Pronoun Play

 The Narrator says...

A mess of a young thing approaches the stage. Red hair, everywhere --cropped at the neck and pointing every direction. They walk timidly to the center of a small, ragged stage as a single spot (could-be flashlight) lights a microphone stand. The microphone sitting atop is snatched with a noisy fumbling, as a pair of shaded eyes emerge from uneven, crimson hair. The voice that is projected is surprisingly clear and cheerful, and captures the crowd with a wild sense of mystery. A full band is slowly lit to life behind them, reverent and waiting. Anything is about to happen.

Myrtle says...

It's really rad of you all to be here. I got tired of those old bitties hiding me in the closet all the time, so you know, here I am. I figure I'll introduce myself with a quick little number we put together.  It was sort of last minute, so please, don't take it out on the band! We are all just doing the damn thing.

One... Two.... A one two three YEAH...

Myrtle is…

15… or 16… 17, if you’re cute and stupid

Spit out your best line, killer

A classy punk

She writes his lyrics in cursive

RED HAIR!!!

EVERYWHERE!!!

RED HAIR!!!

EVERYWHERE!!!

Headbanging with his eyes closed

Her world spins like disco

He’ll look you in the eyes to tell you you’re trash

Her number one hero

Not wasting any time

You really must insist

She’s not the greatest that ever was

Or he who is to be

They are simply free

With no warranty

She comes as is!

He can't be returned

RED HAIR!

EVERYWHERE!!!

Fuck you

Myrtle is.

No Vacancy

The Narrator says...


He wrote her to say he'd been thinking about her.

She had been thinking about him too. For months she had been stewing over the very idea of him, playing images of him over and over again in her head, trying to figure out what part about him she'd come to hate so much. The mental reel made her feel sick to her stomach sometimes. The kind of anxious stomach ache a middle-schooler gets each morning before they face those long hallways. Why was she so angry at him? She repeated the question to herself several hundred times a day, and each time she got the same answer... "I don't know."

And now, he wanted to talk about it.

The coffee shop was the the same way they'd left it, but she felt odd and out of place there now, sitting across from him in broad daylight, surrounded by witnesses. She felt guilty the moment she sat down and immediately wished she had chosen someplace else to meet. Somewhere with less familiar faces and darker corners to hide in.

He was quiet and awkward, staring at her, waiting for her to start the conversation, as usual.  The steam from the coffee in front of him billowed around his body, seemingly foreboding of some explosion that was about to emerge from his silence. Always a catalyst seeking the right chemical to ignite some inspirational molecule within him. He can never fucking finish what he starts, she thought to herself. He abruptly sat back in his chair and looked away, as if he'd suddenly been smacked across the face. She had never really noticed the way his chin disappeared when he turned to the side, until now.

He looked down at his lap, "How have you been?" he asked, because he didn't know what else to say.

Should I give him the long or short answer to that, she wondered. She quickly decided she didn't really want to answer the question at all, and said, "I've been fine. Busy and trying to keep myself out of trouble." She let dissatisfaction settle into the lines on his face before asking, " You?"

"Same," he said nonchalantly, as if to leave the word dangling in the air above her like bait.  Thus, concluding their small talk.

"I don't think we can be friends anymore."  She said it without provocation. The elephant that had been standing politely in the corner was now sitting on top of the table between them, obstructing their view of one another.  And it wasn't moving.

"Why?" he asked.  His tone hinted that he already knew the answer, the word rolled off his tongue like the car on a roller coaster.  It was on a set track, that word could only end up in one place, screeching to a halt.

She was bombarded yet again with that perplexing question, only now she was face-to-face with it,  trying not to stare into grey eyes that were always a little sad. The pressure was on and it was time for her to own up to the feeling she didn't want to admit to.  This was it, the deep end. She probably couldn't come back from this. Just say it already, she thought desperately.

"Because you hurt me. And now, I want to hurt you back for it," she said as honestly as she knew how. The truth bit her and gnawed away at the lining of her stomach.

He swallowed hard and looked ready to throw up.

"And it would be so much easier if I didn't care about you," she continued, "because then I could  just proceed as usual with revenge. I could, ya know, be friends again, play nice as if nothing happened. Pretend things were chummy. Hate you underneath my breath while giving you bad advice," her eyes stared off now, she was looking in his direction, but it seemed like she couldn't see him anymore.  Not able to see into her eyes made him feel confused and lost in the conversation.

"Maybe I would even tease you. Seduce you, again. Charm you and make you feel like you're home. Fuck you, only to fuck with you later. I wake up craving it at night. Remembering the way your body felt between my legs with your head on my stomach, and what the curls of your hair felt like as I ran my fingers through them. That beautiful hair. You purring like some stupid housecat!" That last word seemed to snag in her throat.

Her voice got louder and her eyes started to well up with tears. He breathed hard at the sight of them. Was he remorseful for them, or angry at them?

