The Illusion of Separation

I was always afraid of the dark.

Christofer knew this. He made fun of me all the time. It seemed to be one of his favorite things to do, to make fun of me until my face turned pink and I turned away from him, pissed off and promising never to talk to him again. He liked that I acted like a thirteen-year-old when I did that, and he thought it was cute. I was secretly thrilled that he would say that, but I'd never tell him. I figured he knew already, but just in case he found it really cute that I was offended, I wouldn't say it to him. He made fun of me for so many things. My fear of the dark. Me not being a vegetarian. The fact that when I saw one ant, I was fine and would squish it with my thumb but when I saw a swarm I felt so sick that I usually puked, and that was true with pretty much any bug. My fear of getting into water that I didn't know was clean or not, like the random ponds located around the town. I was too afraid of stepping on some kind of nasty...well, I didn't know what, and that's why I kept myself away. Once after Criminal Law class and learning about the Green River Killer, I even started getting paranoid that there was a dead body under the water and I'd end up stepping on the soft, decayed face, and that would traumatize me beyond belief. Chris just laughed it off and told me I was being stupid. It should have pissed me off that he'd say something like that, but I was used to him being blunt. He said what was on his mind and didn't worry much about how it affected people.

It had been a week since Christofer had died. I'd kept up my facade of being fine around my dad, although it wasn't much work because Chris was still here. He could breeze by my dad, even make fun of him, and my dad wouldn't know it. He could waltz in, make out with me right in the kitchen, and the only thing we had to worry about was that my dad would come in and see me kissing air, in which case he'd probably just think I was being crazy, or going insane because Chris had died. He'd never guess that Chris was right there.

Chris and I were out on the porch. Once again, my dad was out with some of his friends and had left me alone here. I was ecstatic. Chris and I could be together without having to worry on him walking in on me talking to myself, or something of the sort. Chris had his arms wrapped around me and our cheeks pressed together. We were looking up at the stars, which were much more visible than I imagined they would be in the city. Mom had never seen something like this up North, I was sure. "They're beautiful," I whispered, rubbing his back.

"They are," he agreed. He didn't give me a 'but not as beautiful as you'. He wasn't that kind of boy. I wasn't sure if he was too dense to realize that was an opening for a compliment (which I wouldn't doubt) or if he just didn't like cliches, but he didn't use them. Sure, he used them in his songs, but then again he couldn't be creative all the time, and sometimes he had to turn to cliches to make things rhyme. I didn't mind. I knew he was thinking it. I knew how he felt about me, so it didn't feel selfish to know he was thinking I was beautiful in his mind. Because he was. We'd gotten to the point where we didn't even need to tell each other how beautiful the other was all the time because it was just an unspoken.

"I missed you," I told him.

"Missed you, too." He kissed my cheek gently, like feathers. After almost losing him, it was a very welcome gift. I brought my fingers up into his hair and ruffled it a bit, then settled for just playing with it like he said his mother did. He hummed part of one of his songs in happiness and I swear it felt like there was sunshine in my heart and in my stomach. How could life be even better? Only by having Chris alive again, but here he was, as good as alive to me. "Y'know what I was thinking when I was about to get hit by that car?"

"You remember?"

"Only a little, but yeah. I was thinkin', 'Awh, shit, I'm not gonna get to see Hannah again.'"

I snorted. "You were not."

"Sure, I was."

"No. You had to be thinking of, like, your mom or dad or something. Or Carter. Or David or Sarah or Hannah. Not me."

"What, you thought I meant you-Hannah?" He laughed. "Psh, nah. I was thinking of my sister all the way."

I cannot even begin to explain how stupid I felt right then. "Shit."

He laughed again. "Hannah, I'm kiddin'. You're the Hannah I was thinking about. I mean, yeah, I should have been thinking about my family." He counted Carter as his family, so it didn't sound nearly as insensitive as it should have when he left Carter out. "But, I mean, I just came home from your house. You were still in my head. I was thinkin' about what a great time we had the night before, and so when I saw the lights it was all, 'No, Hannah's gonna miss me so much.'"

