Tuesday, February 26, 2008

maybe.

Its funny I should start it here. Beginning with my ending. I didn’t realize where I was going. I just started walking. Before I knew it, I was climbing over the railing. This is where I was conceived. This is also where my father died. And now, this is where I will die. Suicide may be a weak decision, but I never claimed to be strong. Really, I just have nothing better to do. I’m done taking care of my mom, sitting, no, living on the couch as if it were some sort of abyss, staring into the TV barely paying attention. Too busy being drunk. She just can’t handle life. Maybe she should be the one standing here. Much easier than drinking your life away. Quicker too. But she’s rather just rot away, I guess. Literally. From the inside-out. She’s pretty dead inside from what I can tell. I haven’t seen her smile in two years. Maybe longer. Not since my dad lost his job, got high, and decided to drive off this bridge. Doesn’t she understand that it was hard for me too? I was fourteen. I knew damn well what was going on. But does she notice? Of course not. She’s too busy wallowing in her own self-pity and relying on other people to take care of her. What a pathetic existence.
Now I’m crying. I don’t even know why. For my dad? My mom? Because it’s finally over? Who knows…it’s dark. All I can see are the stars and the moon shining on the river beneath me. Glistening. As if it were smiling at me; welcoming my fall. And now I’m smiling back. 1,2,3,4...I start to count…I’m about to jump when suddenly I am being grabbed from behind and pulled over the railing. Now I’m sitting on the ground and whoever it was has their arms around me. I turn around to see who it is and I am amazed at what I see. A girl. She has purple hair and it’s very long. She’s wearing all black. Her eyes are blue and seem to be glowing in the moonlight. She’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. She’s smiling. I ask her what she’s doing.
Making a sandwich. What the fuck does it look like I’m doing? I’m saving your life.
You don’t even know me. Who are you to be “saving” me? I don’t need “saving”.
Obviously you do. You were standing on the edge of a bridge and you were about to jump. I’m pretty sure that that’s the perfect scenario of someone needing saving. Physically or otherwise. Why were you even on there? Your life can’t be that bad…
That’s none of your business, and you don’t know what you’re talking about.
Come with me.
She grabs my hand and stands, pulling me up with her. She starts running, my hand still in hers. I don’t know where were going and I can barely even see. I realize that I still don’t know who the hell this girl is. So I ask. I get no reply. Millions of thoughts race through my mind as we race through the grass. I still have no idea where we are going, or why, why she had just started running, and dragging me along with her. Were we even going anywhere? For some reason I don’t care. Nothing matters. Because for the first time, that empty hole that I have been feeling for the majority of my life, is gone. She has filled it. I have to get to know this girl. I’m falling in love with her and I don’t even know her name. But it doesn’t really matter does it? What’s in a name? My name is Billy. But the name doesn’t really fit. At least I don’t think so. Even so, I ask her again.
What’s your name?
Maybe.
Maybe what?
That’s my name.
Your name is Maybe?
Maybe. Does it matter?
Does anything?
Exactly.
And that’s how it all started. Billy and Maybe. We finally reach where we were going. Or at least, that’s what I presume. Were under the bridge. Strange to think that right about now, had she not, quite literally stumbled into my life, my lifeless body would be lying somewhere to the left of us.
There’s a crowd of people here. Mostly teenagers from what I can tell. Some as young as fourteen. But some as old as thirty. Do they all live here? I don’t know. I’m handed a beer. Someone asks me my name. I tell them.
Hey Billy. My names Jack. How do you know Maybe?
Long story.
It’s actually not a long story but it’s also none of his business and I’m kind of in shock of the situation and therefore not really in much of a sharing mood. I am however glad that he is and happily chug my beer. Realizing that I am “one of them”, just a hopeless kid with no apparent direction to be found, just trying to get fucked up so that maybe they can feel some sort of wholeness, more beers and more introductions are given to me. Their names are a blur, as well as their faces. The only person I can think about right now is Maybe. And for some reason Jack. I’ll soon find out that becoming his friend will prove to be a mistake, but now is not the time to get into that. Now is the time to get wasted. Though I’m pretty sure I have well accomplished that. Numbing myself with illegal substances now seems a lot more filling, and much more practical, than jumping off a bridge.
My, now very drunk and hazy-minded self, ventures off in search of Maybe. I find her doing lines off of a rock. We start to talk. What I said, I may never know, but it must have been good because I have sex with her that night.
