So Bizarre

So Bizarre

 “Hello fellow horseman of the apocalypse!” he called, a sort of cynical maniacal glee in his eyes.  The darkness of many years being a chaos-bound dysfunctional family neatly combed away, a sort of crazy caffeine high pumped in Xiro’s pale flesh.   

                “You’re so strange, Xiro,” Jared said.  “Put the notebook away, we’re going out tonight.”

                “What the f**k, just because you’re all science and graduated from Brown doesn’t give you the right to dictate the way us mere mortals live,” Xiro said.

                “Hey, you’re a writer, I understand.  Lighten up a little, bro,” Jared said.  You have to write every day.  Every day, or your words become the blanch, not quite white anymore color of the couch Jared sat in.  Your world became Xiro’s hand, his pale bony fingers as they crushed the not quite half empty Pepsi bottle and the chestnut brown liquid as it drenched Xiro’s fingers and settled on the couch just missing Jared’s lap.  A nice new stain for the old decrepit thing.

                Xiro shook his head, scoffing.  “Whatever,” he said, but he was smiling. 

 

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                “Smile for the camera!” 

                Jessica stretched her lips as wide as she could.  She could barely feel her mouth.

                “Now look this way!” Click.  Click.  The camera went off.  What happened to going to business school, plowing through the world of Men and taking over? 

                Click.  Click.  In the room backstage, changing into the black Chanelle dress. Dark black mascara coating her eyes.  Smile into the looking-glass.  Click.

                Remember the days bickering with Jared and Xiro.  Jared fading into the background and Xiro, six years younger than Jared but only four years younger than Jessica, playfully punching Jessica.  Jessica teasing back.

                Days of not talking to each other.  Fits of rage.  All part of the game.  Hysterical play.  Remember those days?  Do you?  Not quite anymore.

                Smile for the camera.  Jessica did, her wavy blond hair falling over her left eye, the wind tugging on the back of her dress. 

 

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                Not quite like Lana Lang.  His hair was hair was dark black now, with crazy colors in between.  Neon green is his favorite, wild white and neon green bangs falling to his nose diagonally across her forehead, the rest of his  hair a spiky pitch black buzz cut.  Not quite Kryptonian, still somewhat enamored by fanfiction, wandering through the world alone.  The streets at night, his nose curled in a book, scribbling down phrases.  Black combat boots pounding against the cracked pavement, running faster and faster. 

                Not your ordinary evening jogs, but combat boots served the function of ankle weights quite well, Zypherro thought.   Not that any ordinary boy went for a run at midnight, underneath a pale silver moon and the black, black sky.

                “Well, well, well.  Such a pretty little thing all by herself at this time at night!” a voice jeered.  Zypherro spun around, dropping his little book of poetry on the ground.  It still happened, even now and then.  They thought he was a girl. The poetry book landed with a cold, richochetting SPLAT.  Well, well, well.  Blond haired man with a sneer on his lips, thinking he’s all that.  Well newsflash.  Zypherro’s fighting skills aren’t exactly little.

                Zypherro felt a smile tugging on his lips as the man tried to grab him.  Yeah right, Zyphero scoffed, lashing out with his fist.  Strike to the kidneys. Gouge out his eyes.  He was having a little fun with this.  Smile smile smile.

                He kicked him in the ribs with the blade edge of his booted foot.  Jab to the left eye.  Not going for the groin just to prove he doesn’t have to.

                Blond haired pyscho, would-be rapist isn’t backing down; he pulls out a shiny silver knife.  Even better!  Zypherro grins. 

                “See the scars up and down my arms, psycho??” he said, extending his arms in a punch with the under-side of his arms on top.  Pink and white raised keloid scars clear for blond haired man to see.  Self-inflicted scars, hell yeah.  Not that he does that anymore (well, not that often), but the psycho with the knife doesn’t know that.

                “Knives don’t scare me,” Zypherra scoffed, breaking the wrist that held the knife.  Grabbing the knife.  Waving it at psycho man with a crazy smile on his face.  Taking him down with the first take-down he ever used - offbalance him and sweep his legs out from under him. His knee on his bruised ribs, he brings the knife to his arm.  Let him see the pretty red blood he wanted to see.  “Knives are my friend,” hhe said, with her very own sneer. 

                He leans in real close, grinding his hard knuckles into his face.  He enjoys his whimpers of pain.  The first thing he ever learned is never show pain.  And liking pain is his very own advantage, anyways. 

He whispers into his ear, soft and menacingly, letting drops of crimson blood fall on the man's forehead.  “Next time you or any of your friends come near me, I’ll be cutting you.” 

                Zypherro licks his lips.  Punches him in the temple until he’s sure he’s unconscious. "And by the way," he said.  In the most menacing voice possible.  "I. am. not. a. girl."

                Takes the shiny little knife and gets the hell out of there.  Fun, fun.  Fun night.

 

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                The music crowds the air.  Xiro and Jared are jumping up and down. 

                “I told you you’d like it here!” Jared says.

                “What?  It’s too loud in here, I can’t hear you,” Xiro says.

                “I said, I told you you’d like it here!” Jared says.

