Mad Like Me

Disillusion – act of freeing from illusion, which is from the Latin illusionem: a mocking irony

Yay, it’s my cat’s birthday! I should give her some treats! Oh, wait, I can’t, because I’m locked up in the loony bin. Last night was particularly bad. I don’t even want to talk about it. More when I get back from Group.

Today’s Group was a lecture about why it’s important to let our feelings out in a nonviolent way. I heard a rumor that this was directed at Willow, who got in a fight last night. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her for a while. I assumed she was busy. Apparently she was.

Lunch. Yay!

What. The. Hell. God is laughing his head off right now, I’m sure of it, but that helps me none because I’M NOT LAUGHING! THANKS GOD! I am seriously considering becoming one of those people who thinks that the Big Man is actually Satan. I’ve never been religious anyway, so it wouldn’t be a stretch.

I shall recap lunch’s events: Jay came to sit next to me, muttering something about being laughed at. I didn’t push the issue, he seemed pretty angry. But I had to ask…

“So why are you here, anyway?” I asked. “You seem pretty normal. I told everyone why I’m here. What about you?”

Jay looked paralyzed for a moment, then slumped his shoulders.
“The official reason is my ‘emotional instability’.”
“Small words, please.” I ought to have done research on mental illnesses and learned about my people, but it never occurred to me. Even though I love words, this was gobbledygook.

Wordlessly Jay held out his arm. I didn’t realize what I was supposed to look at until I noticed them. The raised white lines crisscrossing his wrist. And a long, red line running the length of his forearm. I drew away.

“You tried to kill yourself?”

This may come as a shock to you, but I actually spent a day googling ways to commit suicide. I learned that it’s easier to kill yourself by cutting a vertical line down your arm than it is by slitting your wrists. Although both are very bad.

“Yeah. It began when I started slitting my wrists, but one day it was just too much and I couldn’t help myself. Of course, I think that’s only half the reason DD – that’s Daddy Damnedest abbreviated – and the Stepmonster wanted me here. Ever since they found out about my boyfriend, they’d been on my case more than usual.”

Again, the words made no sense.

“Boyfriend?”
“Yeah. They found out about me liking guys, and they flipped out. They made me break up with him. That and all the bullying at school is what pushed me over the edge.”
“You like guys?” I asked, most likely with a dumbstruck expression.
“Yeah. You didn’t know? I would assume that the others would’ve told you by now.”

Everything was so clear now. Why hadn’t I seen this before? The slightly high voice, the kindness to an outcast like me, the adorable way he crossed his legs when he sat down. The one person that could have made this better by becoming my boyfriend would never fall for me. “Just friends” was nice and all, but I’d wanted more! Why must the cute ones be gay?

Just as I was about to fall over in an overly-dramatic catatonic stupor, I heard a voice screaming in my ear. An obnoxious, faux-British voice.

“Cat!” cried Luna. “What’s wrong? You look funny. Like, green or blue or something. Helloooo? Do you hear me?”

“Shut up!” I hissed, whacking her with the back of my hand. I took a deep breath and started to count backwards from ten in Spanish. Once I was suitably relaxed, I looked back up at Jay.

“That’s cool,” I said, nodding. “Yeah. Cool. Different. I like it.”

He let out a breath that I hadn’t realized he was holding and smiled.

“Good,” he said. “I’m glad you’re not like some people.” He glanced over at one of the other tables. The Satan-worshipper was sitting there, along with a few others I didn’t know. Something clicked in my head.

“Is that why you’re sitting over here now?” I asked. “Because they tease you too much?”

“Yeah. You’d think that being different would have given them some tolerance. But no. They have nothing of the sort. And may I add that their comments aren’t very imaginative. I mean, if you’re going to insult me, at least be original! I’ve heard some very creative insults thrown at me, but none of them here! Seriously, people!”

I looked down, glanced over at the table he’d been sitting at my first day here.
“Want me to beat them up for you?”

Jay laughed that musical laugh of his and shook his head.

“No. They wouldn’t stop and besides, I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

“I’m serious!” I cried. “I may be short but I am mighty! Don’t underestimate the power of an angry feminist!”

“No offense, Cat, but you don’t look like the type to beat someone up.”