She looked away from him, she was so ashamed of the truth. Through gritted teeth she said, "I dream about that night now. I dream I say something like 'I love you' and don't mean it. That I lie to you, willingly. And when I wake up, I still wish I could. Because I want you to feel betrayed, as I feel betrayed."

Her tears spilled down her cheeks. She bit her lip before taking a deep breath. She calmed down. Almost too calm, he thought. She stared down at her lap, and he stared at her till he couldn't anymore.  He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back with a sigh.

He heard her neck crack.

When he looked up at her again, she was staring directly at him, her eyes the grayish green color of the sea before a storm hits.  "I believed you always knew this about me, how predatory I am. I thought you loved me anyways, even loved me because of it sometimes. And that made me love you back. I never wanted to hurt you because I trusted you. Trusted you enough to be myself. I care about you, and I realize now how silly I've been for it. But, you were my friend."

The silence nailed that last word, friend, to the table. Like a permanent reminder. A mark that will never wash away.

"The truth is I am both good and bad. I am both, Louis. I am a creator, and a destroyer. A hunter and a protector. I was both then, I am both now. And so are you. In the end, you CHOSE to see only the enemy in me, and turned me away as such when I really needed my friend.  For whatever reasons, maybe you were upset with me about something and didn't have the balls to tell me, so it was easier to just write me off as some horrible mistake you'd made. I don't know, I still don't understand it. And I don't think I can forgive you for it."

He felt the end of the ride approaching. He was arriving at his destination. Soon, he would have to exit to his left, and go home.

"All I can do now is warn you, while I still care enough, to stay away from me. It hurts me too much to be around you, and you can't trust me because of it."  She was eerily calm, her tears drying on her cheeks as she said plainly, "You wanted to paint me as a villain in your life.  And it worked. Because that's all I want to be to you now."

She stood up from the table, she was really going to leave him there.  Her hair curled around the sides of her sunglasses as she slid them onto her nose. He realized it may be the last time he ever saw her eyes.

He held his breath. She held hers, and whispered.

"Goodbye."

When he exhaled, she was gone.

Communication

She has been living in harmony for some time now. All for one, and one for all.

And then, the fall.


The Narrator says...

It's raining outside. She can hear the rain on the sliding door.  It always rains on the sad days, she thinks.  The sound of the raindrops on the glass door fill her ears, and for a second she thinks of running outside to soak herself in it, like she did when she was little. But she knows it's not that simple anymore.

She looks up, and around the room frantically, looking for anyone who knows what to do.

" Please! What do I do?" The tears well up in her eyes, and she knows the great collapse is inevitable. "I will do whatever you tell me, please!"

Sparky sits on the couch, flipping through channels at a rapid pace. Casually, their eyes meet, and a smirk crawls across Sparky's lips. Or is it a grimace? (It can be almost impossible to tell the difference sometimes.) With a look of practiced innocence, Sparky shrugs her shoulders, and pouts, damming herself.

The guilt overwhelms her, and she begins to cry out, " Nina, please help me! Make this pain stop, give me something to look forward to!' She begs Nina with her eyes, hoping her stare will burn through the music blaring in Nina's headphones as she is crouched in the corner by the sliding door. Nina only continues to nod her head rhythmically, softly humming something that sounds like a Ray Manzarek tune, and doesn't look up. She wants to be where Nina is. She feels so left behind.

In a moment of pure desperation, she looks to Susie standing by the hallway. " Just tell me what to do and I'll do it! How do I fix this? How do I make it okay? I didn't mean for it to happen this way. Please, tell me how I make this okay!" The tears are running down her cheeks now, and there is no going back.

 Susie only scoffs and looks away in pure disgust, turns away and walks down the dark hallway. Out of sight.

Her cry is deafening. Her sobs invade every cell in her body, overtaking her. She falls to her knees, hoping she'll shatter. Hoping she'll break apart, painfully, but unsalvageably.

Searching for the sound of the rain to drown her out, she tries to hush herself enough to listen for it, but to no avail. Louder and louder, her sobs grow. With each heave of her chest, she releases a  wail unlike any she has ever heard. And lying at the very bottom of the sound, lurking down by her diaphragm, fueling each wind, is Persy. She just knows it.

"You are alone and you are dammed. And you did this to yourself," Persy sings, lining each desperate cry with it.

She screams, "No!" It reverberates against every wall and comes  barreling right back at her, punching her in the gut. She buries her face in her hands and holds her breath, waiting. For death? For life? For mercy?

The sound of the rain returns, as it begins to pour outside. She exhales slowly, and is relieved when only tears accompany it. Her screaming has died, but she's still afraid to open her eyes. What if the real world is still there? She smashes her hands even harder into her cheeks, soaking them in tears.

Out of the darkness of her despair, she feels a hand begin to softly caress her hair, twirling it a bit in their fingers at the end.

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word."

Lacey kneels down in front of her slowly, and the sound of her knees cracking echo in the room.

