Entwined
The people were jumping, crowding onto one another until it looked like one, big orgy. I stood on the edge, in a corner under the bleachers. The bass flowed through me like cool autumn air. Music pulsed the air around me, making it seem almost hard to breathe. I hated school dances. I wanted to take a hammer to the DJ’s table just to stop the pulsing. But no. I had to stay here. It wasn’t my choice. But what if… I looked towards the doors, where police officers stood, shouting over the music to one another. I would never work. I pulled a flask out of my cloak and poured half of the vodka into the Hi-C that someone had handed me five minutes ago. As I drank I observed how the people dance, how the girls giggled and gossiped stupidly when a boy asked them to dance during a slow dance, the boys guffawing and shoving each other towards the girls. Then I noticed the group near me. They must have noticed me, because they were shoving a pale faced, black haired boy at me. I grimaced and got ready to kick his shins if he tried anything. He came closer and stepped under one of the only lights in the gym. It was Pete. I sighed a breath of relief and took his hand, pulling him into the shadows. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the boys gaping stupidly. Pete looked back and then followed me into the shadows, glad to be out of the big moving mass of high-schoolers.
“How ya been, Babe?” Pete drawled out jokingly.
I laughed and punched him in the arm. He was joking all the time. He punched me back and smiled.
“So how’s your eye?” He touched the leather patch over my ruined eye and looked at me again.
I knew why he was worried. He was worried I’d confess. Confess that he did it. After he carried me into his house alone after accidentally shooting me in the eye with a BB gun, He had patched me up as best as he could, then drove me to the hospital.
“It’s ok, Pete.” I thought for a minute. “Hey that means less eye liner work to do in the morning!”
He laughed and glanced over at the guards. His black hair was in a mess. My white hair was pulled back for tonight, exposing my patch.
“Ivi, you wan-“
“Wanna bust ou-“
“Sorry.” He mumbled. “You go first.”
“You wanna bust out of here? I’ve been waiting for a break the whole night.”
“Ditto, Ivi, ditto.”
We grasped hands like always, pinkie twined around pinkie, even though we would never be a couple. He pulled a package of poppers out of his jacket and looked at me, flashing a lopsided grin. I pulled the flask from my cloak and offered it to him. He took a few swings then handed it back to me, and I did the same. The I stowed it away, pulled my cloak closed and fluttered my free hand twice. The signal. We had always used that as a signal. He pulled out the small bag from the box and gave me half of it, all with one hand. I fluttered my full hand again and started chucking them, one by one, at the police. They acted as a gun had been shot with each pop. They looked around wildly and started to shout over the music to the kids, telling them to get out. We slinked out the now unguarded doors and out into the night, our pinkies still entwined.
After drinking the whole flask, we wobbled down the street, slightly buzzed, laughing madly and joking, throwing the poppers in front of people’s doors and running. He had that dazzling smile on his face, his teeth slightly flashing and the left corner of his mouth turned up toward his blind eye. His other eye sparkled, a bright green color. After we had found his car parked on a side street, we got in and let the seat down so we could look through the sunroof. Thoughts swam through my mind, but I forced them away and relaxed. Suddenly Pete was propped up on his arm, looking at me curiously. I turned my head and looked back, smiling. He leaned in slowly, closer and closer, until his nosed touched mine. I knew he was going to kiss me. He was just so close. Then I was being squeezed hard.
“I LOVE YOU, IVI!”He sang.
I was so confused I started to sputter and move my hands rapidly around my ponytail.
“Haha! Gotcha!” He poked my arm hard. “Woah calm down, Ivi, I was only kidding. Dude I love you so much! But in a brother- sister way.”
I laughed, For real, and hugged him back.
“So where you wanna go, sis? A club? My house?” He nudged me at the last comment and I smiled.
“Go to Billy Bobs!”
He started the car and pulled out of the small street, onto a big deserted one. Then he gunned the engine and sped down the street towards the highway. I squealed with delight and he drove faster, happy to hear me cry out in glee. We drove through a red light into a seemingly empty four section. Our world suddenly went white as the car that came out from the left street headlights flashed into our car. I screamed, and I think Pete did to. I heard a screech as he stomped on the brakes. There was a crunch and a sharp stabbing pain in my side. The door and been crushed, and so had the passenger side of the car. There was a crunch that signaled my ribs had broken. Glass and hot metal showered down on us, but I barely noticed. I was concentrated on trying to look at Pete. I turned my head slowly and looked at him. He stared back, horrified. Black blobs had started to cross over my eye. He called out to me. I opened my eyes one more time, my head facing the passenger window, or what was left of it. Through it I could see the telephone pole the two cars had crashed into start to fall. I opened my mouth to yell for Pete to run, but my voice had failed. It crashed down on top of his side, crushing him. I tried to scream, but my throat closed completely. My vision faded, and my chest faltered, and then stopped moving. The ambulance came five minutes later. One of the men peered into our car. He saw the most extraordinary thing yet. There, in the middle of the seats, bloody from where our nails had cut skin, our pinkies were still entwined.
