I still remember his tics. Those quacks erupting from his mouth whenever he got excited. Always covering his mouth out of embarrassment. The sense of shame was quicker to fill him than the humor the followed. I still see his face anywhere I happen to be. The dark forming his face in its black canvas. The gentle static hum from silence in the room mimicking his voice.
I still feel the dread I felt watching it happen when I dream. The rain still falls on my skin, making my hair stand up as the cold infects my nerves. No matter the month, or brightness in the sky, whether it's even raining or not. I feel it. I can still even feel the vibration of it. Dancing around like the head of a drum, from the pads of my feet, and to the matching beating of my heart.
I remember it all, even the sound that it made. Like biting into a stick of celery from the middle. It makes my blood turn so cold I don't know anything else but staying still. My shoes frozen to the ground, but the cold is black. Black makes me see him, and when I see him, I get cold, and cold is black. Black makes me see his body on those stones. I remember the blood on those stones froze me in place, and the rain was... cold. Cold is black.
This was how they made sleeper agents, or brain washed people, or even tortured people, I was so sure of it. The slightest drop of rain reminded me how cold it was. Making me relive those few moments of horror, but forever, or at least until someone shook me. I need friends that won't slip in storm drains, death by tripping is so dumb. Even then it made me cold, and cold is black. Black makes me see him, and it makes me cold, and cold is black.
Suddenly the vibration of my alarm woke me, my blanket turning into sandpaper scratching across my finger tips. The room thrumming to life in a panicked shrill. Screaming as it was torn apart corner to corner, unraveling like pulling on that thread on a sweater. My teeth and eyes were nothing but poorly drawn shapes made by a pen on notebook paper, and the rest of my body clay haphazardly cobbled together.
My lungs took in air. Reconstructing the static hum from my fan into an audible breeze. That woosh painted the walls, the music from my phone bounced and tumbled, rebuilding my bedroom. Watching a cymbal stack brick after brick, and a kick drum put mortar between each of them. I felt the melody twirl on my skin like the sun that shone through my window. "Thank god, it's just morning," The anxiety from my body burned from my veins with those words, only to return with his bright eyes greeting mine.
"MORNINNN!" The dull loudness of his voice almost pushed me out of bed. "Shushsh... You are the last dead guy I wanna see right now," I quickly pushed him away, he would only float a short ways from me. "What!? Wahnk- I am the ONLY dead guy you wanna see. I... I even go out of my way to try and wake you up for your first day of school and this is the thanks I get?" I rubbed my eyes listening to his rambling, his words gave off the scent like burning rubber or gasoline with the way they raced. Though the sudden and kind of funny interruptions from his quack like tics leavened it quickly.
"Why are you so talkative today..? Be quiet like a ghost should or something." I slowly got up from my bed, making short and very slow steps from my bed to the bathroom. I could still hear his intense ranting from behind, along with the sweet music that eventually drowned him out. I quickly conducted my business in the bathroom even while that ghostly moron kept on complaining over nothing. Only as I turned from the door way would he vanish. His rambling vanished with him, but I guess he was never there to begin with right?
God, wherever you are, you have one rotten sense of humor. I wished to see my best friend again for so long. The monkey's paw curled I guess right? Now I get to see him every day, hole-in-the-head n' all. "One of these day's I'll get you out of my head, right? Mallard?"
It was a new day and with that came the new school year, fortunately the last. It's strange how many adults tell me so much about 'how I'll miss it.' It's all some dumb joke. They should be teaching me taxes or something. I don't want to learn about how Napoleon had little-man syndrome. All the thinking of taxes and the school system made me nauseous. The floor felt slimy with it, like the room was covered in a one inch puddle of vomit. God that's gross.
Today was unexpectedly lazy, at least for it being the beginning of his last year of high school. Things were always this way in the little backwoods hovel. Spiderton, who names some country bumpkin village, Spiderton? In the spirit of the laziness though, some pajama pants slid over the pair of boxers that were already on. Then the raggedy pair of slip-ons from dad, the first day fit was incredible already.
The door to my bedroom would swing open and soon after I'd come through. Of course Mallard's phantasmal figure sat floating in front of me. "COME ON! I WANNA SEE ZIPPP!" He'd shout to me, he wasn't as mind-numbing as earlier, at least since the brain fog had cleared. "Yeah me too, let's see if we can catch up with him." I replied back to my personal one ghost entourage. As I walked I noticed the large boot tread imprints in the carpet. They left their own shadow, like a mud trail would, or as if someone tracked oil into the house.
The prints lead to another bedroom, the door had a sign at the middle of it. It was really a big capital J though, painted blue. Brother must be home... I need to check up on him when I get back today. "You miss him don't you?" Mallard asked from behind me, his voice much lower this time. I didn't have a response, or rather didn't feel the need to give one. Of course I missed him, but how do you miss someone who lives in the same home as you, right?
