April Fools

A Story by Zelda Morgan

"Mad World" by Gary Jules goes well with it

April 1st

Dear diary, today was a good day. The Sun was making itself known, as it usually does in the springtime. I don't ever say this, so people never think that it's what I'm feeling, but the truth is, I always thought of The Sun as a friend of mine. When if lifts up, it's like it's saying hello. Hang in there buddy. I woke up. So shall you. I would be so happy if I could just go up there, to meet him, to pay him a visit. I would lift my hand up to shake his, but before he could even reach me, his warmth would turn me into a black skeleton, and an instant later, into just nothing. It would be beautiful. So clean. So pure. No messy scraping me of some concrete pavement, no stupid dark clothing and grey stones and grim words. No ground. Just sky. The common mistake is someone thinking I want to be dead. I never wanted to be dead. No. Not dead. Just gone. Can’t you feel the not so subtle difference?

My parents thought that it would make a difference if I went to school today, even though I haven’t been there the entire March, so I went to school today. Didn’t mind. It was nice. I don’t always seem crazy about it, I know, but the truth is, it isn’t half as bad as I make it look. What am I saying, it’s wonderful. Lovely, lovely place. It combines energies of people, the students and the teachers, into an energy of its own. That’s always spectacular, when a bunch of little somethings stand together to make a big something. It fascinates me. Crowds are terribly underestimated. The laughter plus the little talks plus the big talks equals a symphony of cacophony that you can find extremely soothing, if you just put it in your head the right way. Also, I noticed that crowds tend to be very sensitive to the weather, or, more precisely, the time of the year. They move more slowly when it’s really hot, like July, or really cold, like December. March is when they awake from the winter slumber, like they’re all one big bear together. May is when their collective smile starts to get a bit calmer, more carefree, almost summery. But April is when the restlessness reigns. That’s when they turn from bugs to flies. I wonder if another fly like me imagines how fun it would be to just sneak a knife into the school halls, get someone’s fingerprints on it, I don’t know how yet but I’m resourceful, I’d figure it out, stab myself in the middle of the crowd when everyone is watching something else, drop dead like I’ve been hit by one of those fly-killing devices my grandpa loves a bit too much, and meet my end. It would have to be one of those extra powerful knives, the kind you see on the Internet and think whoa, that’s an extra powerful knife. And then the poor guy, or girl, whose fingerprints are on there, would be considered a suspect. I’d make sure they are nearby during my little performance. Hopefully, the whole ghost thing is a sham and I wouldn’t be there to see it go down.

After school I went downtown to see a movie. It was just me. That’s fine, better than fine, it’s the best way. I wouldn’t have it any other, really. Movies are great if you don’t take them seriously. And I don’t take anything seriously these days, so that works. It was a comedy. Funny. You know, I always thought that I had it in me. Comedy, I mean. That I have that flare, what it takes to turn reality around, to play with it a little bit, and make someone’s day. I might make a movie of my own sometime. It would start a little artsy, with some random images of me waiting under the big oak for hours, or blowing candles on a birthday cake on an empty table, or slightly opening the closet door, the closet where the monsters are, where I am as well, because monsters are my friends. Then the present me would show up. I would be filming myself from somewhere far away, where nobody knows me or thinks to disturb. From that safe place, a closet of a sort, I would give everyone a warm welcome. I would tell them all about everything, in a funny way, of course, and they would listen, in any way they wish. Then I would pull a stunt. Something crazy, acrobatic, dramatic. Funny. Like in “Ridiculousness”. Except I wouldn’t get up.

I got up from my seat, feeling the ever so slight laugher-stomachache. I had two more hours until my today’s appointment with Doctor Rogers, who is reading this now, hi Doctor Rogers, so I decided to take a walk. I went to all my favorite places. I walked by trees in blossom and wondered how I would look blossoming from its branches, hanging in the lazy wind. I walked by the cutest little puppy and wondered if he would like the way I tasted. I saw more happiness than I could ever process and wondered how all these April fools would like a free vacation inside my head. They see all these things, like swings in the park and helium balloons and song lyrics carved in benches, and trees in blossom and puppies, and it makes their days. They don’t see the other side. Fools. Blind men and women. Maybe they chose their blindfold. Probably decided on a stylish color too. They had a choice. I don’t blame them. But I deserve the right to call them fools. You are one too, you know. You thought the winter was over. Thought you chased it away. You convinced yourself you saw flowers growing around my head. A true April fool. Doctor April Fool. It could be an actual name. You would get teased a bit, but then again, it’s not hard to get teased with a normal name.

I feel like I’m forgetting something. Yep, sure am. Oh, that’s right. I should probably mention those blossoms again. Though they are truly wonderful according to your eyes, the tongue would strongly disagree. They happen to be very poisonous. Most people don’t know that, but I did my homework. Thank you, Internet. They were actually the most common murder tool in the Roman Empire, can you believe it? Anyways, I found an excellent recipe. At least nobody ever complained. That was a joke. I know you laughed for a second. Told you I had a few comedy bones in my body. My little potion should do its job in about three hours, one hour after I have left your office. I sounded good today, didn’t I? I sounded happy. You were proud. Sorry about that. It brings me no pleasure to deceive you. Well, maybe just a little bit. Cut me some slack, it is April 1^st, international prank day. Don’t reach for the phone, it’s too late. I made sure I found a great hiding spot because I know you read this diary as soon as I’m out the door, you nosy thing, you. When you first told me I should write a diary that you would legally read, I thought it was dumb. I still do. But you did try. So thank you, truly. I wish you could see your face right now. I wish I could have stuck around to see it. I bet it’s so funny.

© 2016 Zelda Morgan

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Coyote Poetry

I liked this story and thoughts shared. The flow of thoughts allowed the reader to fall into real life and places. You did a amazing job with the description. Make each come alive to the reader. Thank you Zelda for sharing the excellent story.
Coyote