A Misc Eden

God sat on his golden throne, that looked over earth, from Heaven,

Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.”

He lied. Life was nothing but a comedy. He made us in his image and put us on this earth without any rules or instructions. Then told us to live. Our everyday lives were worse than any coliseum that Ancient Rome had. He did this because he could-because he was invisible. And since we couldn’t see him, he was more powerful than Superman and Shazam combined. Everyone expected us to bow-I didn’t. I knew your game. You could play your game all by yourself.

So I said forget your tiny pop-tart men, who marched back and forth with spears. I didn’t want them to march around me calling me their king. I just wanted to be alone.

The microwave, sitting on a marshmallow cloud in a colorful sky, flashed 8:09 a.m. in bright green numbers. It was really 12:40 in the afternoon. There were calendars flocking and chirping about as the birds, and they read that today was Saturday, September 15 2012-it was actually February 2, 2013.

As always, everything was just off.

My mother, the peculiar sight she was, danced around to the annoying and repetitive mariachi music that played from her head, swinging her body around with empty pop bottles in hand and moving through an ankle deep river of too sweet ice tea. Off key, she sung me happy birthday in a delightfully drunken slur. A sloppily put together chocolate cake, slumped over and collapsing to the right, was in front of me; the mucous colored frosting was on in thick patches and the various colored candles were already half melted.

“Happy birthday to yoooooooooooooou,” she said from the valley below, shouting to make sure I heard from my isolation, the highest point of this never-ending meadow, on top a mountain of crystallized brown sugar. If I had not heard her singing all morning, I would have thought her voice was more beautiful.

“Mom,” I said. “I’m ten and my birthday was a week ago. We had a party and everything.”

There were party hats and torn wrapping paper marching up and down the side of the mountain, dragging their tiny feet and kicking up sugar, apparently forgetting the day as well, since they were also singing happy birthday in really high-pitched voices.

What did I expect? I asked myself. She lived for celebration. It was just another day for her to twirl and twist around, overdosing on chocolate until she passes out wherever she stands. During my actual birthday, she was floating on a large ice cube in the river after showing our neighbor, Kelly, a redheaded rag doll, how to swim. There, she lay lifelessly, occasionally rolling over to take a sip of pop. Now, she was up, reliving the day she missed because she couldn’t control herself.

“Oh, strawberry pop tart, I think I would know the day I birthed my only child,” she said. Then she giggled, still twirling.

“Don’t you mean created?”

She did not hear me, since I was too far away and I did want to yell. And even if I did yell, she wouldn’t have heard me, because she was too busy dancing-throwing her body everywhere like she was a noodle and yodeling some song I couldn’t make out. If she heard me, she would agree. She would hold me in her arms, rest my head on her chest and explain that was why she named me Adam. I mean, she never told me why she named me Adam, but she did not have to; I understood. Tired of the world, she created this Earth A of the two dimensional livestock; ice fish, origami birds and all the other bizarre things she could think of, along with me-the world’s first man.

My mother had this special ability to create objects just by thinking them. She created me-I always knew it.

How else could you explain such an abrupt existence? Last week, my birthday was my very first memory and I remember it well. My eyes opened to welcome this bright world as my mother moved into my blurry vision. When she spoke, I could barely hear because I had clogged ears.

“Welcome to this world, teaspoon of sugar,” she said.

Since, I’ve sat in a crumbling home of bread where mold seeped into the flaking walls that had so many paper moths that chewed at any fabric that laid about. At first, I was afraid of them-I thought they were ugly- and I would run away, but after the countless nights where I heard their wings chatter around me, I started to appreciate them more and more.

Honestly, I hated my life. I had no friends, no hobbies, no skills or family- outside my mother. Once I tried to travel the bizarre world, but after an entire day of non-stop walking, I ended up back on this very same mountain.

People live their lives in this same manner and they are fine with it, I always thought. Do they not care how guided their lives are? Are they stupid?

My mother, now the sun, lowered to me. She was bright and her smile was even brighter, but even so close to me, I didn’t feel any heat.

“Aww what’s wrong, sugar foot?” She asked.

“I just don’t feel good.” My knees were up to almost my chest and I buried my face into them.

“Aww was it the cake?” Slithering from her lips was a black licorice tongue, scooping up the cake, obnoxiously smacking and chewing, and dropping every crumb onto my head.

“No, it’s not the cake. It’s just I don’t get life. I know what it is. I know it’s people living their lives. I can recall faces, places, smells, and events, but I can’t remember them. Sometimes I wonder if I am even living.”

“My tumbleweed is confused.”

“I’m more than confused, mom.”

“So what is it do you want?”

“Understanding. I want to know why we are the only ones here. Is this Heaven? And why do I know what Heaven is? I’ve never even heard of it until I just said it!”

Gradually, I felt myself slipping deeper and deeper into confusion as my thoughts ran circles in my head and I fell back onto the ground. Sugar went up into the air and fell onto my face. Without the energy to fight, I just let it to dissolve into the sweat on my face.

She looked at me; her eyes were bulging and coming from them were rays of light that shined brightly. I never saw her look so terrified in my life. Then I realized that she wasn’t looking at me-she was looking past me.

“Mom,” I said. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

She didn’t say anything and she just kept staring past me until eventually I turned around.

There were a group of men-at least ten of them-wearing riot gear, pointing rifles and shotguns at my mom.

Just as I got all my thoughts together to say something, the men opened fire and bullets just went through my mom. Then everything went black.

I could not move; my heart would not allow me. I could not speak; my throat was swollen shut.

My mom was dead. What do I do now? I asked myself.

“Adam,” this really authoritative voice said. It was a woman. By her voice, I envisioned she was really old and wrinkling and wore a black suit.

I was wrong-terribly wrong. It was neither a man nor woman. A fire-breathing dragon looked down with eyes that were naturally scary, but concerned.

“Adam Tigris,” it said, “I promise things will be better from now on.”

….

Maybe “better” doesn’t mean better anymore, I thought. Maybe “better” is used as wishful thinking.

Or maybe, my life was so terrible that even “better” sucked. I was stupid. I believed the dragon, even after it murdered my mother in cold blood. I let it take my trust and throw it in the dirt. I bet I was still the talk of every dinner. Just a room of dragon people laughing and joking as they eat the souls of those they walked into Hell.

“Note to Adam,” I said. “Trust no one in this God forsaken world, especially those with dragonheads.”

An evil essence possessed the cold clammy room of the forgotten souls that repeatedly opened and slammed their tombs within the mortuary. The only source of light was a dimly lit bulb that swung from a cord dangling from the ceiling, but a few seconds ago, it dropped and blood went all over the room. It was dark, but I could still see the blood, glowing. Slowly dripping, the blood trickled down the filthy tiled walls, and made screeching and howling noises.

