my voice and I remind myself that I am going to be mean to him tomorrow. Especially mean so that he can’t tell that I am finding him painfully attractive at this very moment.
He looks at me and I swear that he is looking at my mouth and I think that according to television this is when we would kiss, but instead I say, “What makes you think you are a stupid skin head that’s the stupidest things ever.”
I can feel him sigh heavily. He pulls his long legs up close toward his body and drapes his lengthy arms over his knees as he drops his head between his knees.
“Stop it Mel. I feel like shit tonight okay, and fucking Kara is going to kill me once she finds out about the tv-”
“She already knows.”