He was quiet then. It must have been horrible to remember getting hit by a car. I prayed that he'd never remember the part after he'd been hit, because the way it had been described, he'd be going through hell again. I couldn't even begin to imagine drowning in my own blood. Even the thought of it made me wince. Thankfully, Chris didn't notice. I was pretty sure he didn't know the details of how he'd died since he didn't remember and he hadn't seen a paper yet, that I knew of. "Well, that's so sweet of you, Chris. I thought about you all night."

"Smelling the sex sheets?"

Guiltily, I said, "...yes."

We laughed together, ending at the exact same time. We must have subconsciously memorized how long the other person usually laughed. It pleased me to be that in tune with Chris. A lot of girls weren't nearly as in tune with their boyfriends. I remember a few days ago when Dorothea came over with her boyfriend, Steve, and they seemed like they were on two entirely opposite planets. They barely even looked at each other, it was so uncomfortable. Steve adored Dorothea, that much was obvious, but she acted like he wasn't even there. That's how it had always been between them. She was busy as hell and he was just trying to keep up. He wasn't the kind of romantic boy that girls fell for. He was a science geek and even though she had an element of science geek in her as well, that was about the only thing they had in common. Steve couldn't impress her for the life of him, and she didn't see how crazy he was over her. "Boyfriend" seemed to be more of a casual term than something they really meant.

I was glad I wasn't falling all over Chris like Steve was over Dorothea. It felt good to know he was just as interested in me as I was in him. "It doesn't matter if you were smelling the sex sheets or not," Chris said, "because I know you'd be thinking about me even if you weren't smelling the sex sheets. Right? 'Cause you can't stand not thinking about me."

"Mhm," I said happily. "You'd be the number-one thing on my mind."

"Of course I would," he said, and hugged me tighter. Just as suddenly, he let me go and started running across the lawn. I stared after him until I realized that he wanted me to chase him. He turned around and grinned, that amazing smile with the rows of white teeth that made his whole face light up. "Come on, Hannah! Catch me!"

This was where me being afraid of the dark came in. All that had been on was our porch light, and it had been scary enough sitting there on the porch. I'd been able to keep myself from thinking about it with Chris next to me, but now he was running towards the street and I was beginning to get a little scared of the darkness in between the trees and surrounding the lawn. I could envision serial killers hiding in the dark, ones that would attack me and tie me up and then cut off all my arms and legs, or...well, whatever was hiding in the darkness. Whatever it was, I wasn't looking forward to sticking around.

"Chris!" I whined. "Come on, that's not fair!"

He laughed from somewhere far away.

"Chris, please! You know how much I hate the dark!"

"You know how much I hate milk!"

"What? What the fuck? Since when did I ever force you to have milk?" Because I hadn't, and so his argument was completely invalid. I must have looked like an angry wife, standing there on the porch with my hands on my hips, yelling at Chris. Good thing no one else was around in the middle of the night in a small Missouri town. I was betting everyone was asleep by now, and the teenagers, who assumed they were too cool to sleep, were all out at Waffle House or at the mall a few miles away.

I sighed and began to chase after him, trying to keep the dark in the back of my mind. It was the only way he was going to come back because knowing him he'd run all the way across the country before he caved in. I'd just made it to him, since he'd gone easy on me and slowed down the closer I got, when he took off again. I was just about to go after him again but suddenly I heard him crash into something and fall to the ground, and then Carter's voice snapped, "Watch where you're going."

"Carter?" I squeaked.

He didn't answer. As I came closer I could see him a little better, and he was staring at Chris on the ground who hadn't bothered to get up. Carter's eyes were wide, and as I watched, his hands shook a little.

"Carter," Chris said. "Carter, you can see me, can't you? You...you always could."

Carter looked at me and then turned around and ran.