If I could have spoken, I would have happily tried to explain how I would leave if my feet let me. Since I could not do either, I had to watch five little balls of what I assumed was transparent dust float from their graves and towards me as they wailed.

“Don’t tell…Don’t tell,” they said.

Each time they repeated themselves, they moved closer.

“Get overth here!” One yelled, wrapping itself around me and picked me up in the air. “What didth you see, huh? What didth you see that thou don’t admit?”

“N-Nothing!” I said, shaking.

“Lie! You areth a snitch! Just speak and I shall not kill you, vile swine!”

“Kill me? Why so serious? I didn’t see anything! I swear!”

It began to shake me. Every organ in my body felt like they shifted.

“Aye, Corey, calmeth down! No need to turneth thee child into a smoothie,” another essence said. It was free natured and nonchalant without a sense of urgency by the way it crookedly glided over to me; it was almost like he was striding, but in the air.

“Nick, he saweth what occurred. He shall certainly snitch! Looketh at him, he looketh a bitch!”

“No, I don’t,” I said. My voice cracked and shot up in a girl’s tone.

Way to go, Adam, I said to myself. Nice one, I thought.

The essence known as Nick circled around me.

“Yay, you areth correct,” it said. “I fathom a bitch. Yet so?”

“Yet, we know him not,” Corey said. “Don’t trust that dog. When he bites, his venom tooth will rankle to the death. A snitch he is.”

“He knows not whateth we did. Paranoia is just as poisonous.”

“For now maybe! Once Mrs. Cunt screams, he shall puteth the portrait together and we are dry vagina during intercourse!”

“Which is certainly why thy friends does more just than thy enemies. Love is not madeth with rage, but passion in each stroke. Leth him go.”

“Whatever.” The essence named Corey dropped me to the floor and angrily wisped back to the others, picking up a bag that seemed to move and throwing it within one of the eternal beds before hopping in one itself.

I still do not know how he did it since he had no arms.

The others followed, but not before they circled me and aggressively moved up and down in what I figured was their way to give me the middle finger since they belittled me in undistinguishable and harsh mumbles. Everyone left, except the one named Nick.

He illuminated, flashing brightly and I assumed it was its way of smiling. Oddly, I had that awkward feeling of eyes staring at me. I shifted my eyes elsewhere, but the same force that kept me grounded, pulled me into the glow of the being that hovered around me. It was weird, he smelled. Whether it was a spiritual being had this natural odor or whether it rolled around in grapes, freshly picked and straight off the vine, I did not know, but it was awkward. When the thing noticed that my nose wiggled as I smelled him, he glowed more intensely and rapidly, and then turned completely white.

“I knoweth where thou mind wanders,” he said. “Yet, for thou to get a wench, thou must smelleth like a wench. Understandeth, thy nigga?”

I never heard the word in my life, but I knew exactly what it meant. A derogatory slur for black skin, I thought.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But what did you call me? a-”

“Nigga? Yay! I pray that thee word is familiar. Thou act as thee word is unfamiliar. Thou are haunting. Whateth the fuck!” By his tone and dimming color, it was obvious he really was freaked by my ignorance.

“No, I have heard of it, but I shouldn’t let someone call me that.”

Then he laughed. “S’wounds! Scare me not! Yet, nigga is well. It standeths for greatness, strength, bold…It meaneths king!”

“King?”

“Yay! It’s a euphemism!”

Ignorance was bliss, I thought. Everything about them was ignorant, from their improper dialect to the way they carried themselves. I was pretty sure that the other supernatural beings didn’t approve the way they were representing their kind as a whole. They made every ghost just look bad. They weren’t as intimidating as they originally were.

The ground began to shake. Nick and I knew who was coming and we froze.

She had an old hag’s cackle and came in through a murky fog that seeped through the door, and any crack or opening in the room. The fog was thick-so thick that it took a few minutes before it thinned enough for me to see myself. The entire time she was laughing and it was so creepy, but powerful, because all the other beings fell from their beds-like something was pulling them-and exploded into particles when they crashed into her.

I braced and clenched my body, thinking the same would happen to me, but it didn’t. The force that controlled them, kept me frozen. I had my eyes closed, but the force opened them. The fog was still somewhat thick, but not as much, and I could see her, standing in front of me wearing a white robe smeared in fresh blood; she was juggling a battle-axe. Occasionally, she would miss the handle, grabbing the blade and blood gushed out as she gripped it harder and harder.

“Come,” she said. The fog moved from over her face. She was a really old and feeble woman.

And I thought that her telling me to “come” was just a way to make the moment feel a little more diplomatic, because I still couldn’t walk on my own and I only moved when she told me to. Out of the room, I marched through a foggy swamp of the unfortunate souls that fell to her blade. They were humanoid, but with a bluish tint and completely naked with scars all over their bodies. Their eyes hung down to their necks and I reluctantly glanced up at them, before quickly looking away as they looked up at me.

They moaned, reaching out and digging their long sharp nails into my flesh as I shuffled by. As blood came out of their mouths, they became more eager, shaking uncontrollably and waving their mostly severed tongues.

Disgusting, I thought. Yes, I’ve often imagined what a kiss felt liked, but I’m not this desperate. I would rather make out with that snapping turtle my mother gave me for practice.

They moaned heavier than before and pulled at me hard enough to rip some of my skin. They let out one final moan; it was so loud everything vibrated. Leeches oozed from their mouths and every incision on their body until it imploded. Pieces of organs, broken bones and muscles, still moving, fell all over me. They floated and brushed against my feet as I moved through the knee-deep water that rose with each step.

I could see the leeches in the water and I started to panic, but since I couldn’t move, all I did was cry.

“Orange,” she said. Unlike before, she now spoke in a heavy Spanish accent and broken English. “Where-is-my orange?”

“I don’t know, I hate fruit,” I said. “I wouldn’t take it. Oranges give me heartburn, but you can buy another one. They are really cheap too. Please, just let me go. Those things are going to eat me!”

“Now, now, now…They won’t hurt you unless you lie. Now, dry your eyes, my child.”

A leech slithered up my body, latching and gnawing onto my cheek. I freaked out; trying my hardest to lift my hands and knock it off, but all I could do was scream bloody murder. I begged. I pleaded. I made all the promises I could make that I didn’t know what she was talking about, but she didn’t believe me. She never let me go.

She walked to me, pushing her blade into my throat as she hissed like a snake.

“Lies!” She shrieked in a pitch so high my eardrums felt as if they burst.