“I’ve been in fights before. I bite. And claw. And pull hair. I am not afraid of low blows, dammit!” But I found that I was laughing too. “And besides, you’re one to talk. Have you ever even thrown a punch before?”

“Yes!” he said, looking indignant.
“And what was the outcome of that?”
“I hit the wall. And hurt my hand. It still makes a snapping noise, actually.” He waved his wrist around, demonstrating. I laughed.
“I rest my case,” I told him, returning to my food. The mystery meat had been replaced with mystery soup today, and I was very careful to avoid the floating chunks of God-knows-what.

“Hey,” said Jay after a while, “you wanna hang out in my room after lunch? I mean, just to get away from that?” He gestured at Luna, who was making cat noises.

“Good with me,” I told him. What’s the worst that could happen? “But I want to do something before that. Can you just come to my room, like, ten minutes after lunch is over?”

“Sure. It’s a date.”

Oh, how I wish that wasn’t a figure of speech! Woe is me! And now that I have written all of this down, I must go to Jay’s room! He is knocking, after all. See you then, Journal!

‘Kay, I’m back. What an emotional roller coaster this day has been. If it was any more of an emotional roller coaster, I think I might puke. I might do that anyway. I’ve certainly had enough ups and downs.

SO here’s what happened.

“You get the room all to yourself?” I asked, incredulous. “Damn, boy, why do you get a room to yourself? I want my own room.”

“Yeah, well, the only other boys’ room was with Rick. You know, Satan’s Minion. And I think they were afraid that he’d murder me I my sleep. And if I’m going to die, I’d prefer to die dramatically, thank you very much.”

“So where are the drawings that you told me about? Or did the doctors confiscate them?”
“They let me keep them. Said it was a good way to let out my emotions. They’re here. Under my bed. Because nobody would ever look there,” he added, rolling his eyes.

Jay got down on the floor and reached under the bed, and I’m ashamed to admit it, but I couldn’t help staring at his ass. I’m sorry, but boys that hot should not be allowed to be gay. As he drew himself out from under the bed, I averted my gaze.

“Behold the mediocre art!” he cried, tossing the drawing pad at me. I flailed around with it for a few seconds before opening it up.

On the first page was a detailed picture of a dragon that looked ready to leap off the paper, it was so realistic. It was all in black-and-white, inked in pen. Everything from the spikes on its back to the gleam in its eye screamed danger.
I flipped to the next page. This one had a picture of a kitten, the exact opposite of the fearsome creature on the previous page. It was in color, with big, green eyes and orange tabby-patterned fur.

“What do you think?” Jay asked. When I looked up at him, it was obvious that he was nervous, wringing his hands together and blinking a lot.

“I think,” I told him, “that this is amazing. They’re beautiful. That cat looks ready to come alive.”

“Really? You mean it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s just… I’m not very good at judging my own work. I can never tell if it’s good enough. And no matter how many compliments I get, all I can think of is the criticism.”

“That’s the way it is with my singing,” I confessed. “I… I never feel good enough. I tape myself singing, and play it back, but all I hear is me. My normal voice. Unremarkable, unnatural, and definitely untalented.”

He gave a weak smile.

“Would you believe me if I told you you were good?”
“How could you? You’ve never heard me sing.”
“I know. That’s why you’re going to sing now.”

I glanced around anxiously. I wasn’t used to performing for an audience. Not alone. I was usually in my school’s choir when I performed.

“I-I need music,” I stuttered. “It’s harder to sing without music.”

“What song?” he asked. “They let me keep my iPod. I convinced them that it was a safe way to get my emotions out. Like drawing. Listen to angry music instead of cutting myself.” He laughed bitterly. “Mind you, there isn’t much angry music on my iPod. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“Okay,” I muttered. “Let’s see it.”

Jay crossed the room to the bedside table and pulled a shiny turquoise-colored iPod out of the drawer.

“That color matches your eyes,” I blurted.

Jay looked at me, confused.
“What? The iPod? Yeah, I guess it does. And I’m going to take that as a compliment, seeing as I love this color. Here.” He passed it to me. “Pick a song.”

I scrolled through the song list.