Maybe he's awake... I thought, reaching for the door, but the closer my palm got to it smoke would bellow from the crevice underneath. It was suffocating, not like a fire's smoke where it would deprive you of oxygen. More like the scent of cigarette smoke, all encompassing and impossible to ignore. Maybe not... I'd pull my hand away, I could always catch up with him later, or just shoot a text.
"You really oughta check up on James one day... It feels like forever since you actually had a conversation with him." Mallard suggested. I knew he was right, but how do I even approach him now? It feels like every week he's a new person, with different interests or even a different style. If he wasn't anything else he was probably drunk or so exhausted from work he could hardly stand. "I know I should, but I can't right now. He'd probably get mad if I woke him up just to talk. Later, though."
I walk onward through the little corridor that lead to a downward flight of stairs. Passing by two more doors that also had tracks leading to them. One set was purple and airy, and smelled of lavender or chamomile. The other was a dark red, like blood, and gave of the scent of used engine oil. Mom and dad's room. Respectively. It took awhile to realize how unnatural that was compared to other homes. Everybody else's parents slept in the same room, even Zip's parents did, and they were both junkies.
Now it was down the stairs, hoping mom had made breakfast. I didn't smell anything real this time, other than the odd aroma that our house naturally had. The mix of oil, tea, and a weird tinge of... Citrus? Getting to the bottom of the steps, there were no pancakes, waffles, or even an apple waiting at the table. Nothing but a piece of paper with a ten dollar bill. 'Hey son, I'm sorry I couldn't make you anything for your first day of senior high school, congratulations by the way. I'm so proud of you, but I had to go into the store early this morning. Here's some money to get yourself something after school before band practice. I love you! -Mom
Well that stinks... At least I can get some Taco Bell or something though. I hope she's still there when I go in at least. I picked both the note and the ten bucks up, neatly folding the note, and putting the money into my wallet, then sliding both into my pants pocket. I guess the last thing is to just... walk.
It wasn't like school was far. In fact I'd be okay walking there on a rainy day it's so close, but each step always felt like another step closer to inevitable... boredom. Mallard once again chimed up behind me, chanting in a bouncy staccato, "Go go go go go... Let's go see Zip!" I'd turn the knob on the front door stepping out. "God- What is your obsession with seeing Zip? I wanna see him too." I replied, "Well you know he won't be around for long." Mallard retorted. It didn't sound like a threat, more like some ominous premonition. It was still concerning, hearing a ghost of all things say something like that.
"For sure Mallard, for sure." I brushed it off though, if he felt like something was coming I should've too. He's inside my head after all. There he'd stand though, a short and quite frail kid with black everything on. Black shoes, black, sweats, black hoodie, and even his hair was black. The only thing that branded him was a large scar across his neck. About an inch short from his jaw. It was long and spread to either side. I'm not entirely sure what had caused him to get that, but it definitely turned him into a good listener.
With the raise of him hand, Zip would gesture, crossing his index finger and thumb for 'heart' in ASL. He smiled to me, the smile made all the grass, the leaves on the trees, every small ant, and smaller tardigrade that lived on every surface of everywhere seem more lively; Purely because of how bright his smile was. The breeze carried the scent of cinnamon, or even chocolate. I could hardly give any words back other than my own smile, hazel eyes staring into Zip's tired, brown ones. Eyes that hid so much pain they looked like they hardly had room for his pupils, yet they were sweet, full of a vibrant love. The kind of love that I wish I was able to contain.
"You ready, Zip?" I asked him, and he nodded in response, waiting patiently while I walked to him. He pulled out the shitty smartphone I got for his birthday, it was technically a hand-me-down. So were his clothes, his shoes too, which were littered with holes from where the stitching had come apart. He'd tap away at the smartphone, I sucked at ASL, or at least reading it so he decided to type in his notes to communicate. It was easier for the both of us.
'are you ready for band this year?' It read out on his cracked screen. "Yea... Kinda... I don't know... It's just such a pain having to do this marching shit every year." I responded, starting our trek down the side walk, my pants waving gently in the summer breeze as Zip again tapped at the screen. Zip showed me his phone again. 'at least pretend you like it, itts the last time ill be able to perform with you' I shrugged after reading it, putting my hands in my pockets. "I guess you're right... Yeah, I guess I can try to enjoy it for you."
We'd continue to walk down the sidewalk, eventually there was a loud trotting noise coming from behind us. Along with the sound of a bunch of metal and books being juggled inside a backpack. "Guys! Wait!" A female voice from behind yelled out to us. Me and Zip both stopped to watch as a blond ponytail danced toward us as Tabs, or Tabatha, raced to catch up with us. "Oh hey Tabs, late start?" I joked, Zip waved to her. Only for Tabs to cartoonishly stick her tongue out to me in response. "Yeah right loser, Tabatha is never late." Then as if by the will of the universe, a black sedan pulled up next to the three of us. The window rolled down to reveal another welcome face, it was Christopher, or Thumper, as everyone in band called him.
