Young Writers Society

A quick heads-up: trolley is the British word for shopping cart.

.

The Boy Who Broke Mirrors

(Chapter Seven)

.

I’m doing it again. I’m imagining everyone around me being dead one day. I try shaking the feeling off as someone laughs, and a flurry of cigarette smoke dissolves into the dark sky. The cold gnaws at my nose. I’d rather not be sitting on the lawn outside Cardiff City Hall at midnight, but I’d pick this over home any day. Mum doesn’t live there anymore. She’s staying with a friend because Dad refused to leave, and she couldn’t bear sharing the house with him. I can’t say I blame her.

Christmas came and went, as did the realisation that Christmas of all days should be when the sadness over my parents’ situation floods over me, but of course it never did. I just remained feeling nothing, which is what I’m still doing. I should be glad I have the emotional capacity of a table really. While Livvy spent Christmas Day curled up on the sofa and refusing to speak to anyone, I spent it getting on with things easily enough. It's just that I want to feel something towards Dad. I want to be angry at him, and I want to cry over what he’s done. I just want to feel human.

“C’mon, Eff, give it a go!”

I blink as I resurface back to reality, and focus my eyes in front of me. Robbie’s sitting there with a one-sided grin on his face, while Preston lies on the grass beside him. The others are behind them, and they’re pushing an old supermarket trolley around city hall’s car park while Delyth sits inside it laughing.

“I’ll push you, if you want,” Robbie continues as he nods at the group behind him.

Assuming he’s asking me to do so, I can’t really say I’m in the mood to sit in a trolley and roll around Cardiff all night. I shake my head with a shrug as the sound of Aiden cackling echoes around me. I think he’s the one pushing Delyth.

“Go on, babe, live a little,” Preston says from the ground. I can almost hear the grin on his face when he says, “do it and I’ll let you make out with me afterwards.”

I roll my eyes. “I’d rather not catch herpes tonight, thanks.”

The boys laugh, Preston seeming especially amused. “Fine, I’ll let you make out with Robbie then.”

Robbie punches him in the stomach, but Preston only laughs harder. This is the first time he’s acknowledged me all night, and he’s already making me want to throw him out a window. He doesn’t pay much attention to me when his personality disorder decides to make him Zack, and I prefer it that way. The fact he can’t even be Preston when it’s just Robbie and me really makes me question what the hell his and Robbie’s friendship actually is.

Preston’s still laughing hysterically when Robbie turns back to me with flushed cheeks. “Ignore him, he's an arse. You’ve been quiet all night, it’ll liven you up a bit. Go on, I’ll push you.”

He’s right. All I’ve done tonight is be miserable and sit apart from everyone. Nobody has any idea about what’s going on with my parents, not even Aiden. I know it’s probably a stupid idea to keep it all to myself, but I hardly feel mentally damaged by it. I don't need comfort from others. Having the capability to feel sod all is a pretty good coping mechanism, and besides, it would feel wrong to tell Aiden. He’s always so happy and bright, and even discussing bad weather with him feels too negative.

“I don’t know…” I say, finally replying to Robbie. “Maybe.”

“Okay then, fine, I’ll raise the stakes.” Preston butts into the conversation again. “Do it and I’ll keep guard for you and Robbie have a quickie behind city hall.”

This time Robbie hits him in the crotch, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see someone in pain. Preston’s laughter catches in his throat, and he doubles over on the ground with his hands cupped around his groin. He’s still somehow laughing, not that what he said was remotely funny in the first place.

“Screw it,” I say, turning back to Robbie. “I may as well give it a go.”

What can I say? Seeing Preston writhing in pain has cheered me up.

Robbie grins. He stands up, reaches his hand out, and lifts me onto my feet. Preston’s still grappling his crotch as Robbie leads me towards the others, but he still manages to call from behind us.

“I’m only friends with you because your surname’s Morrissey and I like The Smiths!”

Robbie responds by lifting his middle finger into the air. Preston’s laughter vibrates in my ear drums, and it’s impossible to ignore.

“Holy mackerel, you’re not actually going to have a go, are you, Eff?” Aiden exclaims as he bounces towards us.

He’s wearing a bright orange jacket, and I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t caused any car crashes yet. I nod with a shrug and he literally squeals.

“Let me push you, I want to push you! Oh my God, it will be like my childhood all over again! Remember when you tried teaching me to skateboard and I pushed you down this massive hill, and you, like, flew off the thing and landed on a cat.” He pauses. “I won’t throw you onto a cat this time, scout’s honour.”