                Jumping up and down.  Pounding to the rhythm of the music.  Xiro’s feet pounding on the floor; the floor transforms into the drumset sitting neglected in the apartment the two brothers share.

                The place smells yank and it’s overcrowded but Xiro and Jared are in their own world, back to the time before.  In their own world, the wackiness of life pounding into their eardrums.

                Xiro’s feet are heavy as he dances.  He bumps into a girl with short brown hair that looks a lot like Zyph.  He barely knows her...him... now, he got the hell out of (away from...?) the dysfunctional family.  Suppose Jessica did too, in her own funny way. 

                He knew this would happen.  Everything falls apart.  Even families. 

                It’s not Zyph.  Zyph would never go to a place like this; he’s so against the world.  That’s what Xiro figures from the few time he came home back before the rents split up and degenerated to their own brand of despair induced decay and death.

                No, Zyph is the boy with tattoos, a hardened, cynical mind and that death glare.  Zyph, his sis..brother.  Xiro’s brother.  Xiro's brother who sat reading his books ignoring everyone.  Making a scene when in the grocery store and not even caring.

                ‘You’re not that different from him,’ a dark voice inside his head taunted him.  He chose to ignore it.  Fell into the rhythm of Jared’s steps.  This is Now.  There’s no going back.  You don’t have to be a scientist to know that.

 

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“What are you doing, Jessica?” her manager asked.  Faceless robot on the wall.  ‘I am the Fly Squatter.’

                Faded jeans and a white tank top.  Blank face with a genuine smile.  ‘I am the one who killed the cat.  Well, the cats ran away, but I suppose they must have run away because of how much I annoyed them,’ Jessica thought.  Well, so much for growing up to be that old crazy cat lady.  So much for that. 

                “Exactly what it looks like,” Jessica said.  “I’m quitting.”

                “But you’re perfect!  No one else can wear the dresses quite like you can.”

                Jessica scoffed.  Yeah right.  Her manager, Alice, stands tall.  A robot with pearl shaped eyes dances in front of Jessica.  Jumping up and down and screaming.  Living, breathing mannequins as anorexic as her sister once was years and years ago walk down strutting their stuff outside of the curtain.  Not that they have much to offer.  Just a blank slate of robotic stares.  Jessica’s done with it.

                “I wasn’t born to be a model, Alice,” Jessica said, smiling sadly.  She truly likes Alice .  Alice is a happy person.  Her red hair is truly lovely and Jessica can tell Alice really likes what she’s doing.  But if what you do doesn’t make you happy then why even bother?

                “But….” Alice protested.

                “I’m sorry, Alice,” Jessica said.  “I truly enjoyed my time here, I really did….”  Jessica paused.  “But I’m done pretending.  I have to go back.”

                “Go back where?”

                “It doesn’t matter, Alice.  I have to find out.  Find out where I need to go back to.  So I can remember who I really am,” Jessica said.  Jessica paused for a moment, one eye raised towards the ceiling.  She twirled her pen in her fingers by her mouth.

                “Housing robots really doesn’t suit you, Alice,” Jessica finally says. 

                “What are you saying?”

                Jessica smiles. 

                “Figure it out.”

                She’ll miss Alice like hell, but she walks right out of that golden cage and doesn’t look back. 

 

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Zypherro sits in his empty apartment.  Thinks of calling Jessica to see how she’s doing but decides the three of them already hate himenough.  One more day doesn’t change anything, it’s all the same.

They still don't see him.  They see her.  And he is the ghost, silently walking by.  But there are more than enough people, in this place.  Lots of people.  He'll prove them wrong, just because they refuse to accept him doesn't mean he'll be alone.  The world isn't quite as cruel as they make it out to be.  Not when you're a vegetarian anarchist, at least.

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                “You alright, Jess?”  Xiro asks over the phone.

                “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

                “Well, you quit your job,” Xiro suggests.

                “Yeah, about that.  I think I’m going to go to Mongolia.  Or Tibet.  Someplace like that.  Let it change me.  Who knows what will happen.  I’m going to forget everything I am and let the pulse of the lostness in the city grind into me.  Let it take me in whatever direction it chooses,” Jessica says.

                “I don’t know about that, Jess…”

                “What are you talking about?  You don’t even know me  anymore.  Hell, I don’t even know me.  This is what I need,” Jessica says.

                “If you say so,” Xiro says, but even through the phone Jessica can feel him grinning.

                “I do say so,” Jessica says, and that’s the end of it.

 

                Let the pulse of the lostness of the city change you.  That’s what I did, too, I guess, Xiro thinks.  He had been reading when Jessica called; Jared was asleep.  All sorts of bizarre things happened to him while he was sleeping.  Things the world will never know.

 

                From the other side of the world, Zyph is grinning.  “Yeah. Me too,” he said.  And somehow all four of them hear each other.  All sorts of crazy things can happen when you’re sleeping.

 

                “Yeah,” Jared grins from his bicycle.  Wait, I thought you were sleeping?  He’s riding his bicycle.  “Yeah, this would happen,” he thinks.

 

                And it’s so bizarre.  And you can’t help but grin, because you wouldn’t have it any other way.