She doesn't take her hands away from her face, she doesn't want to look, and Lacey just places her hands over them. "Isn't it just like you to turn me away till tomorrow becomes today..."

"I'm sorry," she whispers. And she really is to hear Lacey's alliterations again. She is so sorry for all of it. She's the sorriest sight in the world tonight.

Lacey tightens her grip and pulls her hands violently away from her face. They stare at each other electrically; fear, desire, and bestial determination pass between their eyes.

"I said shut the fuck up, baby." Lacey grabs her, grasping the back of her hair tightly and kisses her passionately, like a lover who has been lost for far too long.

Lightning fills the sky with a fierce white. Nina feels it and looks up with a quick gasp. And she begins to sing, because what else is there to do?

"People are strange...

When you're a stranger

Faces look ugly

When you're alone

Women seem wicked

When you're unwanted

Streets are uneven

When you're down

When you're strange...

Faces come out of the rain

When you're strange

No one remembers your name

When you're strange

When you're strange

When you're strange..."

Breakthrough

The Narrator says...

You have to understand, it was a perfect moment. A symphony of stimulation. Each entity that dwells within her was completely satisfied. They were synchronized: one.

"A Mess to Be Made," by the Format played in one ear, to Nina's pure delight.

American Psycho, playing in the other room, could be heard in the other ear, easing Lacey's urge for violent rebellion to a situation beyond her control, distracting her from self-sabotage.

On the other end of the shared headphones a charming boy sat across from Sparky, singing to her while holding her gaze and attention in the strangest of stares.

The boy was eloquent and inteligent, which of course, impressed Susie.

He told her nice things about herself, leaving Persy at a loss for words.

You see, a perfect moment. Rare, beautiful, and happy. A moment she would never get back, making hesitation the same as failure.

It was a moment that had to end in a kiss because it would have been wrong to let it slip away unrecognized.

I'm A Rocket Man!

The Narrator says...

Sparky shifts her eyes from her dinner plate to the thirty guests that sit before her. Her audience. A quiet part of her has always prepared for this moment. It silently took notes over the years, hanging on moments that would be important later. Moments that are important tonight. She's ready to change a life or two.

She then looks to her right, at her father, the birthday boy. Her purpose.

Quickly, she decides not to look at him until she needs to.

Sparky says...

Holy fuckin' showtime! (...I hope this Susie Sunshine shit works.)

Watch my glitter fly, bitches. Prepare to get misty eyed.

Ahem!

"I am very proud to be here tonight. And to have the chance to tell you, and him, that my dad has always been my greatest teacher. Whether the lesson is big or small, I always listen carefully to what he has to say. In the end, he is usually right. He’s stubborn too. He won’t give up on me until I get it. I remember when I was younger he was helping me with my homework, I was learning fractions. Every time I got a problem right he jogged a lap around the living room. By the end of the night he was pretty tired, but I was a pro at fractions.

He’s taught me more than just fractions. He’s taught me that you should always be prepared for the worst case scenario. That having a sense of adventure will keep you young. And that the easiest way to bring meaning to life is to simply put someone else’s needs before your own. But I think the most important thing he will ever teach me is that it doesn’t matter where you’ve come from, who you once were, or what uncontrollable circumstance you may find yourself in. As long as you do the right things for the right reasons, and you always keep the faith, you can make something great of your life. You can be brilliant, as he is brilliant.

Here’s to you, Sir. Happy Birthday! It’s been a very well-earned sixty years."

Lacey says...

Cheers, daddy.

The Child is Gone

The Narrator says...

When the going gets tough, the tough get going. If you keep your mind and body preoccupied with meaningful things, the meaningless tribulations of our lives that we cannot control become just that. And vice versa.

Susie says...

I find myself in the zone lately. I'm on an upswing, and I'm still climbing. I'm focused.

I am good at my job when I want to be. I have phenomenal people skills and a ridiculous abundance of patience. I can be quite impressive, in my own way, when I want to be. It really comes down to doing good work and sucking up to the right people. Both of which come naturally to me when I'm motivated.

I am oh so motivated lately. It's not like I know where I'm going. I only know that anywhere is better than here. That is plenty motivation for me.

I think I could find meaning in my job someday. Perhaps if I became one of the people who overlooked ADA matters for the company. Help the handicapped take vacations and such. I think I would like that. And who is to say it's a far-fetched idea?

By staying busy with my job, I've stayed busy with my other projects as well. The extra room in the apartment is now painted a vibrant green (the color is called "center stage") and I am slowly collecting furniture and such for it. I bought a vintage, decorative end table that is almost exactly the same color of green at a second-hand shop. And to go on top of it... a beautiful, heavy, black typewriter. My prediction is it dates back to the 30's or 40's. I saw it and I knew it was mine.

The kitchen is finally finished too. I didn't think I would like having a tin back splash at first, but I do. It seems to fit.

The next project is the broken mirror.

Persy says...

You are such a slut. Go on... lick every rung of the corporate ladder with lust. Sell that soul of sunshine for sweet, sinful success. See if I sweat it.