I turn to Robbie questioningly, and he shrugs with a smile. Taking that as a go ahead, I let Aiden grab my hand and pull me towards the group. A Blink 182 song blasts in my ears as we approach them, and it takes me a while to realise it’s coming from wireless speakers in Samantha’s hands. It’s the closest thing to any noise she’s ever made. Delyth’s lifting herself out of the trolley and as her eyes clap onto where my hand is in Aiden’s, she looks like she’s about to eat me alive. Someone needs to tell her Aiden’s gay. They really, really do.

I don’t properly know anyone else in the group besides Samantha, but then all she ever does is stare and smile at me. She’s doing exactly that as Aiden helps me into the trolley. Robbie’s caught up with us by the time I’m sitting inside it, but Preston's still lying on the otherwise empty lawn. My heart's beating out of time to the song pulsating out of Samantha’s speakers, and there’s not a car or a soul in sight. The car park must be at least a hundred yards long, and I don’t think city hall has ever looked so threatening. It stands to my left, towering over me as if one little nudge could send it crashing to the ground. I grasp onto the trolley’s sides, its metal freezing against my clammy palms. I swallow hard.

The music suddenly changes, and John Newman’s Love Me Again starts playing. Aiden grabs the trolley’s handle. This was a bad idea. This was a really, really bad idea. My voice competes against John Newman’s as I try telling Aiden I’ve changed my mind, but he doesn’t even blink. I clench my eyes shut. I know I’m being wimpy, but I can’t say I’ve ever rolled around in an abandoned supermarket trolley before. Knowing my luck it’ll collapse underneath me, and my trustworthiness towards Aiden is decreasing by the second. I swallow again. I seriously need to stop agreeing to things so willy-nilly.

The song’s chorus kicks in and Aiden starts pushing. My eyes are still shut, my palms are sweating. The trolley’s speed is accelerating every second, and the uneven concrete below me is causing it to wobble. What if I fall out? Oh shit, I’m going to fall out, aren’t I? I yelp. Aiden’s running, the music’s getting louder and louder, and the moment the beat kicks in, he lets go. I scream as a wave of emotion almost knocks me over. Fear floods my bloodstream, anger over Aiden letting go vibrates in my brain, and the frustration of having no control looms over me like a heavy mist.

And then I laugh.

I laugh because for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel something. I feel everything. I want to jump out of this trolley and charge after Aiden, I want to scream and cry in fear, and I want to laugh at my irrationality. I finally open my eyes and the wind rushes into them. It stings, but I don’t care because it makes me feel alive. It makes me feel human. I zoom past a parking meter as a discarded polystyrene box swirls into the air, and I’m charging towards blackness as I approach the end of the car park. I’m about to let go of the trolley’s sides and lift my arms up when I come to an abrupt stop.

I spin my head around to see Aiden behind me again, the handle firm in his grasp. Everyone else is standing in the middle of the car park now rather than the other end of it, which probably explains the music getting louder. All I know is that I want to go again. I need to go again.

“Do it again!” I yell at Aiden.

He laughs, and being the true best friend he is, he does just that. He reverses me back towards the group, and as we near them, he starts spinning around. The trolley and I spin with him, and the exhilaration comes rushing back over me like a tsunami. It dances around my body as Aiden pushes, pulls, and spins me around the car park. I lift my arms up and feel like I could fall out any second, but I don't care. Faces turn into blurs and everything around me becomes less and less real. The only thing connecting me to reality is the music seeping into my ears.

I’m feeling nothing again, but this nothing is different. This nothing is good. It’s as if I’m floating. It’s as if the trolley is a fragment of my imagination, and everything else around me make up the other fragments. Maybe I am floating, and maybe this is reality. Maybe what I thought was real--my parents, college, Aiden, Robbie, Preston, everyone else--are just illusions. Maybe I’m just a body floating aimlessly through space, content in the nothingness that surrounds me.

The music suddenly stops, the song changes, and I snap my eyes open.

“Earth to Effie… Hello?” Robbie laughs as he finally catches my attention. He's standing in front of the motionless trolley. “Give someone else a go.”

“Sorry,” I say as my cheeks flush.

He helps lift me out of the trolley, and I jump onto the concrete with a soft thud. The ground doesn’t feel real anymore. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, and it still feels like I’m spinning. Delyth grabs the trolley from beside me, but before she can do anything with it a hand snatches it from hers.

“My go.” Preston winks at her.

Rude. I hadn’t even realised Preston was here, and neither did anyone else judging by the surprised looks on their faces. Instead of staying put, Preston pushes the trolley out of the car park and onto the pavement that frames it. He’s heading towards the steps of the underpass, and knowing his lack of safety awareness, he’s probably planning to ride it down those. To my relief he goes past the stairs. He must be heading for the ramp instead.

As he reaches the top of the ramp, Preston gets Robbie to steady the trolley. He effortlessly jumps into it. There’s a dead end at the bottom, and you have to take a sharp right turn to follow the underpass leading to the other side of the main road. Otherwise you’ll get a face full of concrete. Despite that, Preston asks Robbie to push him straight down the ramp.