The swamp floor gave out from under me and I fell straight to the bottom of the salty and boggy water. I stood next to what I imagined were soggy limbs, ears, noses, lips and eyes from the half-decayed corpses, which I thought were dead until they began to tug at my legs. In that moment, I was able to move. I tried to fight and scratch my way back to the top, but there were too many of them. They held me down as the leeches bit my face off and then the rest of my body-I didn’t feel anything. Water filled my lungs as I screamed.

As I’m slowly fading away, I heard the woman yell out in Russian. Then, in English, she said her cat, Orange, went missing and since fear was properly installed in every child except for me, she suspected me of the misdoing, but since she had no proof, she would only give me a warning: return her cat or face the consequences.

Just when everything went black and I thought I was dead, I fell to the ground of a broom closet, hugging a mop as I flopped and grasped for air. I did not know how I got there, but it was great to see that I was no longer in the swamp and she was gone. I smiled, but I cried. I could still feel those peeled hands holding my ankles and the slimy creatures chewing holes through me. As I jerked and pulled off the creatures that crawled on me in my mind, I noticed someone staring at me from behind the only piece of clothing in the closet, a red coat.

I could only really see the person’s eyes. They were pretty big and kind of sweet.

It was a girl of soft features; coconut tanned skin, really nice and full lips and a pixie nose. Everything about her screamed innocence and delicate, but she looked straight into my eyes, which made me really uncomfortable, and whispered one word, “die.”

I couldn’t breathe. I felt cold. I couldn’t resist the chills that ran down my spine and I couldn’t stop crying. Like my spirit, my body felt numb.

Mom, why did you do this to me? I thought. Why did you create me and put me in this world just to suffer? Why do I have to do this without you? Mom, I don’t want to be here anymore.

Mom, just come back, I thought.

I punched the floor. I punched it again and again and again and again. As long as I couldn’t feel anything, I kept punching. The skin on my knuckle peeled away as easily as my hands bounced off the wooden floor. It felt like a monster was inside of me.

“Adam,” the girl said.

I stopped. My hands was hurting like crazy and I brought them to my stomach as I leaned forward on my knees. “What? Just leave me alone, would you!”

“You saw her and you’re here. Did you do naughty things?”

She stared at my crotch as she clenched her own. Reluctantly closing her eyes, she took slow breaths. When she inhaled, she held her breath and then exhaled; she looked like she was in pain.

She quivered. Then, she went still.

“It’s over,” she said. “It’s over. Don’t worry. It’s over.”

“Hey, are you alright?” I asked.

As I reached over to her, her eyes bulged and she looked insane. I would have called her crazy if it wasn’t for the fact she looked hurt. Then she tackled me and as I fought her, she pulled down my pants.

“Your underwear is still on,” she said. “Why are they still on?”

I shoved her off and crawled to the opposite corner of the closet. I couldn’t stand looking at her anymore, so I curled up into a ball and buried my head into my chest.

“Leave me alone,” I said.

“Okay, I know you hate me and don’t want to be around me but I just wanted to give you something.”

I sighed. “Look, I don’t really hate you. I don’t even know you.”

I looked up at her and she held a large butcher’s knife. From the angle I lay, there was just enough light coming from the bottom of the door for her grin to reflect off the blade. There was a throbbing feeling in my hands that spread throughout my body, and each of my veins pulsed.

She was looking at me with the most sincere of smiles as she moved closer.

“Here,” she said, sitting the knife down.

I just stared at it. “Mom.” My voiced cracked and I rolled on my side, covering my face with my hands. The next thing I could remember was tears falling and falling, and I couldn’t breathe. “Please.”

“You have a mom?”

“Mom, why are you making me suffer?”

“Because she doesn’t love you.”

I felt my lungs collapsing and I pushed out an excoriating screech. “You love me, mom. Don’t you?” I waited. I swear I waited for ten minutes and when she didn’t respond, I screamed. “I know you hear me!”

“She can’t answer you, because she can’t hear you.”

“She can! Yes, yes she can!”

“Adam...Your mother can’t hear you. She can’t answer. She doesn’t love you-”

“She does! Yes, she does! She loves me!”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because they took her away from me. They were jealous. They wanted her powers.”

“What powers?”

“She created me.”

“It’s called child birth. You see, when a man loves a woman, he puts his penis inside her vagina-”

“No, not like that!”

“So she was a scientist and you are a test tube baby?”

I groaned, rubbing my forehead into the floor. “No, like she created me from her mind. Like she created the rest of the world.”

“Oh, so your mother is God?”

She laughed and every time I thought she was finished, she kept laughing and after a while, she stopped. She didn’t move or make a sound, and I thought she was gone until I looked up and I saw her dead eyes looking down at me.

“You’re crazy,” she said.

The entire night went by before we left. I couldn’t sleep. The girl who revealed herself as Roselle-Kim wanted me to kill myself. Somehow unaware of the many times I wanted to run into oncoming traffic. Like everything else in my life, I didn’t know why I felt such a terrible feeling, but I did and it never changed.

For a good part of the night, I sat without saying anything as she told me about the misadventures of some hero named The Bird. Apparently, the hero’s secret identity was so sacred I didn’t deserve to know, but an hour later, she revealed she was the criminal fighting hero who swung from rooftop to rooftop. I wasn’t sure if she meant to tell me or if it was a slip. Only thing I knew was she was crazy. The distant look in her eyes told me that much. But, I liked her company; it was nice. She called me a friend just before she cuddled under the coat and fell asleep. I never had a friend and the idea put a smile on my face until I glanced down at the knife at my feet, neither able to move to or from it.

…..

With a smirk, he looked up at my partner and me as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His dame, in the kitchen, balling her eyes out, wasn’t so fortunate to be as relaxed and stress-free. Thirty minutes prior, we had him handcuffed to the leg of his coffee table. Now, he was spinning the handcuffs around his index finger. He started whistling.

“What can I say,” the ritzy man in a black and red zoot suit said. “She got me. The dame had the best gams in town.”

“Where are the panties?” I asked, shoving my notepad into my inner coat pocket.

“I’m only going to talk to the doll, sorry sap.”

My partner grabbed him by his tie, slamming his face into the coffee table that separated them. The impact sent his straw boater hat up and into my hands. I admired it, smiling, and put it on.

“I think it suits me well,” I said, wiggling my shoulders.

“Give me my hat,” the man said, holding his now bruised cheek.

“Give us the panties.”

“Not to disappoint, but I don’t have ’em. See, my doll threw them out last night.” He leaned back onto the couch with a smirk, resting his hands on the back of his head. “She found them and started screaming about going to her mother’s. Some of this and some of that and next thing I know I’m watching my collection being thrown in the back of a garage truck.”

“I think you’re lying,” my partner said. “I think you’re covering for someone.”

He leaned forward and blew her a kiss. “Really? Who?”