I think I may have told her that I loved her. I don’t think she remembers in the morning. Or at least, she doesn’t mention it.
Pills are handed out. I don’t know what they are. I try to ask Maybe, but she hushes me and tells me to just take them.
So I do.
About half and hour or so passes by. By this time I have completely forgotten about taking the pills. I begin to recall doing so as I also begin to start feeling very, very good. Better than I have ever felt in my life. It feels as though every bad feeling I have ever felt, was just a joke and they’re all being burned away and I stand there looking at the flames, laughing.
I feel an overall sense of calm. As if, nothing could ever possibly go wrong. This very moment is when I realize that I have finally found my home.
These people, these drugs, this life!
They make me feel whole.
And I don’t ever want to leave.
They tell me I can stay as long as I want or need. To earn my keep, I go with them on what they call “missions”. We go through people’s garbage. We steal. We sell anything that is worth anything. And we buy lots and lots of drugs. Everything you can imagine. It seems everyone has their own DOC. Their Drug Of Choice. Funny it should spell DOC. These drugs do seem to work like a doctor. Like a doctor for the soul. Those pills I took turn out to be ecstasy. “Green Dragonflies” they say. I guess, for now anyway, X is my DOC.
Maybe says that hers is coke.
Jack prefers speed.
The rest of the people fill in everything else.
The young ones mostly stick to weed. Maybe a little X.
The older ones like crack.
Some like H.
Almost everyone does coke.
One night I finally try it. It makes ecstasy seem stupid, its so amazing. Though the high is short, it’s well worth it. I feel SO good. So whole. It’s fucking incredible. Words cannot describe the sensation that I feel. Cocaine becomes my new DOC. Soon, I’m using everyday.
These drugs, they make everything better. Their like little insects, that crawl into your head. They feed off your misery and then give you everything you want. They tell you everything you want to hear. But when their gone…well…that’s when it’s bad. Because that’s when you know how deep down the hole you’ve really fallen.
And you feel like dying.
That’s where Maybe comes in. She’s my real DOC. I love her. I’ve never been in love before this and I’m not sure how to explain how it feels. I just feel this intense connection to her. Like we’ve known each other all our lives. Like we were meant to know each other. I can tell her anything. We stay up late most nights just talking nonsense. Speaking our drug-fueled minds. One night, during one of the dry periods where were both too sober for comfort, just holding each other to help ease the pain, I tell her. And I know this may sound stupid…
And I know its all cliché, like something right out of the movies that makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world. She said she loves me too. That she’d felt this way for a while now, but she’d never felt this way before and was scared to tell me. Scared that she would chase me away.
Now, I don’t know if what she’s saying is true. If she really does love me or not. But right now it doesn’t matter. I can believe her. At least for this moment. I am in love. And all that is important right now is her. No, us.
***
It’s been a month since I’ve been home. A month since I wanted to kill myself. A month since I met Maybe. I’m standing in the sand area of the bridge; the part that goes to the water. Like a beach. I’m not really doing anything…just zoning out.
Jack comes for me. He says we have a “mission” to do. We start walking to the bus station. We get on a bus.
Were going to a “buddy” of mines house.
He raises his eyebrows at the word “buddy”.
His name is Chris and he owes me a good amount of money. Don’t worry about anything. I’m taking care of it. All you’ve got to do is sit, smile, and have a good time.
Turns out that Chris is the main weed dealer in the town we were on our way to. Jack had fronted a roll of twenty pills of X, and Chris had promised to pay him the $150 for it after he had sold all the pills. He was trying to get into selling X as well as weed. He bought such a small amount, I guess, because he just wanted to see if anyone would even buy any first. What I don’t get is why it had been fronted. If he was such a big dealer, surely he would have the $150. But I don’t want to ask. Anyway, apparently, its been two weeks and Jack has tried calling Chris to see if he’s sold them yet. Since there was only twenty pills, selling them should have been easy. But Chris has been ignoring his phone calls and Jack, being the impatient person he is, is tired of Chris “playing games” and sees the need to go all the way to his house to “have a talk”. I’m not sure what he means by that, but I figure it probably isn’t good.