Buried
Tears of laughter slid down my face as my friend, Scar, Told one of his perverted, yet funny jokes. We were sitting outside my house, in what everyone called the rich neighborhood. My parents were rich, making all of their money off of the major chocolate business they ran. I, there only daughter and child, relished in the money. I was spoiled. But I wasn’t and everyday rich kid. I was Goth, and, as my friend says, half boy. I loved to hang out with the guys, who were all just like me. We wore eyeliner. We wore black clothing. But all of us were scary as hell. None of the other kids even dared walked by my house if we were there. As I laughed, I saw my friend Pete turn towards the street.
“What is it Pete?” I asked, still giggling.
“There’s someone over there. I can feel it.” His voice was a quiet whisper as always.
“Yea, Pete, I can too.”Scar said as he stood up. “Fang, look, there is someone.”
I stood up and was immediately struck with fear. There was something out there alright. Nothing I have felt. But the worst part that I couldn’t get over was the fact that this… power was radiating from a person. I gasped and fell back into my seat, to afraid to look on. I had never been this afraid. Scar looked at me with a worried look and started to move towards me. I was still staring at the spot where it was when he grabbed my arm roughly. I jumped and jerked out of his grasp.
“What is it? Fang?! What’s wrong?!”
I mumbled something and looked at Scar, my eyes glassed over with fear.
“Power. That person… He’s radiating so much power. It’s…” My voice faltered. “It’s scary.”
Pete looked up at me. “Forgive me. But it’s time to go.” He got up and silently patted my head, then walked off into the night.
Scar looked at me, then the empty house. “You know what? I think I should stay the night. Your parents won’t mind right?”
“My parents won’t be home for another 4 days. They had to travel.” Suddenly I felt scared to be in a big house like mine alone.
“Alright then! Let’s go!” He pulled me up and opened the front door. As we walked to my room I caught a glimpse of the study. All the lights were off. I felt a jab of fear run through my stomach. It was inside my house. Scar didn’t seem to feel anything as we went into my room. I jumped into my bean bag chair and looked at me with his laughing eyes. I felt safe around him. No more fear. Just warmth. I smiled and flopped onto the bed, and immediately sand into the feather mattress.
“Oh no the damsel is being eaten alive!!” Scar shouted playfully as he grabbed me by the waist while I struggled franticly to get out of the mattress before it really DID eat me. He pulled my hips and laughed again. Finally we were out, stumbling to the beanbag and laughing. He fell into it first, and I fell on top of him, going into hysteria of giggle fits.
“You know what Fangy?” He asked, pushing me to the side. “You really are something.”
I didn’t ask what or why, because I knew I wouldn’t get an answer. I just sat there, slowly dozing off. He got up and laid down on the floor, dragging one of my pillows down with him. I stayed in the bean bag and plunged into a deep sleep.
Images flashed through my mind. Scar was thrown into a wall. I heard glass splintering as blood trailed from the wall down to Scar. I was paralyzed. A dark figure walked across the room. I was grabbed and stuffed somewhere. I didn’t scream. I didn’t struggle. I just slept.
I woke up. It was completely dark. The air was stuffy, and I could tell I wasn’t on the chair. I thought I had rolled onto the floor, which is why I woke up. But when I tried to get up to open the window, I hit my head.
“wha…?”
I put my hands up and felt a hard splintery surface. When I put my hands to my sides, not even 10 inches away, was the same boards. I started franticly to shove at the top of the box. My screams echoed inside, and my head hurt, My chest had become tight. My air. I had to stop. But I kept fighting, pushing at the boards. Nothing would give. I started to heave. I was running out of air. My chest felt like ti was being compressed. I kicked at the top and grabbed my throat. I was suffocating. Red spots flew across my vision. I was dying. As I started to go under from lack of oxygen, one thought ran through my mind.
I had been buried alive.
6 days later....
“Come on men! Just a few more shovels!” Med were piled on top of my house. My box was now my box. I had lived there for two days before they started to dig over it. I never realized how deep it was. As one of the men grunted, I floated towards him, screaming my protests. But he just kept on digging. I drifted over to the man with the suit. Scar was standing next to him, his face drawn and lifeless. I saw cuts running up and down his arms from where the glass had cut him.