“I…I...I don’t know, but I will find out. I promise...” She paused and just stared at the man.

To stare deep into the soul of a battered dame; the moment was hotsy-totsy from the drugstore cowboy. He blew a kiss.

“Now scam,” the man said.

I looked at my partner and when she looked at me, we gave one another a look that we both understood. We had nothing on him.

From that day, we were obsessed.

We left, but sat around the corner in our unmarked police car, watching the house. We stalked him from the shadows, tracing his every movement, through every cheap speakeasy and rundown dame’s house. He had a touch for temptation and trouble, and left a trail of fire behind him as he skirted away through the night. Like a moth to flames, fluttering around easy routines, he was predictable, except for one instance: feeling gutsy, he drunkenly stumbled into a pitch-black alley bearing the entire depths of Lucifer’s charred throat.

We stealthy slid, ducked and crept to the entrance of the alley. Not a single piece of light touched down on the secluded location forgotten by God’s appreciation.

I hated the alley. I didn’t know why, but I did. No, the feeling was not hatred; it was fear. I shook with chills and was so anxious that I couldn’t stand still.

“I’m not going,” I said.

“Why not? He is in there and we have to see why.”

“I-I-I just can’t.”

“You Jane.”

“I’m no Jane!”

“You know, I’ve known you for a couple months and all you have done is be a Jane. I’m starting to think you are the Panty-Snatcher.”

“You sap.”

“Exactly what a Jane says. Tell me, when you put on the panties, do you wear them and imagine what it’s like to have a vagina?”

She went to walk down the alley and I grabbed her hand and pulled her back.

“Look,” I said, “I know what’s down alleys like these and trust me you don’t want to see it! You people are so stupid. Can’t you clearly see that this isn’t something you should be playing with, but everything is a game, isn’t it? When is common sense going to come into play? When is intelligence even used with you dumb people?”

“Intelligence? Common sense? Like believing your mother created you in a Candy-land?”

I began to shake even more and sweat like a hog. Then I let out a loud scream. Nearly throwing her to the ground, I pulled her back as she attempted to go towards the alley’s opening once more.

“Don’t mock me,” I said.

“You make fun of yourself with silly stories. Grow up.”

The thought of the horrors that were in the alley left me trembling to a point I wanted to cry. I tried to be hard-boiled, but couldn’t. I tried to take a step forward, but my feet were dead and all I could do was rock back and forth.

“This is really pathetic,” she said.

She sighed, grabbed my hand and led me down the street. The entire time, I never raised my head and I just looked down at the concrete, figuring the caper would remain unsolved because I was scared. All I could think of was how much I was a disappointment. More was expected. With all the knowledge at my disposal, I was still an idiot.

Thousands of questions went through my mind. They were all in different languages and tone, but they all asked the same question: how could he show his face again to those who expect so little, yet judge a man every time he tries?

I angrily stomped at the images of myself that appeared on the ground. I winced, feeling every stern kick to the gut from my steel-toed boots; it was a well-deserved pain.

When we finally arrived home, everything was colored in a Sheba’s makeup; red and blue bounced off the stars, which shined just a little brighter than Roselle’s smile. She just laughed and laughed.

“Mystery solved,” she said.

“Is that?…No way…This is weird,” I said.

We watched the entire scene from across the street as all the other neighbors and even after everyone left, we stayed, watching torn spirit after battered soul disappear one by one with the Fuzz.

By sunrise, the house was empty.

The whole time Roselle simply repeated, “Mystery solved.”

….

For many this would be surreal. To look down on the earth from a galactic paradise would be years of dreams coming to pass. I never needed to depend on dreams. Life was always one in itself. Still, there was something about it; it was quite calming. Maybe it was the way the oceans glistened at a distance, how the stars shined around the earth or how darkness trapped them all. Whatever the reason, it felt great to escape.

I felt bad for everyone still there. Many of their dirty faces were probably how I remembered, glazing upon me when I stepped foot in that rocket ship and blasted off into space. They watched from behind a barricade and cussed as I walked through them. They envied me. They always have, but destroying their own lives upon initial creation and then quickly humanity itself, how could they expect to come into this new civilization? How could they demand my sympathy?

They don’t deserve it, I thought.

“Deserve what, Master Adam?” A robotic male voice said.

It was of my personal A.I., Allen, a blue sphere, floating above my head. He was not much, just your run of the mill artificial intelligence that maintained the functionalities of my body as well as my home. If the temperature did not suit me, Allen triggered a response in my synthetic suit, tailored specifically for me, to create either warmth or coldness-whichever was required. If hungry, he channeled my thoughts and instantly prepared the meal I wanted most. In other words, he was everything man could hope to be.

“Yes, Allen,” I said.

“That was not a proper response to my question, Master Adam,” he said. “Please rephrase your response.”

“Oh-hmmm...But you know what I meant tho.”

“Yes, I do. However, my linkage to your most inner thoughts doesn’t justify you being indignant and uncouth.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Apologies are for the weak left on earth. We make no mistakes here.”

“But-but everyone makes mistakes.”

“We don’t on Colony N.E. These mistakes, commonly seen on your planet earth, are just opportunities to grow.”

“I-I don’t get it.”

“I don’t expect you to. Now, Master Shaina has returned from her tennis tournament on earth. As the new addition to the family, it is wise to greet her. All information pertaining to you have been implemented into her thoughts and memories.”

My thoughts? I thought. My memories? My entire life was shared with a stranger without my approval.

I now had goosebumps and my heart raced.

“What did she say when she saw them?” I asked.

Allen lowered to my face. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? How could she not say anything? My life is the most interesting story she would ever hear. Maybe she did not hear it all.”

“Master Adam, I can assure you, Master Shaina received all intel regarding you. Upon receiving them, she said nothing.”

“Are you sure she didn’t say anything?”

“Yes, Master Adam.”

“What about a sound? Did she make a sound?”

“No.”

“A grunt, maybe? What about a gasp?”

“Such a divine narcissism doesn’t make you a God, Master Adam. All memories, though gravely distorted were transferred to your family. Master Shaina said nothing. Is your recollection chip broken? This response should not come by surprise.”

He recommended water and a few pills, since my suit transmitted my heart rate that increased. I barely knew what was happening. A tiny floating robot delivered me pills and water. The pills helped me relax and before I could utter a word, I dematerialized, reassembling in a long narrow hallway. Dematerializing felt amazing. It was like being in a Jacuzzi, right against a jet.

Arrogant was not a word to describe the hall; it reminded any visitors of the girl that lived there and how great she was. Why else would an entire hall have nothing but pictures, awards, trophies and letters? She was a future actress, doctor, scientist, and world tennis champion.

I get it, Shaina Nevill, you are amazing, I thought. I will make sure I call you if I ever wanted stimulating conversation about the multiple strains of flu over a set or two.

