Ok guys, I am gonna try and jump into something new and exciting. I don't know how well this will go over, but I hope this ends well. It will probably be longer than usual, but I'm really not sure, so tear it to shreds with reviews!
Explanations, life is full of them, and the explaining that J.C. is doing right now means the difference between forgetting and painful remembering. The words buzz through my mind as I hear him explaining how everything works.
"Ok, this is where you put the weed and where you light it."
I already know this. It's not like I haven't done this before, it just didn't work. My mind wonders off in annoyance. I remember the time my friend Ava came over and brought some weed with her. We smoked it, but it didn't effect me. She was high as a kite though. I guess all the years of smoking it made her able to use the weak stuff. Not me though, no ordinary stuff will work for me.
"You see this hole on the side?"
Him questioning me directly brings my attention back. I look at the carving in the side of the can that he is pointing to.
"Yea," I reply simply.
"When you light it you cover this with you thumb, after you have breathed in as much as you can you let off the hole and breathe in again."
Panic overwhelms me again as I remember, I can't light a lighter! My brain freezes and I can't get the nerve to tell him. What if he thinks I am a idiot for not being able to do this? Most people can light a lighter. Well I guess I have to tell him or I'm not going to get anywhere.
"Um, J.C.?"
"Yeah?"
"I can't light a lighter, last time I tried I burned the shit out of my finger," I sputter out. I remember yet again when Ava came over and forced me to use a lighter. I was high enough not to feel the pain, but it still wasn't worth it.
"Ok, I'll light it for you."
I can feel the tension relieve immediately when he says this. His midnight eyes glimmer back at me.
"Are you ready?"
I know that nothing could ever truly prepare you for something like this. I wonder how I will act, what I will say. It makes no difference as long as I don't tell them, as long as I don't let them find out who I really am. If they knew the real me they would be five thousand miles away by now, never wanting to speak to me again. I reflexively look down to the remains of my arm. What years of mutilation has done to me, only scars now, not very noticable, but still I hide my arm. Even that is small compared to the secrets I hold inside.
"Yes. I'm ready."
He gives me a quick demonstration and then hands the used can to me. I stare at it for a moment and then lift it to my moist lips.
There is no way to explain how it feels to be high, but after numerous rounds of passing the can between the three of us I was high. At first I could feel a slight fog in the back of my head. Later just remembering I had a head was a challenge. The fights between me and my mom were soon forgotten, the silence between me and my dad lays at rest. I don't think about the many things that flood my mind every day, and depression doesn't seep in on me. Tonight will be different, I will not cry myself to sleep, tonight will be fun.
Fun is not a word you would use to describe driving when your high. I scooted up between the two front seats and stared out the window. I suppose if you are going to ride with an underage driver that has been smoking pot, you might as well screw seat belts too. I stare at the road before us and notice a giant curve ahead. Usually this wouldn't be a big deal, but as the curve went left we went straight. Waiting for the impact of the crash I hide my face on J.C.'s seat. I wait for another minute, but nothing happens. I look up again and we are still on the road. Again and another curve looms before us and yet again we go straight.
"I'm seeing curves that aren't there J.C."
He looks back at me and smiles, to me this seems more like a mock though.
"I think your pretty fucked up," he let a small laugh slip from his lips.
"Yea, I am."
I feel anger flush my face as I realize he doesn't care that it looks like we are all going to die every second.
"So where should we go," Clark asks?
"What about that haunted church we went to," J.C. replies?
As he says this, haunted memories flood my mind. Memories of the women and children that have haunted me for years. Memories of the ghosts that never leave me, and the nightmares they leave behind. Memories of the marks left on my body after a unrestful night with the dead.
"No," I almost scream but soon recover myself.
"Well then you have two options."
"Anything but a haunted church."
I hear the laugh in his voice as he replies to me.
"We can go vandalizing, or I can surprise you, your pick darling?
Part 4 ~
Surprise or vandalism? I hate surprises, I have always hated them. No reason in particular I just hate surprises.
"Oh, and by the way, we will be doing both, so it doesn't really matter what you pick."
What luck, my only ride home wants to go vandelizing.
"Vandalizing I guess."
"No." "Your to scared to go vandalizing and do any good, I think option two will be better."
I don't reply to him, and he doesn't care. I lay my head back on his seat, wondering what the night holds for me.
We've been driving for what seems like hours, and neither of them has said a word. Then out of nowhere I see a huge abandoned building. I feel the car stop below me and I wonder what he has in store for me now. I see J.C. get out of the car, so I hop out as well. I maneuver my way over to J.C., and plant myself as close as possible to him. Clark is still sitting motionless in the car.
"Isn't he coming," I ask?
"No." "Just me and you, oh and a few ghosts."
He laughs at his joke, but I don't think it's funny.
"Ladies first," he commands.
I start my way up to the door of the old house. This is so stupid why am I doing this? Then I remember my ride home. I check to make sure he is still behind me, but I find myself alone. I look at Clark sitting alone in the car, he gives me a nod to go in. I open the door and listen to the creaking it makes as it reveals what the house holds. Nothing much to the old place, dust, an old stairway, oh and of course the old piano's you see in the movies. They should even consider using this place for a horror movie.
I start walking through the house but stop to look at an old picture hanging on the wall. That's when I hear the sound of footsteps behind me. I turn and look, but nothings there. Maybe it's just my nerves, I think to calm myself. No. This is no mind game, footsteps are behind me, and whatever is making them is almost to me. I turn around and a face appears before my eyes! I want to scream, I want to run, but I can't. Then out of nowhere two hands grip me from behind. I can feel the blood run from my face when I hear the familiar voice.
"Relax."
His grip on me doesn't loosen, and I am happy because I know I would fall to the floor if he let go.
"What are you trying to do!" "You just scared the shit out of me!"
He turns me around gently, gazing into my eyes, but his eyes show no apology. My stomach flutters because I know what happens next. His face leans into mine, and I catch it with my lips. Our mouths move in a steady flow, until he breaks it off.
"Will you ever forgive me?"
"I'll think about it," I laugh.