We both know you cant board up the bitterness forever. There isn't a hole hollow enough to hide your horrors. They will always haunt you.

I like listening to the tick-tock of your clock anyways. The creep of your count-down comforts me. Soon enough you will be a shit show worth seeing. I promise.

Communication

The Narrator says...

To titillate the imagination, I present to you a dream...


Upon an empty stage Sparky sits in front of a microphone. She stares out at the empty seats on the prowl for a set of mysterious eyes she knows she won't find, but still fears are there. With the coast clear, she takes the microphone off its stand and sits very still. She puts her head down with a sigh and closes her eyes. She's waiting, patiently. She's not sure what for yet, but it will come to her.

Like a ninja Nina sneaks up behind her and whispers in her ear, "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

Sparky opens her eyes slowly but doesn't turn around, seemingly undisturbed by Nina's surprise presence. "I don't know. I just don't know."

Now whispering in the other ear she says. "Don't think then. Just go."

That was it! Sparky knew it. Just like that a beat started up. And Sparky began to sway with it, the breaks of her scooter squeaking back and forth quietly. Then she began to bump with it. And from her mouth sprouted something unexpected... but perfect. She always knew there was a reason she harbored a disgusting crush for Marshal Mathers.

"There's no escaping
There's no place to hide
You scream, "Someone save me!"
But they don't pay no mind
Goodbye

You're walkin' down a horror corridor
It's almost 4 in the mornin' and your in a...
Nightmare it's horrible
Right there's the coroner
Waitin' for you to turn the corner so he can corner ya'
You're a goner, he's on to ya'
Out the corner of his cornea, he just saw you run
All you want is to rest cause you can't run anymore, you're done
All he wants is to kill you in front of an audience
While everybody is watching in the party, applauding it
Here I sit while I'm caught up in deep thought again
Contemplating my next plot again
Swallowing the Calotapin
While I'm nodding in and out on the ottoman
At the Ramada Inn holding onto the pill bottle then
Lick my finger and swirl it round the bottom
And make sure I got all of it
Wake up naked at McDonald's with blood all over me
Dead bodies behind the counter, shit
Guess I must've just blacked out again
Not again

It's 3 A.M. in the morning
Put my key in the door and
Bodies laying all over the floor and...
I don't remember how they got there
But I guess I must've killed em' (Killed em')

Sitting nude in my living room
It's almost noon
I wonder what's on the tube
Maybe they'll show some boobs
Surfing every channel until I find Hannah Montana
Then I reach for the aloe and lanolin
Bust all over the wall paneling
Dismantling every candle on top of the fire place mantle and...
Grab my flannel and my bandanna then...
Kiss the naked mannequin man again
You can see him standing in my front window, if you look in
I'm just a hooligan who's used to using hallucinogens
Causing illusions again
Brain contusions again
Cutting and bruising the skin
Razors, scissors, and pins
Jesus, When does it end?
Phases that I go through
Dazed and I'm so confused
Days that I don't know who
Gave these molecules to
Me, what am I gonna do
Hey, the prodigal son
The godfather for one
Very methodical when I slaughter them

It's 3 A.M. in the morning
Put my key in the door and
Bodies laying all over the floor and...
I don't remember how they got there
But I guess I must've killed em' (Killed em')

She puts the lotion in the bucket
It puts the lotion on the skin
Or else it gets the hose again

I cut and I slash slice and gash
Last night was a blast
I can't quite remember when I had that
Much fun off a half-pint of a Jack
My last vic and a half
A flashlight up Kim Kardashian's ass
I remember the first time I dismembered a family member
December, I think it was
I was having drinks with my cousin
I wrapped him in Christmas lights
Pushed him into the stinking tub
Cut him up into pieces and just when I went to drink his blood
I thought I oughta' drink his bathwater that oughta' be fun
That's when my days of serial murder manslaughter begun
The sight of blood excites me, that might be an artery son
Your blood curdling screams just don't seem to bother me none
It's 3 A.M. and here I come so you should probably run
A secret passageway around here, man, There's got to be one
Oh no there's probably none
He can scream all that he wants
Top of his lungs
But ain't no stopping me from chopping him up (up)

It's 3 A.M. in the morning
Put my key in the door and
Bodies laying all over the floor and...
I don't remember how they got there
But I guess I must've killed em' (Killed em')"

As the music begins to fade, Sparky smiles. She feels absolutely ridiculous. When the silence sets in, a solitary applause arises from the back row. She laughs without looking. She knows. A few moments later she raises her eyes to Persy's, staring her down. The clapping stops.

Sparky slowly stands up and puts the microphone back on its stand. She carefully leans forward on her scooter and takes her bow. As she turns to head off stage, she hears whispering again in her ear. It shocks her.

"You make the perfect little play thing, princess. A jubilant jester, indeed. My merry monkey. Dance, darling. DANCE!"

...The scene fades to black in a dramatic fashion! The end.

