Winter Wakes

My knees were hugged tightly to my chest as I sat watching Simon pick at the collar of his white shirt. Those answers I had been told I would get? Yeah, he hadn’t said anything, and I had been sitting here for at least ten minutes. The only thing that had happened thus far was him shushing me every time I opened my mouth. The only thing I was learning was that he was the most pretentious asshole I’d ever met.

It was getting to a point where I wanted to snap. I couldn’t help wondering what had happened while I hadn’t been in control of my body. It was almost driving me insane. I had already picked the jade color off three of my ten nails; that was a good sign of my irritation.

“You better—“

“Shh!”

“IsItReallyThatHardToStopBeingADickAndJustTellMe?” I fired that off, ignoring the persistent sounds of him trying to quiet me. I glared acidly at him, my hands clenched into fists. Luckily my reflexes were good enough for them to shoot up in time to defend my face from the book that was chunked at me from across the room.

I’d never imagined my large collection of books would be used as tools to abuse me. I briefly glanced down to see my worn copy of And Then There Were None lying on the mattress beside me. Strange, I was expecting something larger and possibly in hardback. Those do more damage you know.

“Would you stop that already?” I hissed angrily.

“If only you could learn to be patient,” He sighed as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall next to the bookcase.

“I’ve been waiting for ten minutes, and you haven’t said anything!”

He gave me a stoic look before turning his attention to his nails. Weirdo.

“Yes, well, I was debating where to start,” Simon replied calmly.

“How about the part where—“

Gary Jules’ Mad World started playing from my vanity. Simon and I both looked over simultaneously; luckily I was the only one who made a move. I stumbled slightly as I attempted to reach my phone, which amazingly hadn’t gone off in the past twenty-four hours except for now. I didn’t bother to look at the caller ID before I flipped it open; I’d give anything for a conversation with anyone besides ghost-boy here.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Maggie?”

I breathed a sigh of relief, “Darren, hey, what’s up?”

Darren was my boyfriend of a year and a half. We’d met, as sad as this sounds, at his grandmother’s funeral two years ago. Him being a cute, grief-stricken guy, I easily found an excuse to give him my phone number, explaining if he ever needed anyone to talk to about his grandmother’s death he could always call me. It was only after that I found out we went to the same school, and somehow ended up dating him.

“Nothing much babe, Halo. How was the funeral service and shit?”

I tried not to laugh as I glanced over at Simon who was watching me with curiosity.

“Um, painful.”

He chuckled into the phone, “Aren’t they always? Anyhow it sucks you missed the movie last night. You busy tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday, right?” My attention had shifted slightly from the phone conversation over to the blonde boy in my bedroom who appeared to be comparing the weight between the two biggest books on my bookcase. I had a bad feeling about that.

“Yeah, babe. You sound distracted, are you okay?” I faintly heard a trace of concern in his question. I was still too preoccupied by the fact that I was going to have a large book chunked at me in the not so distant future.

“I’m fine, really. And yeah, I’m free tomorrow. But I gotta go, Dad’s calling.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, “Oh, okay. Um, just call me tomorrow then?”

By this point Simon had placed the dictionary back on the shelf, instead opting for the compilation of The Chronicles of Narnia. Oh shit, I knew that was going to hurt. I watched him smirk as his bright eyes settled on me with an eerie kind of anticipation.

“Yeah, um, gotta go now, bye!” I quickly called into the phone as I began shifting towards my closet.

“I lo—“

I snapped the phone shut as I dove into my closet, managing to pull the door closed just as a loud “thwack!” shook the wooden barrier. I exhaled as I realized I’d beat him at his painful game of dodge ball for once. Somehow I managed to pull myself upright off of my many shoes in the small space using the door handle. Unfortunately, when I jiggled said handle, nothing happened.

I groaned, letting my head fall forward against the door with a thud, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Simon!”

“Yes?”

I jumped slightly at the sound of his voice which was in the same confined space as I was. Of course I didn’t get a chance to turn around as my arms were pinned behind my back with an icy grip and I was shoved forward into the door.