“Zack, you do realise there’s a wall at the bottom of it, right?” Robbie raises his eyebrows, his hands still grasping the trolley. I can only just hear him over the music blaring from Samantha’s speakers.

“Yep.”

“As in a hard, concrete thing you’ll crash into and probably get yourself killed with?”

“Yep.”

Robbie raises his eyebrows again.

“Don’t sweat it, I have it covered.” 

Robbie laughs as he does the most idiotic thing I’ve ever seen him do. He pushes the trolley just enough for it to start wheeling down the ramp. 

“It’s your funeral!”

I gape at the scene before me. Is Robbie stupid? He’s already almost seen Preston dead once, so why on earth did he just do that? Preston stands up in the trolley with his knees slightly bent. What the hell is he doing? Why is he standing up? Dear God, does he have a death wish? He’s grinning. He’s actually smiling at the fact he’s about to slam head first into a concrete wall. I simply stare, my face extorted into an expression of utter distress. 

He’s seconds away from hitting the wall now. I’m biting my lip to stop myself from yelping, and so is everyone else by the looks of it. He’s inches away. Centimetres. Just as I’m about to give in and scream after him, Preston jumps, flips backwards, and lands feet first onto the concrete, stumbling slightly. Meanwhile, the trolley crashes into the wall. Robbie high-fives him while everyone else stares in admiration. I think I almost just spewed out all of my internal organs.

Now that Preston’s done showing off, I turn away and sit on the metal railing beside me. I can feel the coldness of it through my jeans, and the blue colour it’s been painted with is peeling off. I pick at it as I watch Robbie high-fiving Preston once more while the others watch on, some still looking amazed at what just happened. I shake my head. There is something seriously wrong with that boy. I’m about to stand back up when Delyth breaks away from the group and sits down next to me.

“So what’s the deal with you and Robbie?” she asks in a casual but clearly delving for gossip sort of way. “Not that I’m assuming anything, but y’know, it seems like you two are into each other or something. I was just wondering because, like, does that mean you’re over Aiden?”

What? Delyth carries on rambling per usual, but I don’t process a word she says. She thinks I have a thing for Aiden? Up to now I’ve been half-joking about her fancying him, but the reality of my theory is slapping me in the face like a wet fish. Oh Lord, the poor girl… I should tell her, shouldn’t I? No one else seems to have so far, and she clearly isn’t figuring it out for herself.

“Don’t worry, Delyth.” I interrupt her mid-sentence. “I’ve never had a thing for Aiden, I can assure you of that.”

“C'mon, Eff." She nudges me with a wink. “You so fancied him. Are you sure you still don’t?”

“Del, seriously, I’ve never fancied Aiden in my life.”

“You so have!”

“I really haven’t…”

“You have!”

Delyth’s voice is raised, her eyebrows narrowed. Her lip is curled, and she’s actually getting kind of scary. Her hands are grabbing onto the railing so tightly that her knuckles have turned white. Someone doesn’t like being wrong.

“I bet this whole Robbie thing is just a front to make me think you’re over Aiden… That’s it, isn’t--”

“Delyth, Aiden’s gay!”

She stammers. Her agitated look disappears, and her face softens. She purses her lips and swallows hard as guilt starts creeping in on me. I shouldn’t have said that so bluntly. Bless her, she probably really likes him, doesn’t she? She must be dead embarrassed right now. Plus I take my hat off to her for not stereotyping and assuming Aiden’s sexuality from the get go.

I’m about to comfort her--heck, I’m tempted to wrap my arms around her and give her a hug--when she smiles. Not the embarrassed smile I expected though. The kind of smile that says, let’s be best friends forever and ever, and have loads of sleepovers so can I rip your limbs off while you sleep, chop them up, spit on them, boil them, and then feed them to all your friends and family.

“Look, you can say you don’t all you want.” A strand of blonde hair falls over her face. “You obviously fancy Aiden, but no way am I letting you win him. You can make shit up about him all you want, but I am not giving up that easily. I’ve never lost anything in my life and I don’t plan to start now.”

Delyth shoots me her I will kill you in your sleep grin again, stands up, and struts back over to the group. Well that was really freaking weird. I'm not sure whether to burst out laughing, or start sleeping with a knife at hand from now on.

* * * * *

I struggled quite a lot with this chapter, so I'm sorry if it's a little pooey. I'd written the first five in advance before posting the novel, so this is the first 'freshly written' one. It just feels kind of all over the place to me. I could really do with some help with it, so please do rip this to shreds. Cheers! (Also, Cardiff City Hall is an actual place. As my descriptive skills are absolutely shameful, search it on Google Maps to get a better idea of things if you want.)

Clickety-click: http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/clubs/1692