"Hey ladies~" He teased, waving his fingers at us before hanging his arm out of the car. "You guys ready for the last year?" He'd begin to start conversation, about the same one I had with Zip a moment ago. So I had kind of tuned it out, my focus diverting to the girl sitting next to Thumper. Jackie; Thumper's twin sister. She had an athletic build like her brother, but had weighed 20lbs more than Thumper so she filled out her clothes more.
I felt like I knew thumper pretty well, but his sister was an enigma to me. She had no smell, no feeling, there was hardly anything I could use to describe her other than a brick wall. Jackie was definitely as cold as- "Hey punk! I'm talking to you." Thumper shouted to me, quickly diverting my attention and thereafter, my gaze to him. "Sorry huh?" Was the only way I could reply. "I asked if you were coming in later, you know, at like- our job?" Thumper asked with a very apparent sarcastic tinge to his words. "Oh yeah, I think you and I are on close tonight." Thumper's face lit up with small joy, smiling. "YES! You know what that means. Free. Roller. Dogs."
"Jesus Christ you're gross..."
"What?! You can't tell me you don't like an overcooked roller dog."
"Dude they're so bad- How have you not got your stomach pumped?"
"I 'unno"
Tabs would then pipe up, interrupting our back and forth banter. Her wrist pulled up to her face, looking down at a light pink watch. "Guy's I might actually be late if we don't hurry." Thumper would look to his center console, then back to us. "Fuck- You're so right, come on straight A's we gotta get goin', we can't have our star be late." He joked before the sound of the doors unlocking overtook the sound of the engine for a moment. "Hop in! The Thumper cargo is open for business..."
"Cornball-"
"Shaddup."
It didn't take long for Tabs, Zip, and I to all pile into the back of the sedan. Luckily since Zip was smaller it wasn't bad, unfortunately I was not small, so my legs had squished up against Tabatha's own. I had no complaint's personally, Tabs however, well, didn't deal as well. "Come on fat ass can't you move over anymore?" I rolled my eyes, before laughing again. "You're just mad my chest is big-" I had began my witty, but possibly- definitely ill-mannered retort, only for Thumper to cut us off. "Children! Calm down, we'll be there soon, try not to kill each other for captain Thumper." Thumper said in a defusing sing-songy voice whilst Jackie sat it silence, with her own phone up to her face.
Zip gave a saluting motion to Thumper painting a serious look on his face and puffing his chest out. I would then lean over to the door, taking respite against the column. Slowly my peripheral drained from my conscious, like squeezing the dirty water from a sponge. I wasn't uncomfortable, the sun felt nice today, even in the car. It made everything feel... gentle, somehow. Forgiving in the ways we spun around it how many thousand miles a second compared to the fiery giant.
I got a waft of a familiar scent and it was as if the curtains on my own stage were pulled taut for a moment and I was dragged back onto the hospital bed. It smelled of latex, and harsh sanitizer. God my head hurts... It burns... It burns so fucking much. A searing pain drilled into the front plates of my head. Like every burn I had experienced localized in whatever skin cells were on the rocky scar that cursed my forehead.
It's happening again... I want to go home already... But how do I tell them that..? How do I just tell them that I found myself on the rocks again? Or however close I felt to them didn't mean a thing?
It felt simple.
Too simple. How I could just, stop, breathing at any moment I wanted. Sink into that blackness forever and not have to worry about a headache, a conversation, or to ever look my parents in the eyes to tell them how much farther backward I'd gone. How much I had regressed. I can feel the rain on my head again, rain is cold, and cold is black. Rain is cold, and cold is...
Cold is...
Cold...
I felt my eyes drift from side to side with slack, rotating in their sockets. I had only regained my focus by the sudden jerk of a speed bump from the school parking lot. "Thank you God..." I whispered. Tabs veered her eyes at me, one of her eyebrows raising in worry. Thumper chimed in to let everyone know we had arrived, "Childrennn~ Welcome to your first day at Spiderton high for the, last, time." It didn't take much longer for everyone to climb out after Thumper parked his car.
Tabs tapped my shoulder, as she slid her bag back on. "Did you drift off again?" Her blond ponytail shook like a tassel, asking me in worry. "Uh... Yeah... I think I did..." My previously carefree and prideful tone became sheepish, it was hard for people to not worry about my condition, or be able to understand it for that matter. Among the long list, catalepsy was the most apparent. Not to mention the phantasmal figure that just kind of came and went whenever.
"Well... Just try to take it easy then." Tabatha followed up, Zip walking up from behind, curious about the conversation.
"Okay, Rouen?"