“Um, ouch?” I growled in frustration. I should have known the closet was a bad idea. I probably would have been better off getting hit by the fifty pound book.

“Looks like we’re playing seven minutes in heaven,” He breathed into my ear. I shivered.

“Don’t you mean hell?” I felt his grip on my already bruised wrists tighten at that.

“Who is Darren?”

Did it really matter to him? “My boyfriend.”

He scoffed behind me, “Wait, you’re telling me someone actually wanted to date you? Does he look like Shrek?”

Why was he the only figure that could cause my blood to boil so much? What had I done to deserve this kind of taunting? He had been nicer earlier, after I’d woken up. Why was he mad now? Why was he picking on me like this again?

“What? Not saying anything because it’s true?”

“I’m not saying anything because I thought you might leave me alone that way,” I stated as I tried to jerk my arms out of his grip. “Why are you so cruel anyway? It’s not like it’s my fucking fault you’re dead you know.”

I did it; I dropped the d-bomb. I internally cursed myself, preparing for further violence as a reaction. Strangely nothing came, instead I suddenly found the cold pressure pinning me to the door gone, and whatever had been holding the door closed was also apparently removed. I figured that one out as I face planted into the hardwood floor of my room. I sat up on my knees, rubbing my forehead. I guess that was better than what he could have done.

“I took over your body.”

I blinked a few times before looking up to find Simon on the opposite side of the room with his back to me.

“Instead of colliding with you, I went into you. Don’t ask me how it happened, I don’t understand it myself.” The iciness in his tone bothered me. I would have much preferred him teasing me over this. I don’t know why I thought that, or why this cold side of him unsettled me more than the violent side. It was down right ridiculous. “But yes, your father was right. I talked to my mother while I was in control of you.”

“What did you say to her?” I asked softly as panic began to resonate from the corners of my mind. What was he thinking?

“She knows you can see me, and believes it,” He replied distantly. “As for what else we discussed, I don’t feel like talking about that at the moment. You’ll know soon enough.”

I knew better than to press the issue any farther than this, I didn’t want to push him over the edge. Not in this state at least. I was scared to know what he could do when he was like this. The quiet side of him frightened me more than the part of him that threw books at me and intentionally gave me nightmares. It seemed as though like this he was trying his best to keep something under control. I didn’t want to know what would happen if he lost that.

“Why are you dead, exactly?” Unfortunately my mouth and my thoughts didn’t always coincide. That had slipped out before I’d had a chance to process what exactly was being said. Luckily my body had started making its way back into the closet without me having to think too much about it.

“We’re not going to talk about that.”

I stopped, realizing he hadn’t moved from where he stood to commit a violent act, nor for some reason, did I think he was going to.

He turned to face me then, but didn’t look at me. Instead he strode right past where I sat on the floor, “I’m going out.”

“Are you coming back?” Again, my mouth fired against my will. I really needed to do something about that.

He stopped then, and turned slightly to look at me. I couldn’t ignore the pained expression that covered his face, or the fact his eyes appeared to be dull with defeat and sadness. Was this the expression he had worn in the graveyard when he had pleaded with me for help? As much as I wanted to, I found it difficult to admit I hated him with such a look on his face. It made my heart sink.

“Where the hell else do I have to go?”

I remained on the floor after his figure had vanished through the wall. It was the same tone I’d heard from him only once before, meaning he’d more than likely worn that same expression once before. I wanted to know what had happened to a boy like him to make him act that way. But I also knew that what I had just seen was the face hidden beneath all of the violence and anger he always displayed.

Without too much thought, I picked up the large book he had thrown at me a few minutes before and placed it back on the bookshelf. My finger tips ran lightly across the spines of the books that lined the shelf. Three expressions of the same face danced through my mind. What had taken the smiling college boy and turned him into the broken figure that now took his place?

Another question I felt that may be related to that pulled its way forward for the second time; just why was he dead?