Like the home, she was beautiful, but rather obnoxious, because she used every chance she had to remind me how perfect she was.

Just how much useless crap does one self-conscious family need? I said to myself. The house was pretty much all gold and gems. Statues and paintings that had no meaning, except for being tasteless and sorry excuses of art, were everywhere. The worst thing was a rendition of The Last Supper; a lone brown bear sat upon the well-stocked table.

“Disgusting.”

From the first time I saw the family, I knew they were pretentious, wearing fur coats in the middle of the summer; it was a hundred degrees. I guess they wanted to remind us poor people where they came from, where they were going and where we would never be. They wanted to say they were better than we were without having to say the words, because then we would worship them.

You aren’t better than us just because you live on some fancy colony in space, I thought.

“Disgusting.”

At the end of the hallway was a digitized version of the almighty goddess, Shaina, next to a door. For the most part, it was realistic, and I only knew it was fake by the way it shined blue.

“Hello, Adam,” it said.

“Hi.”

“Shaina awaits you. You may enter.”

The door slid open and I walked inside. Shaina rushed me. She had a chipped wooden bat and she shoved the tip into my throat. She thrust the bat and I moved a little to the side and into the wall.

I couldn’t breathe. I tried to push the bat from my throat, but I couldn’t.

She could easily crush my windpipe and I knew that she knew she could by the way she smirked and looked at me. She lowered the bat. My mouth burst open and air ran into my lungs. The cool air was refreshing and cooled my lungs, which seemed to be on fire.

“What the heck was all that about?” I asked, holding my throat.

She waved her bat in my face and said, “See…See where not minding your business gets you? A bat to your throat. Do you like that? I’ll turn that Adam’s apple into apple sauce.”

“Your A.I. said you were expecting me.”

“That was then. This is now.”

“That was like five minutes ago!”

“A lot can change in five minutes.”

“Yeah, but changing your mind that quick seems kinda bi-polar.”

“An entire world could fall apart in seconds. So why is it so hard to believe that someone changed their mind in five?”

“I don’t know. You wanted me to see you.”

“So.”

“Yeah,” a male voice said. The voice came from the corner.

It was a heavyset boy, not much older than I was. He buttoned up his black leather pants and readjusted his white belt. I blushed and I looked back to Shaina.

She looked at the boy.

“Do you feel better?” She asked.

“No, but whatever, yo. It will do.” He moaned. “It was good none the less.” He pushed up his aviator sunglasses that sat all the way on the tip of his nose. He was grinning. Then he looked towards me with his head cocked to the side. “That is what happens in the hood, yo.”

“The…The hood?” I said. “Woodcrest is the hood?”

“Hell yeah, it’s the hood! Some say Compton, but I say Woodcrest! The scariest and most dangerous people in the world have more money than you can count. Didn’t you see what happened to your throat?”

I didn’t know such a peaceful place was the hood and it wasn’t. Yet, I figured I should just play along.

“Sorry,” I said, “gangster…gangster…gangster…Do you have a name?”

“Noel! And are you trying to be funny? I should…I should….I should bust yo head! Shaina show this groundie another thing or two!”

“Oh God no! Please!”

I shrieked, as I grabbed my throat and fell to the floor, where I curled up into a ball, figuring doing so would soften the pain of being stricken by a bat.

“Alright-Alright, that’s enough. Get up,” Shaina said. “So you’re Mona Lisa, himself?”

I hesitantly got up. She now walked up a long set of stairs without sides or rails, and sat on a wooden throne, her feet dangling off the side, in the middle of all these metals bars that made a circle around the throne. The relatively poor lighting of the room made it hard to see, but I noticed she only wore a lacey black lingerie set- I didn’t notice until now. The chaos before was too much to process anything except my desire to breath. She admired what looked like a handgun, but it was bigger and gray, with a barrel that narrowed into the size of a pen.

She closed one eye, as she aimed the gun at the wall; she was grinning.

“Uh, why do you have that?” I asked.

“Why do I have what?” She said, now twirling her long flowing hair.

“A gun.”

“Uhh...What are guns used for?”

“Killing? Stealing?”

“Exactly, we are going to rob a store,” Noel said, rubbing his hands together.

“What possible reason do you guys need to steal? You have enough money to buy anything?”

“What about good sex?”

“Huh?”

“Can our money buy good sex? I think not.”

“No, but you can’t get that from the store either!”

“You don’t know that!”

As I hectically detested, stuttering to explain I wanted nothing to do with armed robbery and questioning the whereabouts of her parents, she fired a shot. A blue ball of energy shot past me, blasting a hole in the wall. I couldn’t thank my mom enough that she missed, but I knew it was on purpose.

“Adam,” she said. “That was just a warning shot. Either play ball or next time I won’t miss.” She had this really sweet smile on her face. She was so beautiful.

“Hey, Shaina,” I said. “You are really beautiful.”

“Whoa. You can’t be hitting on my woman like that, yo,” Noel said.

“You two are…dating?” I shivered. “You two don’t match.”

“The hell you mean we don’t match?”

“Look at you.”

“What about me?”

“Look at her.”

He looked at Shaina. “Okay.”

I sighed. “Nevermind.”

“Babe and I are a perfect couple.”

If you say so, I thought.

Shaina snapped twice, and her A.I. appeared. In three additional snaps, a skin-tight leather suit, shiny and black, stretched across her long curvy body. She walked down the enormous steps, switching her hips, smirked, throwing on a happy-faced mask, and made her way out the door.

Chuckling and giggling, Noel followed behind her, looking back at me with a childish grin.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” I said.

….

I looked at Noel.

Sometimes at our most vulnerable state, we are at our strongest, I thought.

“Well,” Noel said and took a deep breath. He remained silent and avoided making any eye contact; he was content in staring into the sand that dug in between his toes. “My father is an alcoholic, but I guess everyone knows that.”

He chuckled. I felt he had to chuckle to keep himself sane more than anything else. Faint and quick, it ended almost as soon as he pushed it through the giant wad of spit caked in his throat. He had been trying to swallow it for the last minute or so without any luck; his throat moved up and down. Then he sighed.

“Well, here is something you may not know. He was also a sex addict. He would throw these wild sex parties. They would last for hours. Me and my sister would have to stay in our room. We could not even go to the bathroom until the party was over and sometimes that wasn’t until the next morning. This one time in particular, my sister had to pee really bad. I tried to tell her she couldn’t go, but she never really understood much, being retarded and all. When she left the room, I remember being crazy scared.”

“Why were you scared?” I asked.