“We found it while we were digging for some pipes. One of the men had noticed that the soil was lose and we came to investigate.” He looked up as one of the men had finally pried my box open. There I was, my face white and my lips blue. But I didn’t understand. I was here. But then I was down there. Then images flashed through my mind. Blood. Darkness. Too close. I looked down and realized: that was my corpse.
I was dead.
Buried alive.
Blissful Death
When had my life gotten so dark? I don’t know. All I know is that living in the dark is like beer for and alcoholic. Pure bliss. When I had first started dressing in black and wearing my eyeliner thick and heavy, my parents would not handle it. Tonight, though, they had finally had enough. I stormed out of my room after finding all of my black jeans and long sleeves shirts replaced with pink and white skirts and purple t-shirts. I screamed when I found all of it in a taped up box, along with my make-up and shoes. My mom came up me with an odd blank expression and a monotone voice.
“No more, Elizabeth.” She glared at me. “We’ve had enough. Your CD’s and clothes and all the s**t you wear on your face is gone. The trash will pick it up tomorrow.”
I slapped her. I didn’t know what to do so I just slapped her across the face. She reeled back, holding her stinging cheek, and looked at me.
“Go to your room.”
I glared at her and stormed off to my room, not even bothering to throw a snide comment back at her. It had been weeks since we had actually spoken to each other. I was by the window when I heard the door open and close. Then I had an idea. Since we had an alarm system, I just couldn’t open my window at night. So I waited and watched them carry the box to the curb. Right when the door opened, I threw the window open and waited. But no one came up the stairs. No one shouted to me. I was ready. I started packing up thing that I needed. My journal. My small white wolf, Sam, who was the only comfort to me. My dead rose that was encased in glass. That was it. My backpack was still empty, and I was already scheming for what to take from the kitchen.
The lights went out around midnight and their door closed and locked. I rolled my eyes in disgust. Then I tip-toed into the kitchen and slid open the pantry doors quietly. When all was quiet I started grabbing the stuff that was always in the same places. A box of cereal. Small bags of chips. Apples. Oranges. I looked at the bananas and kept stuffing, aware that the bananas will get squashed. I was muttering the song Bring Me to life by Evanesance. After I couldn’t find anything else to take I looked at my pack again. It was still half empty. I went to the fridge and eased it open. After I had grabbed a pack of meat, four water bottles, and a pack of cheese, I closed the door and went to the bread. I took the brand new loaf of sourdough and the last two cinnamon buns. At last my pack was almost full. I stuffed the last of it with my mom’s bag of “emergency” M & M’s. There. I was ready.
I went up the stairs and to the game room window. Popping the screen out quietly was hard, but in the end I just busted through the screen. Already knowing I was going to get hurt, I slid down the roof and to the edge. It wasn’t that far down. I jumped and landed with my knees bent, so I fell backwards. But other than some bruises, I would be fine. I got up and started walking, away from that house, away from hell. I took the box and went to the backyard shed. After digging through the wall of junk, I put the box at the back and put other boxes on top of it. I wouldn’t be back for it. I closed the door and walked away.
A few hours later I found the woods with the mini cliff in the middle of them. I took out my knife and started into them, slicing down vines and stomping on bushes. After thirty minutes of endless walking and an encounter with a possum, I met the brook. And my mini cliff. I sat on the edge of it and started taking food out of my pack. They never gave me what I wanted. So I took what I wanted. And started to pig out. I ate as fast as I could, saving the sweet stuff for last. My stomach started to bloat, but I kept eating. I finally stopped. My stomach at its bursting point. I had eaten so much that it started to hurt. I dumped the scraps and leftovers down the edge and took out my rope. It was time. The moon was in the middle of the sky and it was a crescent. How fitting. I tied the knot the way our camp instructors told us to, in a noose, and I tied the other end of it on the tree by the edge. I pulled out my mirror and my black eyeliner, and started to draw around my eyes to make it look like I was crying. I slipped the noose around my neck slowly and tightened it. The edge didn’t look so scary now. Just… there. I stepped over it. As I did, a song ran through my mind. It was Possibility by Lyye Li. Everything after that felt like slow motion. I stepped from the edge and fell, but the fall was so long. And the song kept playing through my mind I felt the rope jerk tighten against my throat. My hands instinctively went up, and I felt the lump of Sam in my shirt pocket. I hung there, my legs kicking without me realizing it. I just sat there. And at some point I died. It wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be. Just… slow. And quiet.
I was finally free.