Good Morning, Christmas

The Narrator says...

If you sit quietly enough, you can hear Lacey move. She creeks, you can hear every bone snap into place as she arises. The sound of the monster that sneaks up behind you, the demon that was lurking in the dark corner. The crash of each vertebrae falling onto the next echos in a silent room. It's a warning, like the the sound of 12-gauge shotgun being cocked. Locked and loaded!

Lacey says...

It was my turn to write on the bathroom mirror. I almost have this thing perfected! I couldn't finish because of the goddamn pile of clothes on the floor. Get to work on that, Sue!

Lacey is loved.

Lovely. Longed for. And looking.

Lacey is not lost.

Lacey is found. Straight. Forward.

Lacey is not left.

Lacey is right. Correct. True.

Lacey is not a lie.

Lacey is lucky.

Like lime green!

Not brown. Or blue. Or black...

...and then I ran out of space. It's all coming together though. It's like I have been coming up with the words to this linguistic puzzle for years and I am just now starting to see they all fit together perfectly somehow! Brilliant.

Communication

Amanda says...

I talk to myself a lot more these days. Probably because I am spending more time alone. It's not like I'm having an actual conversation (I don't think, anyways), more I am just thinking outloud. It's comforting to say my thoughts. It makes me feel like I commit myself to them. Makes it harder for me to change my mind.

The Narrator says...

And now, a group session.

Lacey and Sparky plop down on the leather couch, one on each side. Susie takes a seat in the chair across from them.

"Okay, what do you want today, Miss Sunshine?" asks Lacey with an already impatient tone.

"Wait a minute, where is Nina?" asks Sparky.

Lacey looks around the room, "Yeah? Where the hell is that hippie? I thought this was suppose to be a group thing-a-muh-jig."

Shrugging her shoulders and waving a hand in the air, Susie says, "Oh don't worry about her. Apparently some guy told her she has a beautiful aura when she smiles, or something like that, and so she has been prancing around for two days now, singing this or that."

Smiling, Sparky says, "So basically she is unreachable at the moment?"

"Completely distracted, yes. Honestly, she is of no concern to me right now."

"Ha. What a sucker," says Lacey with the hint of a smirk. They are all silent for a moment, making her incredibly uneasy. "Okay, seriously, Sue, what are we doing here?"

Susie takes a moment to center herself. She sincerely hates having to be in the same room as this psycho, but she knows she has to do her best to keep it together. Lacey thrives on her ability to unravel her. "As you both know, I am extremely busy with work these days. You two did a fabulous job of tainting my near-perfect record, and it is now up to me, as always, to repair it. It is especially important the next two weeks, during my new training, that I be 100% on my game, else they may no longer feel they need my services. And in these times, unemployment would not be pretty. Especially for a physically challenged woman and an unstable lunatic."

"Please... elaborate on instability. I'm sure you have some insight to offer, Sue."

Sparky speaks up before the pending argument can ensue, "Get to the point, Susie. I think we all have better things to do."

Flashing her world-class smile, which immediately gives away her rage, Susie continues, locking eyes with Lacey. "We need to set up some rules. If I am going to do what I do best, you two need to behave."

Lacey only laughs. Susie continues, "Keep laughing. Let's see if it pays the bills."

"Alright, alright, what the fuck are these rules?" interrupts Sparky, again being the mediator.

"Well, for starters, clean up the language, Sparky. It certainly doesn't appear professional if you are dropping F-bombs and referring to people as Thundercunts under your breath. No matter how incompetent they may be."

Lacey laughs even louder and gives Sparky a high-five,"Classy."

"And as for you... stop writing all over everything! What am I suppose to say to may supervisor when she looks down at my training booklet and sees your serial killer handwriting all over it, spouting off nonsense about other planets and telephone calls?"

"Well, what the hell do you expect?!!! You've got me holed up in a room full of yuppies for hours. I get bored!"

With her smile widening, Susie says through nearly-gritted teeth, "Then bring your own notebook with you. So long as it doesn't belong to me, by all means, scribble your gibberish. Just don't put me in a position to defend your idiocy."

"Oh oh idiocy! Again, I'm all ears, Sue!"

"Oh for Christ's sake. Will you two shut the hell up. Sometimes, I swear you two should just fuck and get it over with already!" snaps Sparky, mediating for the last time. "I admit, I see your point, Susie. I will do my best to make my act PG for the time being. And Lacey, babe, can-it with the hostility for bit. For me. It's exhausting. I will buy you a six-pack to help chill you out. Deal?"

Considering the offer carefully, Lacey reluctantly says, "...deal. But I want Guinness, not PBR, you hear me?!."

"I can do that."