“My dad is no saint, yo. I disobeyed my father once-I didn’t clean the bathroom before I went to sleep and he dragged me from bed and into the bathroom, yelling and screaming about how I didn’t listen. When I promised to clean it in the morning, he just snapped and beat the crap out of me with his belt. He just kept hitting me and hitting me, like I wasn’t his son, yo...Like he didn’t care that I could have died. I mean like, how can someone call himself a man and beat the shit out of a child like that? How can he call himself a father?”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do. If I could have found the words to ease his pain I would have said something, but all I could do was sit on the edge of the sandbox. “I’m sorry, Noel.”

“I felt sorry for my sister. She had to watch her father beat her older brother like he was an animal. That’s why I was so scared. If he saw her out of the room, I didn’t want to know what he would have done. Luckily, she came back, but something was off. She just looked at me and obviously, she had something on her mind. When I looked back at her, she blushed and quickly turned away. Then all of the sudden, she asked me probably the scariest question I ever heard in my life: Can we have sex? I yelled and told her no, but she kept crying and crying and I couldn’t make her stop.”

He looked up and he probably did so to see how I was reacting. In that short moment, where we connected eyes, I knew he was ashamed.

“Noel,” I said, cringing, “you didn’t… did you?”

“She wouldn’t stop crying, yo!” He kicked sand at me. “She saw some couple in the bathroom and said it sounded like it felt good. She said she felt ugly and knew I felt the same. Side note, she used to get sent home early from school all the time because the other kids made fun of her, calling her things like ‘little foot’ or ‘slanted face.’ I just wanted her to feel beautiful.” He paused, shaking his head. “During, she kept saying that she loved me. It was weird.”

He had nothing to say and neither did I; we simply stared up at the half-full moon, okay with the fact that neither of us had anything to say.

It was sweet. Weird, but sweet, but I couldn’t tell him that-it would sound condescending.

The longer we sat in silence the more uncomfortable he got, shifting more and more on the edge of the sandbox. Then he ran off.

“Noel, wait!” I said, running after him until I noticed he stopped under a streetlight on the corner of an intersection. He handed a clearly aged woman dressed in a trench coat a wad of cash and they disappeared somewhere past the basketball courts. “Pig.”

When I returned to the sandbox, I guess I expected Shaina to reply, because I looked at her as she lay in the exact spot where we found her four hours ago- on her back, lifelessly gazing into the stars. Her face wasn’t really visible because she had on a baseball cap. She wore an oversized turtleneck and baggy jeans.

It had been three days since I witnessed her death, I thought. Greater than death, blood still coursed through her body with life as the drug in her veins; as she lived, she had to fight through the pain. Since, she had lost herself. Her dedication, her will, her strength, her longsuffering were all gone and she was just broken. The last time I saw her, she was somewhat alive, in the same position as she was now: lying on her back. She was mumbling under her breath.

I did not know if she noticed me as I stood over her, because her eyes were glazed over. I wished I could have said something, but I couldn’t. My lips just trembled. I was scared that I would say something stupid, so I didn’t say anything at all and I figured it was better that way. What could I tell her? That I was sorry for what she had to go through, like apologies could take the pain away? That I wished I could have done more, when I did nothing in the first place? There was no reason to say anything. If I did, I knew it would have been a reminder of what she had been through. I didn’t go through anything that could compare.

Adam, I thought, slapping my forehead. Just say something, you idiot, I said to myself. Come on, don’t just stand there.

Then I finally said something. Like an idiot, I said, “Uh, hi.”

I’m an idiot, I thought.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

“I…I just wanted to see how you were doing since… you know?”

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be? Now leave me alone.”

She would not even look at me.

She does not think I care, I thought. She does not think anyone cares.

Mr. and Mrs. Nevill had never been the most caring of parents, but seeing how their only daughter had not spoken, eaten and rarely left her room in three days, and when she did, it was in a zombie-like appearance, I would have figured they would have noticed and paid attention. But all they saw was money.

“Why wouldn’t I care,” I asked.

“Because no one does. People may act like they do, but they don’t. They put on a smile to get close to you and then they hurt you.”

She sat up, with her entire backside dripping with sand, and I could see her eyes; they were baggy and blood shot. There was a knife, covered in dried blood, lying where she once had lay and I grabbed her arm, feeling that her shirt’s sleeves where soaked in blood.

“Shaina,” I said.

“And now you are judging me.”

“I’m-I’m not judging…I just understand how you’re feeling.”

“You understand? You don’t understand anything about what I am feeling, Adam! So please, don’t act like you do! Just keep your pity and do me a favor and leave!”

She lay back down and stared up into the sky. It was almost a safe haven, and I knew exactly how she felt, because looking up at the stars always helped calm me down.

“No, I don’t understand what that man did to you,” I said and then winced. “But I do understand you want to die. I know what it is to be alone. I feel it every day. I will leave you alone if you truly want me to, but I’m not going until I tell you that I care. I care even if you don’t care about yourself…Even if you don’t believe me.”

“Do you really care, Adam?”

“I do.”

“Do you really?”

“Yes. I always have.”

“Then do me a favor.”

“Anything.”

“If you really care about me, would you prove it?”

“Duh. Of course, I would. Just tell me what I need to do and I will prove it to you.”

“Would you kill the guy who did this to me? Would you do it, Adam?”

She sat up, crying. I never saw her cry before; it was surreal and uncomfortable. The girl who prided herself in strength and called anyone who cried weak, was crying. And whether she was serious, or whether she was caught in the emotions of the moment, I agreed, simply nodding my head. The simple and noble or complex and twisted act made her smile, which quickly turned into a sweet giggle.

“You’re such an idiot,” she said.

“Yeah…I am.” I blushed and looked away.

“But it’s cute though. Tell me, why would you agree to do something like that? What if I was serious?”

“There are a million reasons why I agreed.”

“Tell me one.”

“Well, first off, I’m pretty stupid.”

“Don’t say that. You are far from stupid.”

“The second reason is that you are my sister.”

Friend zoned yourself, I said to myself. Great job, Adam. Really great job.

I could have went on, telling her a bunch of stupid things, but then I just said, “Because I love you.”

Neither of us could speak. At first, I was content in the fact that neither said a word. I didn’t have to face the words I just said. That’s why I refused to look at her, but the awkwardness of silence drove me crazy and I looked up. She had this really huge smile on her face. Although she was always beautiful, she was breathtaking when happy.

Then she got up and kissed me and in that moment, I knew she felt what I did: loneliness lifting from our bodies.

Noel had returned just as we kissed and just watched us.

“Oh La-La, I guess everyone got lucky tonight,” Noel said, while scratching his crotch. “I’ll let it slide this time because I’m feeling good. Next time you touch my woman, Adam, I’m going to kick your ass.”

“You are a pig,” Shaina said, moving from my arms as I tried to pull her closer and then she lay back into the sand.