Gone
Walking to the bus stop was a drag. It was freezing cold. And it was long. I had just arrived there alone when other people started to show up, their shoes dragging and there skinny jeans squeezing the life out the girl’s and the guys leg’s. I shuddered and looked at my shorts. I was used to the cold. It never bothered me. Florida had never gotten this cold, and we all laughed when one of the kids showed up in a big coat and baggy jeans. I sat on one of the electric boxes and waited for the bus to come. After I had slipped on my headphones and was blasting out my eardrums with metal, one of the guys came over and slid onto the box with me. He was tall, had long hair, and was tan and muscular. I scowled and moved over more. He threw his arm over my shoulder. Despite myself I blushed and I shook his arm off roughly. He growled and put it back on. The bus rounded the corner at full speed that moment, and I breathed a sigh of relief. As I climbed the steps the bus driver looked at me. She was new. This was the third one this month. She had a flawless face and a small body, with long blond hair. I gawked at her as she whisked the small pass out of my hand and glanced at it.</font>“Moring Jennifer. You got the front seat. Congrats.” Despite the boredom in her voice she gave a warm smile and pointed to the first seat in the opposite isle of her. I slumped into it and threw my pack on the floor and pulled out my iPod. As I started to slip on the bulky headphones again, she confronted the guy that was on the box with me.
“William.” She read off the paper. “You also have the first seat here with Jennifer. Good luck.”
She gestured again and went on to the next student. William slid into the seat, trying to display some grace, but tripped over my bag. I snickered and picked it up, dropping it on my other side. He slid as close as possible to me and slinked his arm around my waist. I shuddered but sat there, secretly liking the way it felt. I felt his hand reach slightly down past my panty line and I gasped, grasped his hand and shoved him away. He muttered something and looked away. All of a sudden his hand shot out and gripped my a*s tightly. I screamed and jerked up. The bus driver turned around and shouted at William, letting go of the wheel. The bus swerved. Then all time slowed down. I was flipped, slowly, onto William’s lap, then onto the floor. The bus rolled over and I was on top, falling to the roof. I felt a sharp pain in stomach, then on my left leg and then, finally, my chest. The window had broken, and three huge, jagged shards had pierced my stomach, my chest, and my left calf. I gasped quietly as I fell. The bus finally swerved and hit a tree. I landed on the roof, on my back. Blood spurted up like a geyser, falling on my face and onto William, who was sprawled out in the seat, not a scratch on him. His knuckles were white from gripping the seat so tightly. My pale face was now draining of the color it had left, and the shard in my leg was pierced through the other side. I heard someone shout, and then more shouting as people had noticed what had happened to me. My vision clouded, and then faded to black. All of a sudden I was floating. That’s what it felt like. I knew what was happening to me. I was dying. I opened my eyes for one last moment and looked at the bus driver’s face, who was right above me. I raised my hand weakly and she stared at it as if it were a ghost. I pointed at William and gulped for air. My chest gave one big heave before I completely blacked out.
There was shouting. I was moving, my hands swinging on the side of whatever I was on. Then I slid out of consciousness again. I had stopped breathing at some point. I don’t think people had noticed until they saw that my chest had stopped moving. I was already dead. More than that, I could see everyone. I knew I was dead at that point. I was floating above my body, and it was terrifying. I saw the shard that had pierced my chest and the one in my stomach already taken out. It was huge. I saw William sitting in the waiting room, talking to the police officers. I knew he wouldn’t tell them. He excused himself to go to the bathroom, and I grabbed the shard from the table and, surprisingly, it stayed in my hand. I think it turned transparent with me as I made my way into the bathroom. I slid through the door and into his stall, where he wasn’t peeing, but crying. I willed him to see me, but nothing happened. I whispered into his ear.
“William…”
He jerked his head up and looked around confused. I grabbed his hair and yanked back, relishing in the look of pure terror on his face. He screamed and squirmed to try and get out of my grasp. But I held on as position the shard right above his throat, my blood still dripping off of it. He screamed again and started sobbing and begging to let go. But he didn’t know it was me. So I whispered in his ear.
“You didn’t tell the cops did you?”
He shook with fear, but answered. “Jennifer?”
“Maybe. Did you tell the cops? What you did to make this al happen? I’m dead, William. All because of you.”
He sobbed and begged again, but I wouldn’t listen. I pushed the glass into his throat slowly, listening to the sound it made, and watching the blood that poured down his neck. His screams became struggled and silenced as his blood mingled with mine and flowed into his open throat. I took it out and watched him heave for breath. I plunged it into his rib cage and into his lung. Then leaving it there, I left the bathroom and wandered back to my body. They were still trying to revive me, but I felt nothing. No tug. No urge to go back. So I just. Left. I disappeared. Away from this world.
And I never came back
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