Breathing a sudden sigh of relief, Susie says, "Wonderful. So glad we got that taken care of. You know, you two certainly don't make things easy for me. In fact, you--"

Susie stops mid-complaint as all three of them hear Nina's voice from outside the apartment. The front door opens, and Nina dances her way in, her big Skull-Crusher headphones over her ears. She closes the door behind her, looks at the three of them, puts her fist in the air, and sings at the top of lungs "She's a killer queeeeeeen! Gunpowder, gelatin! Dynamite with a laser beam!!! Guarenteed to blow your mind... Anytiiiiiiime!!!"

And with that, she leaves the three of them sitting in silence with nothing left to say. As she walks down the hall, they hear her song trail off, "Recommended at the price... Insatiable an appetite..."

As always, Queen saves the day.

Communication

The Narrator says...

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you a dialog between nemeses.

With a low glare and a slight smirk, Lacey looks up to see a familiar face moving her way. She doesn't bother to get up from her comfy spot on the couch, just says without hesitation, "Well then, what the fuck can I do for you this evening, Miss Sunshine?"

"Charming," Susie says with her practiced smile. She walks calmly over to the opposite end of the couch and sits down gently. "Let us just skip the formalities, shall we," she says as she sits up straight and looks at the floor. "I have a problem. I surprisingly and regretfully need your advice, please."

Lacey's smirk widens. As she looks at the broken mirror across the room from her she sees several faces smiling back at her. She stands up quickly and moves to the chair across from the couch. "Since you asked me so sweetly, please proceed. Just watching the hatred in your eyes when you talk to me delights me. It doesn't even matter what you say."

Susie moves her gaze to Lacey's, and yet again flashes her perfected grin. "As I was saying, I have a problem. You may have recently noticed that this apartment is now officially occupied by only one person. There are no roommates to compromise with, as well as no roommates to possibly trash something. The extra room is empty, I need to fill it. Quickly."

With an expression that gives no hints, Lacey waits for the rest of the story. When nothing is said, she says, "What? Do you want my help picking out the drapes? Why the fuck does this concern me? This isn't my area, Sue."

"Su-SIE!" snapped back the nevermore particular Miss Susie Sunshine, with a nevermore larger smile, "Now, I realize that home decor is not your area, thank goodness. Rest assured I have plans in the works to turn that into the best room in the apartment. However, my current problem is something much more... irrational... I think that's the word for it. That is absolutely your area."

"If it's so irrational, what the problem?" Lacey says.

"I'm having trouble going into the room. It scares me."

Laughing slowly, Lacey says,"What the fuck is wrong with you? It's just a room."

"Of course I know that! I didn't mean I was irrational, I meant the problem is irrational," says Susie desperately trying to keep her cool. God, what she would give to be having this conversation over the phone right now. She imagines typing the word cunt over and over again on the word processor of her work computer and starts to feel a little calmer.

"I stick by my answer, Sue, "says Lacey winking. "It is only a room. What's scary about that?"

"I have already thought of three things. One, lots of empty, ominous space. Two, the sounds. Because of the empty space, it echoes. And three, I have never gone in that room much. I realize that even though I have lived here for four years now, that room has always belonged to a roommate. So I just, never went in there. It feels like I don't belong in there."

Lacey rolls her eyes and says, "This is ridiculous." She stands up and grabs Susie's arm pulling to her to her feet.

Protesting, but knowing she can't get away from her grip, Susie firmly says,"Oh please, this is completely unnecessary."

Ignoring her plea, Lacey drags her through the living room and down the hallway, saying, "It's just a fuckin' room." She turns the door nob of the room and shoves it open. The sound of it slamming against the closet behind it surrounds them as they enter. Lacey pulls Susie to the middle of the room and turns to face her. "So here we are. What now?" she says throwing her hands in the air.

Susie looks down, "I think it's just so empty."

Again rolling her eyes, Lacey says, "No it's not. You and I are in it."

With that, Lacey marches out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Yet again, the sound is amplified. Susie hears her say from outside the door,"Now you're in it. Stop wasting my time."

She hears her walk down the hallway and out the front door. Susie stands alone in the room and realizes the little cunt is absolutely right. "What now, indeed."

Are We There Yet?

"All the odds are in my favor
Something's bound to give in"
-Cabaret

The Narrator says...

When just one decides to knock, they all knock. When just one breaks loose, do they all flee?


Amanda says...

A lot going on in my head lately! It's made it difficult to write because I am having trouble organizing all my ideas, they are all jumbled in my mind, speaking to me all at once. It's the Fall season, it always stimulates my creativity. But man, it's crazy this year! I feel like at any moment my thoughts will start spilling from my ears.


Nina says...

It's happening again. For the first time in years... it is happening again. Music is no longer just background noise, it's something to absorb. I find myself stopping in the middle of doing something important to get lost in whatever is playing in my headphones. I suddenly forget what I am doing and follow a heavy beat. I... just... can't... help it! Music has become a complete experience again. I see, hear, smell, taste and feet it. It rips me from this world and shoves me into a war zone in my mind, and the battle is epic! Bombs of the most symphonic noise burst before me and send gravel composed of vibrant colors flying through the aromatic air around me! I am lost before I even have time to remember where I came from.