“And you love it the most, baby.” He winked and blew a kiss. “So you cabbages, I told you guys my secret, time for you two to confess.”

I sat down next to Shaina, who rolled onto her side and closed her eyes.

He was right. We did agree to tell each other our secrets and since I knew both of theirs, I needed to tell them something, but wondered if they would believe me if I said I had no secrets? They wouldn’t and I would surely come off as a jerk if I didn’t tell them something. So I lied, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

“I killed a man.”

As soon as I uttered the words, I couldn’t breathe, and my throat tightened as both Shaina and Noel turned to me, giving me their undivided attention. Shaina rolled her eyes and chuckled.

“You are such a liar, Adam,” she said.

“I’m not lying!”

“You’re the kid that cried when a beetle landed on you,” Noel said. “I’m willing to bet my life’s savings you haven’t killed anyone.”

“You don’t know my life, Noel.” I kicked up sand with the heel of my shoe and stuck out my lips. “And Beetles are gross.”

“We are just teasing, Adam,” Shaina said. “Lighten up. But we should let him tell his story, Noel. He did not interrupt you when you were telling us how you were balls deep in your sister.”

“Fine, Mr. Voorhees, proceed with your story,” Noel said.

“My mother-She was sick a lot. Most days she was in bed sleeping, so I would go out and buy the groceries and stuff. The store I would go to was this hole in the wall dump. The people were always sketchy, old and appeared to be without hope most of the time. I hated going in. I would always have to pick myself up by my bootstraps before I walked inside. The owner was this old paranoid man, always looking around for something that was never there. This one time I went to buy baking soda; I handed him money and as I went to leave he started yelling and screaming at the top of his lungs like a mad man, talking about I was trying to steal from him.”

“That’s how you do it, groundie!” Noel said. “Don’t pay for anything.”

I looked over to Shaina and she was lying in the fetal position with her arms around her body. I held her hand and when she felt my touch, she looked up and I smiled, and then she held my hand back.

It was weird, the more I talked, the less of a lie the story felt, though deep down I knew it was fake. Each word I said felt sincere and they flowed from my lips; it made me second-guess my entire life, and I thought over and over to make sure this really didn’t happen. Obviously, it didn’t.

“He chased me from the store with a crowbar and half way down the street, he just freezes. After a few seconds, he just kicks over and dies.”

“Aww man, you didn’t kill anyone. He just had a heart attack or something,” Noel said.

“So?” Shaina said. “That could still be traumatic for him.”

It was traumatic indeed, I thought.

My heart was now pounding like it wanted to rip out my chest and my stomach felt as if I digested blades. My mind was even more anxious, throbbing from the many thoughts I was trying to sort in my head. I kept asking myself, “Why? Why did you tell that story?”

It was not true. It was not true at all. You need to calm down, I thought. I need to calm down before I give myself a heart attack, I told myself. I coached myself through this panic attack, telling myself to breathe all while I wished Allen were there with all those pills I had grew dependent on. Then, I calmly inhaled and exhaled.

Noel kicked sand at us, laughing as we jumped up, trying to get all the tiny grains from our eyes.

“But ain’t nobody talking traumatic,” he said. “We are talking biggest-darkest secrets and watching an old man croak isn’t a secret, yo!”

“Sorry, that’s the only thing I can think of,” I said.

“Really? You don’t have no skeletons in your closet?”

“No.”

“Not even a single bone?”

“No, I swear.”

“Not even a teeny weenie piece of the smallest bone in your body?”

“No.”

“Damn, you are pathetic.”

So pathetic he belittled my entire life by laughing. The longer he laughed the more mocking and hurtful it really was.

Shaina grabbed my hand and smiled, but I looked up and frowned.

“So I’m pathetic because I didn’t have sex with my sister?” I asked.

“No, bitch,” Noel said, “you are pathetic because you are crying!”

“I’m not crying! I’m just upset that’s all!” I ran my sleeve across a stream of tears falling down my face. Repeatedly, I told myself to stop crying, but I didn’t listen. I only managed to cry more for some reason. I swear I’m a loser, I thought.

Then Shaina threw a handful of sand at Noel as he laughed. It went into his mouth and he hacked and gagged.

“He said stop, you ass!” She said.

Noel spat a good piece of caked up sand from his mouth, onto the ground as he rubbed his blood shot eyes.

“Make me,” he said.

“You know you are a jerk, right?”

“And you…you know you changed? Get over it, yo! It happened! Don’t let stupid shit get to you like this! It will only ruin you. Don’t let it do that. Please don’t let it do that. You’ll never be the same again, if you do.”

Shaina threw a handful of sand at Noel. Then another and another, as she screamed at the top of her lungs like she was possessed. I started to think she was, because her eyes looked empty and she really wasn’t looking at Noel anymore. Instead, she was looking through him.

“You idiot! Why? Why do you have to be so stupid? You never listen. You never freaking listen! Never! Even when you knew better! You deserve it! You deserved it! You freaking idiot you deserved everything that happened to you!”

Then she fell to her knees, crying. It was hard to see her like that. If I could have taken all of her pain, I would have taken it all, so she never had to suffer- so she never had to feel this type of confusion again. I would have taken all her sadness and so would have Noel. As soon as she fell, we ran to her, embracing her in our arms. Together, we all just cried. We cried, okay in the fact that in that particular moment we were weak.

When you have friends who won’t take advantage of you, it’s okay to drop your walls, I said to myself.

Ten minutes passed before we got up and then realized we weren’t alone. Roselle, perched like a bird watched us from on top of the nearby jungle gym. The only reason I knew it was her was the silly outfit- the black tights, a long sleeve black shirt and a peacock mask.

Noel shrieked. “Who in the hell is that?”

“The Bird,” I said, squinting. “Is that really you?”

“Yes, it’s me,” Roselle said.

“What-what are you doing here? How did you find me? This is unreal. I haven’t seen you since that night. I fell asleep and when I woke up, you were gone.”

“I’ve been following you.”

“For two years?”

“Just about.”

She hopped to the ground and I rushed over to her with open arms. She was the same Roselle I knew two years ago. She did not express the slightest glimpse of emotion. For the most part, she was simply there. Her arms stayed at her side as I nearly crushed her, but she never as much as let out a squeal.

“It’s so good to see you,” I said.

“I have something to show you.”

I pulled my head from resting on her cold shoulder. “What?”

“Follow me…You too Shaina and Noel.”

“Holy shit, yo. How do you know my name?” Noel asked.

She did not answer. All she did was grab my hand, digging her long nails into my wrist, and pulled me several blocks through streets that become more familiar. They stirred a pot of bad feelings.

