Dream On

Chapter Four

It takes me approximately one month to decide how I'm going to escape. I've examined all of the possibilities, but only one seems completely logical. I'm going to kill myself. Kill myself to save the world.

Elf boy is dead set against it. He says it would be a pointless exercise in stupidity if I just off myself. What does he know anyway?

A whole lot apparently. He's pretty smart, elf boy, even if he IS crazy. Not just weird like me, but 100% fucked in the head crazy. He was reading a book the other day and just threw it across the room for no damn reason. It was a perfectly good Steven King novel. Just up and chucked it for no damn reason.

And he calls me crazy for wanting to die and get out of the pain and the drugs.

I've planned a strangulation. Something nice and quick. Quick enough to snap my neck quicquick enough for me to feel nothing. If that fails for any reason, I'll slit my throat in the most dramatic, obscene way as possible; in front of the other in mates. It'll be my crowning glory.

The night before everything is set to go down, I spend an hour just sitting next to elf boy. He keeps saying that my would be death was senseless. He doesn't understand. He can't understand that the only way out is the only horrific death possible. He doesn't understand the forces at work in the world, and the people trying to kill me. He's clueless like the rest.

We sit together that night. He has his arm around the back of the couch and I'm curled in a ball, tucked close to his side. He free arm is playing with the material of his pants. This is a sign of nervousness, I know. He pinches the fabric up with just his thumb and forefinger, then wiggles it a little bit, sliding the material between his fingers and over the joints. Then, he's smoothing down his pants and doing it all over again. I watch him do this for an hour. I watch him and I listen to his soft tones ringing in my ears. But, I can't heawordword that he says. It doesn't register in my mind.

Finally, I have had enough with his droning. "Look, Elf Boy, it's not your ce oce or your business to decide who dies and when. Only the person doing the act and God, whatever he may be, can decide that. And it's about damn time that you realize that."

He looks down at me as if I've punched him in the stomach. And it burns like acid in the back of my throat to hurt him. He stands, letting my head, which has been lying in his lap, fall to the couch with a dull thud. His eyes go dead looking at me.

"It is my business when someone who is close to me tells me they're going to kill themselves. How could it not be? You're like a sister to me, only closer, and it'll kill me to see you die."

I stretch out along the cushions, putting my hands behind my head. "If you loved me, you'd understand. I have to do this. I can't take any more."

"YES you can! You're strong! You don't need to show your pain or your hurt by doing this. You'll only cause more pain and hurt."

"Who would hurt? Who would even fucking care? Not my family. I don't have a family. I disowned them the day they cut me off without a cent and practically handed me drug needles. I don't have any friends anymore. Friends are a pointless use in my opinion. I bet half of those so-called 'friends' were glad when they heard I was here. Just one less dealer out on the streets to contend with right? Just one less fucked up weirdo corrupting America's children right? No one cares Orlando Bloom. No one."

It's the first time I have ever said his name. I knew him the moment I saw him of course, but it's the first time I have even acknowledged it in front of him.

He lowers his head and closes his eyes. "I care. I care very much."

I look at him in his pain and suffering. "Oh Elf Boy, what a wonderful martyr you would make. Maybe you should be the one to die." I rise to my feet and kiss his cheek quickly before leaving the room.

She kisses my cheek quickly and walks out, leaving me there, grieving for her.

Why do women always make me feel something for them, then leave me to suffer for them after their gone. For a split second, I'm back in the park, reliving the last death of the woman I loved. The screams seemed to stretch on forever that night. Just one long blur of red and screams. I shake my head, desperate to rid myself of the vision.

That one fades and another pops up in its place. The look on the girl's face as she stood there with a smoking gun, waiting for me to love her and call her my own. She did that for my affection. All she had to do was ask.

The tears run silent now, down my cheeks and under my chin. The clock in the hall rings 10 PM and the orderlies start to round us up. I make my way to my room; my eyes glued to the floor and my feet shuffling along. I have to pass her room to get to my own and I don't want to see her right now. I don't think I could look her in the face.

Then, I realize that I may never HAVE the chance to see her again. That it very well could be her last night on earth. And my heart freezes in that second. I raise my eyes and I meet hers. She stands in the hall, a small half-smile on her lips, and I walk to her door. Pushing her backwards into the silent darkness, I pull her into my arms.

"Please don't. Please don't. Please do not do this thing." I repeat words for an eternity and hold her tightly, tears squeezing out through the corners of my shut eyelids. They land on her head, one after another.

She murmurs words of comfort to me. To me, she reassures the meaning of life. I push her back, shaking my head. "No, don't do this. Don't do this to anyone, please." I can no longer stand myself. I sit on her bed with a heavy sigh. "Please, don't do this. I need you. Why can't you just . . . see that?!" I look up at her with all the love and concern I have in me.hy chy can't you just see that I'd die myself with out you? You're all I have in the world. My friends, my family . . . they turned their backs to me. You're all that I have left. Just you. And now, you want to take that away."

Tears form in the corners of her eyes. She shakes her head, her resolve slipping. "Don't say those types of things, please."

I pick up her hand and kiss her palm. The well-worn skin of her fingertips caresses my cheek. "I won't let you. I shall stay here with you tonight. There is no way I'm going to let you die on me."

She nods and pulls me back to the end of the bed. We lay there, out heads on the same pillow, and I brush the hair off of her face. "Sleep. Tomorrow will be better, I promise."

Smiling, Cassia closes her eyes and her breathing slows. She is asleep now. I pull her to me, wanting her comfort and her presence to banish the shadows that I have in my life. And, in the dark of the night I think that she may have just lit a candle.