It's all about the music again. And it's all thanks to one ridiculous, girly, gay television show: Glee. That's right, I said it, GLEE!!! I'm saying it loudly, proudly and completely without shame, I love Glee! It's my new drug.

Their rendition of Maybe This Time, from Cabaret brought me to actual tears. (True story.) It's amazing what inspires me these days.

P.S. Natalie just gets me this morning:

"Ophelia was a tempest cyclone
A god damned hurricane
Your common sense
Your best defense
Lay wasted and in vain

Ophelia'd know your every woe
And pain you'd ever had
She'd sympathize
And dry your eyes
And help you to forget...

Ophelia's mind went wandering
You'd wonder where she'd gone
Through secret doors
Down corridors
She'd wander them alone
All alone..."

Sparky says...

So something has changed. Things are definitely different these days. Not than I'm complaining, I adore change! It's all about reinvention. But I didn't mean to change this time. Hell, I don't even know what I changed.

How do I know something has changed? Well, allow me to get blatantly egotistical for a moment.

The men are flocking to me. And they are all men from my past who decided to overlook me. It's almost like a buzzer went off in their heads, letting them know it was time for a girl like me in their lives. I've heard things like "You know, I have no idea why I never took it to the next step with you," and "I always liked you, I just don't know why I never did anything about it," oh and this one "I just need a guy with tits and a vagina, just like you!"

I will be honest with you, boys, if you had come to me back in the day, I would have melted for you. You would have made me gitty, totally at the command of your will. I would have given you everything. But you didn't say it back then, when it mattered. And I moved on without even realizing it.

I don't want to be with any of them. It's not because I think I'm better than them or because they've treated me badly. They are all perfect. I just don't want to be with anyone. I'm enjoying being selfish too much.

...what the fuck?! Seriously! How is this fair? Is this Jesus' ultimate punishment, an incongruity of hearts? I don't know.

And when did I grow an ego? Oh oh! Maybe that's what changed. Yeah. Ha.

Or maybe, they just want to be in my book. Sneaky bastards.


Susie says...

Busy, busy, busy. Work, play, write, travel... I hardly have time for it all.

I am at my best under these conditions. I work well under pressure. I like forcing myself to be productive. And having the chance to excel. I've decided I need competition in my life. What's the point if I don't have someone to one up? Even if that someone is only myself.

The only discouraging thing is my severe lack of money to show for all my business. True I am broker than a joke at the moment. But I will just consider that another challenge.


Lacey says....

Hahahaha, yes! I'm having so much fun right now. Out here in the open, for all the people to gawk at, to fear. I want them all to see me, to love me for reasons they are unsure of. And right when I have them where I want them, I will switch it up and change the game. Confuse them. Weed out the weak ones. Destroy them.

This season is much better than I could have ever imagined. I'm living it up while I can.

You know what they say... the higher they rise, the harder they fall. And we are pretty fuckin high right now. Just remember what happened last November, and the November before that, and even the November before that! The leaves fall, and the snow sets in. And all those grand emotions we fire up suddenly become stifled by the cold. It creates a mess. A mess we have narrowly made it through in the past.

The joy will die with the first snow. As soon as I'm caged, I will lose it, like always. I know it. You know it. We all know it.

So skip to the sway of the ticking clock sucking away the seconds. Play well now. Pay the price later.

Cue the Queen

The Narrator says...

The stress is beginning to pile up. Again. She finds everything in her life going wrong in one way or another. Her family, her living situation, her dating life, her health... all of it has taken a turn for the worse. When the stress returns, the insanity returns. She has absolutely no control over it. There are two ways things can go:


Option One

She will succumb to the stress and return to her old ways. She will retreat back into the darkest recesses of her mind. The places where all her nightmares are. She will begin waking up in the morning wishing she hadn't. She will lose interest in anything that once made her happy. She will start keeping even more secrets from those who care about her. She will begin hurting herself again, in so many more ways than one.

She will become enraged at the simplest misunderstandings. She will stop caring about everyone and everything. She will lose herself in a maze of depression. And who knows how many more times she can find herself out of it? The next time may be the last time. She may disappear forever.


Option Two

She will run with the insanity. She will dance within the chaos. She will pour all her anxious energy into her eccentricities. She will create something beautiful in place of the utter ruin she currently finds herself in. She will destroy and recreate. She will turn her misery into art. Her panic into poetry. Instead of hiding, she will throw herself into the public eye and scream, "Damn the Man!"

She will turn her repression/oppression into the best excuse to find a new sense of liberation. She will reinvent herself. She will redefine her life. She will be brilliant. She will be epic. She will rock you. She will become the strongest creature anyone has ever seen. And everyone will see her perseverance in action. She will rise to the challenge and everyone will see what she is truly capable of.


She is aiming for Option Two. She slipping into Option One. Insanity can be so blurry sometimes. And it is completely unpredictable. No one knows how this story will end, not even her. Not even me.