I was nauseated. I wanted to vomit out my intestines. The more we walked the less air I took in and I breathed heavily.

“Let me go, Roselle!” I said. I tried my hardest to pull away, pushing and pulling, but her grip was too tight.

“You are anxious,” she said. “I knew this would happen.”

“A, yo, Adam, what’s wrong, yo?” Noel said.

“Adam cannot tell you what is wrong. He does not remember.”

“What doesn’t he remember?” Shaina asked.

“Some stupid old alleyway we went to two years ago,” I said. “It was dark and I was scared to go down. See, I remember! Now make fun of me all you want! Ha-Ha-Ha! Adam’s scared of the dark, very funny!”

“It is kinda funny,” Noel said.

“What about before that?” Roselle asked. “Two years ago, me and Adam were investigating an international terrorist, The Panty-Snatcher, and we tracked him to this location. As Adam already said, he was scared to go down the alley, but not because it was dark.”

Shaina giggled. “The Panty-Snatcher? Was it Noel?”

“Shut up,” Noel said, shoving Shaina.

“Get over yourself, Roselle!” I yelled. “It was dark and I was scared, point blank period.”

It was then we stopped at the entrance of the alleyway. All eyes were on me, except for Roselle, who aimlessly stared down the alley. Attached to her hip was a flashlight, and she grabbed it, turned it on and shoved it into my hands.

“No excuses,” she said. “Go.”

“I don’t want to,” I said.

“Adam, go or I will drag you.”

“But-”

“You have to face your fears eventually.”

“Adam,” Shaina said, “we’ll be right here.”

I was shaking like crazy, but I nodded; my neck was creaking and barely able to turn. Taking a large breath, I held it for as long as could, placing one foot in front of the other, but no matter how easy it was in my head, I could not move.

“I can’t... I just can’t,” I said. My eyes were now heavy.

Shaina stood beside me, holding my hand.

“Adam,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Yeah, yo…All the color has been sucked out of you,” Noel said.

“This is what’s wrong,” Roselle said.

She disappeared down the alley. After about a minute, she returned, guiding a woman, who wore a filthy T-shirt and jeans. The woman shuffled, barely picking up her feet as she moaned and had the reddest eyes I had ever seen. Seeing her like this again drained every ounce of hope, joy and energy from my body. She wasn’t beautiful anymore. She was disgusting. I hated seeing her like that. I always did.

“Mom,” I said.

And although my ears were ringing from the echoes of sirens, screams, cries and bullets, I heard Noel whisper, “I thought his mom was dead?”

“That’s what he said-That’s what Nyx showed me in his memories,” Shaina said.

“She is,” I said, looking at my mom.

“Since that night, I dedicated my life to finding out why you were so afraid. I found out a day later. I just didn’t know how to tell you,” Roselle said.

She did not know how to tell me my mother was a strung out addict, I thought. There was nothing to tell, I knew- I had to know. All the needle marks on my arms made sure I knew every night. They ruined my life. They ruined my dreams. I looked at them and couldn’t help but to hate myself.

I lunged and grabbed the knife hanging on Roselle’s hip, dropping to the ground. Then I began sawing at my left forearm. It was a butter knife, so the blade wasn’t sharp and made it difficult to break the skin, but I applied more force until I saw blood. Noel and Shaina restrained me.

In the split second, where everything stopped-our hearts, minds and expectations-I heard faint cries and tears slapping against the pavement. I thought they were just mine until a tiny hand touched my shoulder, caressing it. I stopped fighting and just froze.

It was Roselle and as we connected eyes, I realized she was also crying, but it was soft and I couldn’t see any tears because her mask

“Why are you crying?” I said.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Because you are crying.”

“I just want to die.”

“Me too.”

I snatched away, grabbed her by her shoulders, and began shaking her uncontrollably. “Are you stupid? Why would you say such a thing? Tell me what would make you want to kill yourself?”

I watched her head snap back and forth, and it felt like I had no control over what I was doing. Shaina and Noel tried to pull me away from Roselle, but they couldn’t and I kept shaking her.

Then I stopped when I heard her shriek; she sounded like a mouse.

She was crying. Now she was loud and there were tears running down her face. I let her go.

“I’m-I’m-sorry,” I said.

How did I lose control of myself like that? What was that monster I became in that split moment?

I didn’t feel like me, but instead I felt a fire building inside of me that could have easily caused so much harm. She could’ve been hurt or worse, killed. I thought about how the next time I might not hear her screams or worse, the next time I may not care.

She must have noticed my disappointment, because she stopped crying and took a step forward. As she was in arm’s length, I slowly backed away from her. She took another step forward and I moved back.

“It’s okay, you were angry; you didn’t want me to kill myself. I know you didn’t wish to harm me,” she said.

“No…That just further proves that I need to die.”

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” She spoke so softly. Then she took off her mask and threw it on the ground. Her eyes bulged and she stomped. “Why do you keep doing this to yourself, you idiot?” She was screaming-I never heard her scream before. “You coward! Why do you wish to kill yourself so bad! You don’t want to be my friend?”

“No, Roselle. I want to be your friend-”

“Then why do you want to leave me so bad?” She calmed down, sitting on the ground and pouted.

“I-I-I don’t…”

“Come on, yo. Your mom is a drug addict, so what?” Noel said, throwing his hand on my shoulder. “My dad is an alcoholic and abusive as shit. Shaina’s parents might-as-well be drug addicts, because they are freaking terrible.” He looked at Shaina. “Sorry, babe.”

Shaina shrugged. “What can I say, it’s true. Who am I to resist?”

“Everybody’s parents are screwed up. We can’t do anything to change that, but we make sure we are better than them.”

“Yeah,” Shaina held my hand. “Life isn’t about dwelling on the past. You do and you’ll be miserable until you die. Life may suck at times, but that’s what makes it so great. We take our past and focus on making the best of the future.”

Roselle refused to look at me; I wouldn’t look at myself either. Then she looked up at me with a corky and awkward smile. I loved it when she smiled. I helped her up from the ground. Shaina took my hand. Noel took hers. Hand to hand, we walked down the street. Anytime, I felt weak, feeling the urge to look back, they somehow knew and glanced at me with a reassuring smile.

“Hey Adam,” Roselle said. “Tell us about Candy-Land.”

“Yeah, tell us what the wildest thing your mom ever created,” Shaina said.

“Ooh, I bet it was something badass like a unicorn with three heads or a cowboy zebra that hands out free coupons for the Pizza Plaza,” Noel said.

“What?” Roselle, Shaina and I asked.

I smiled.

In life, we are all birds, so small in this giant and complex world, but we all have the wings to fly and proudly write our names and stories in the sky, because it’s our world to create the perfect Eden from the most randomness situations and I love it, yo, I thought.