We arrive at his house. Chris seems surprised to see us. Jack tells him that he needs his money and to “stop playing games”. Chris says he doesn’t know anything about “games”, but he has Jack’s money and he had been planning on calling him as soon as he got his phone back from his girlfriend. Jack doesn’t look pleased, but we go inside anyway. Chris offers us beer and we all smoke a couple bowls together. Then, him and Chris go into Chris’s room to “handle business”. I stay in the living room, working on beer number four. When they come out, Jack announces that he will return in a little while, that he has to make a few phone calls. I am to stay here. Chris seems like a pretty cool guy, I’m a bit stoned, and kind of buzzed, so I don’t mind staying.
Its been over half and hour now, and Jack still isn’t back. I’m definitely drunk now. I’ve lost count of how many beers I’ve had. I know its at least eight. There’s a very loud banging sound. I can hear someone yelling but I cant make out what they’re saying.
It’s the police.
I’m now being dragged out of the house and thrown into the police car. There are police dogs everywhere and as we pull away from the house, I see them pulling Chris out of the house as well. I don’t even care. All I can think about is Maybe, and if I’m ever going to see her again.
***
I’m at home. Not my real home under the bridge with maybe, but my old home, with my mom. All I was charged with was “Minor In Possession”. when the police came in, I had been holding a beer. Luckily they believed me when I told them that I had just met Chris that day, and was unaware of his drug trafficking. I spent the weekend in jail and I have to pay a fine. And my mom is guarding the door so I don’t leave. Like that’s going to work. I try calling Jack. He’s the only one in the group with a cell phone.
Hello?
Jack. Its me. Billy. What happened? The cops showed up at Chris’s and we got arrested.
Yeah, sorry about that. Just killing two birds with one stone.
What are you talking about?
Well, I got back at Chris, and I got rid of you.
You called the cops?
Yup.
Why the hell did you do that? And what do you mean you “got rid of” me?
I told Maybe that you didn’t love her anymore. That you said that everything you had ever told her was a lie and that you had decided to leave.
Why?
*Click*
He hung up on me.
I climb out my window and run all the way to the bridge. I don’t see anyone. They must all be on a “mission”, or at a party. But then I hear something.
Hello?
Billy?
Maybe? Is that you?
She is laying near the bushes. She looks pale and she’s crying.
What are you doing here? I thought you left.
No. Jack got me arrested.
He said you hated me.
I don’t hate you. I love you.
She starts to cry more.
What’s wrong?
I took…I took…
She’s not moving.
Maybe? Maybe, wake up!
I pick her up and carry her up to the street.
Someone stops and asks if I need any help.
I tell them that I just found her under the bridge and she needs to get to a hospital. They drive us.
I’m crying and beg Maybe not to die.
Don’t die Maybe. Don’t die.
We run into the hospital and a doctor comes and puts her on one of those beds and wheels her off.
My heart is beating fast and I can barely speak.
The guy that drove us tells the nurse that I found her passed out and we don’t know what’s wrong.
The man leaves and I stay in the waiting room.
About ten minutes later the doctor comes out.
He asks me if there is any family.
I lie, and say that I’m her family.
I’m sorry but, she didn’t make it.
What?
I’m very sorry.
How?
Were not sure yet, but we believe it was an overdose. There was nothing we could do.
I run past them into the room. They’re pulling a sheet over her and pushing her bed out of the room.
I run to her body and uncover the sheet. Even in death, she is still the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach by an elephant. The wind has been knocked out of me. The doctors pull me away. I take the bus to my house. I go into my mothers room; into her drawer; into the box she keeps my fathers things in. I take out his knife, and I run back to the bridge. This time someone is here.
Jack. Just who I wanted to see.
Jack turns around.
What are you doing here?
Maybe’s dead.
Liar.
She killed herself, and its all your fault.
I take the knife from my pocket and before I know it there is blood everywhere and beneath me is Jack. Dead.
I throw the knife into the river and make my way to the street.
***
Its funny I should end it here. Ending with my beginning. I don’t know where I’m going. I just start walking. Before I know it I’m in another town, with other people, other drugs, and other mistakes to make. Running away may be a weak decision, but like I said, I never claimed to be strong. Its times like this when you wish that you could just wake up suddenly; the last few years of your life, just a dream.
I’m crying again. For what? For Maybe? For myself? Because its finally over? Who knows? Its dark. All I can see is the moon.
I close my eyes and think of her. I think of her and her purple hair and her deep blue eyes and how they seemed to glow in the moonlight. I tell her I love her. And I tell her I’m sorry. And I tell her goodbye.
And I let go.