She Craves Lemon Pie I

The Narrator says...

With a head full of memories and a heart on the verge of devastation, he returns to her. He has grown so much in the time that has passed. He has learned lessons he always claimed he already knew. Including what it is like to be the one who gets left behind. No longer the heartbreaker that nearly destroyed a young girl, but a simple, broken man searching for something true to cling to. He remembers the innocence they corrupted together, the stupid promises they made, and a time when things in his world made sense. Because she made sense. She and him have always made sense. Not the kind of sense that is apparent to the rest of the world. But the quiet kind of sense that two people only make when they are together, and only between one another.

He comes this time bearing no promises for the future. He doesn't promise her the world, nor Heaven and Hell, nor any sort out of this world, cosmic gift that a boy promises a girl only when he realizes he has nothing of any real value to offer her. Instead, he just simply returns. The pieces of his heart falling from his hands like sand. He knows she cannot, but more importantly that she will not, fix it. But when he is near her he has a clarity which allows him to piece things back together again. And he knows that she will never truly turn him away. Because no matter how often neither one of them ever say it, they love each other. And they always will. It is a different sort of love. One that consists of the strongest friendship. Simply, they know each other better than they know themselves. And together they feel whole.

She has thought about this day, wondering if she would ever see it. She has missed him, more than he could ever possibly know. And she knows without a shadow of a doubt now that he has missed her. He doesn't need to say it. And he won't. (Neither will she.) The beauty of them is they never need to. They just know.

Will she risk it all for him again? Not for a future or a "love" she knows they will never share. It will be for him...just him. For the pure moments they experience in a wonderful now. Will she yet again battle it out with him, her most worthy opponent? The one who brings out her beautiful conflict and fiery compulsion. The one who challenges every fiber within her and forces her to evolve in order to survive the turbulence. Will she abandon the wall she has built up so intently for so long (she knows in his presence it is absolutely useless) for the only one who has ever broken her heart?

To be continued...

She Desires Freedom

The Narrator says...

She needs a life completely separate from them. A life of her own, where she is free to be messy and completely insane. She is tired of being told how to live by a band of hypocrites. The loonies who actually think they are running the loony bin. They just keep helping and helping and helping, but they only make it worse.

She wants nothing from them anymore. Not a thing. They only make her head more of a mess by judging her life based on their own standards. Do they not see how destructive they are towards her? Always reaching, try to grab hold tightly to this girl. They keep trying to tell her she is wrong. They make her feel like the number 13, unlucky and forever stigmatized. They make her feel ugly. They make her feel weak.

She wonders if they would think differently of her if they knew the truth about her life that she has intentionally kept from them. Everything she has been through. Do they ever really stop to think why she has hidden such terrible things from them? She wants to move on. She wants to create her own life, based on her own standards. But they never let her go. They tell her not to be a victim, yet the truth is they are the only ones in the world who make her feel like she is. And she cannot wait for the day when their own judgments turn on themselves, and they can see they are no better than she is.

She will run away soon. They doubt she can make it on her own. But in her mind, that is the greatest part of the escape. They underestimate her. So when she does leave them behind, they will have no clue as to where she has gone.

Then she will be free.

Groggy Thoughts

The Narrator says...

She wakes up after having slept for 14 hours. Her head is killing her. It is a pain she goes to sleep with and wakes up with now, no matter how easy she tries to take it. The only thing that seems to numb her these days are the drugs. Marijuana, muscle relaxers, Zomig... these have become her new friends.

Her head is reeling with pain and bad thoughts. You would think after 14 hours she would feel refreshed, rejuvenated...ready. Instead she feels disoriented and absolutely terrified. Nothing comes to her clearly anymore, it seems. This phantom illness is beginning to take a firmer hold on her mind, the only thing she has ever had control over. It is taking it from her.

She wakes from strange dreams. Dreams filled with the past. She has been dreaming of the only one she has ever loved. Strange dreams, where he is completely present, yet distant. Always in the room with her or walking (yes, she dreams of walking now) beside her, but careful to never touch her. A metaphorical mirror of their true to life relationship. It almost feels as if he is saying goodbye in the best way he can. No...it is more that she is saying goodbye.

Isolation is becoming her new M.O. Her friends wonder where she has disappeared to, and why. She makes up whatever excuse seems convenient at the time. But the truth is, she knows they cannot help her. And she has lived enough of this life to know that it is unfair to make the ones that love you watch as you suffer when they cannot do a thing to help you. Not a single thing. So she has begun to lie to her friends to protect them. And in all honesty, to protect herself. To protect the little pride she has left. She does not want to them to see her in more pain than she can handle. She does not want them to see how much she is losing her mind to it.

She fears she is dying. Slowly and painfully. It has made her realize how much she wants to live. She hates how ironic it all is. She spent so much of her life wanting to be dead. Now that she feels she might actually get her wish, she wants nothing more than to take it back. She wants to make a new wish. But no longer has any clear idea of what she wants. Or what she could actually have.