“Beyonce?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“What? She has a beautiful voice.”
“Carrie Underwood?”
“The only country artist I can tolerate.”
“Lady GaGa?”
“Hey, don’t mess with the GaGa. She is an icon.” His eyes lit up as he defended his music choice. “She gives us freaks a voice, and she does it in a fashionable, talented way. If you think otherwise-“

“Whoa. Dude. No need to freak out. I think she’s awesome, too. In fact, I think I’ll sing one of her songs. How about Speechless?”

“Anything’s good. I have the karaoke version of that one.”

“’Kay.” I took a deep breath and sounded the first note in my mind. Letting out the first few words, I heard my voice tremble. I closed my eyes. You are in your room. No one else is home. You are alone. Swallowing, I started again. This time, I felt the beat in my pulse, heard the words in my head a split second before I sang them aloud. I threw my whole voice into it, growing stronger and stronger until the crescendo and I poured my heart and soul into that one note and I felt so great, so powerful and relieving-

And then I was finished.

I opened my eyes.

Jay was standing in front of me, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. He shook his head a few times, as speechless as the title of the song I’d just sung.

“So,” I mumbled. “What do you think?”
Jay finally seemed to regain control over himself.
“That. Was. Fabulous.”

“Really? You really mean that?” Did he just call my voice fabulous?

“Yes. That was beautiful. Amazing. I loved it.”
“So I sound good?”
“Yes, Cat, get it through your head. You’re not terrible, believe it or not. Quite the opposite. You know, you sound a lot like Lady GaGa. At one point I forgot I was listening to a live performance.” His face split into a grin and my heart just sighed. Yes, it sighed, alright?

“Th-thank you,” I said, tripping over my words. “You don’t know how much this means to me. I’m speechless myself, actually.” I smiled broadly, momentarily lifted up from my current situation. “I wish I could hear myself sing it. I mean, I can’t process the sound and sing at the same time, so I don’t know what it sounds like.”

“No problem,” chirped Jay. “I got it all on video.” He waved the iPod around and laughed.

“Seriously?” I cried. “Give it to me! I need to hear it!” I snatched it out of his hand and pulled the headphone cord out so the song was played out loud. When I heard it, I nearly swooned. Swooned, I tell you! I did sound fabulous! I was wonderful!

“Oh my sweet cherry blossoms you were right,” I whispered. “I do sound good.”

“It was just shocking at first, when you started singing,” he said. “You’re so tiny, you wouldn’t expect such a big voice from such a small girl.”

I giggled. If I could just freeze that moment, right there, I would. It was pure elation. I finally saw myself for what I was. My talent.

“Hey,” I started, “why do you have a karaoke version on your iPod?” I went through the songs again. “Several karaoke versions, in fact? Are you a secret singer?”

Jay bit his lip, nodded.

“A little bit,” he confessed. “I mean, I don’t sing that much, and never around people. I’ve never had any practice. Not even school chorus, I opted out of that because I couldn’t sing in front of people. I only sing when I have the house to myself.”

“Can I hear it?” I asked. “If you don’t mind,” I added hastily, waving my hands. “I mean, if you don’t want to, I understand completely.”

“Promise not to laugh?”
“I promise. Pick a song, any song.”

“Okay.” He closed his eyes, apparently taking the song choice into deep consideration. Taking a deep breath, he started…

And sighed.
“I can’t do this.”
“Try what I do,” I suggested. “Close your eyes. Picture yourself where you usually sing. Forget all about the place you actually are.”

“I’ll try that.” Jay took a deep breath again and pressed a button on the iPod. I recognized the opening notes of “All About Us”, by t.A.T.u. His voice climbed the scale, as the artist did in the first verse, and I was shocked at how high he could go. I couldn’t help but notice how he swayed a little to the beat. I was rocking back and forth myself, eyes shut.

The music ended just as he opened his eyes again. I clapped.

“Very nice,” I told him. “You actually have a good voice. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re singing an octave about most guys sing.”

Jay feigned a hurt expression and put a hand to his heart.
“If I had a clue what that meant, I would be offended!”

“It means that your voice is higher than most guys’.”
“Oh. I knew that already. That’s one of the reasons I don’t like singing in front of people. I always sound, you know, gay.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” I told him. “I sometimes sound like a dude when I sing, so I’m not one to judge. It was nice. A diamond in the rough. If you want, I could teach you more about singing,” I added bracing myself for rejection.

Jay grinned.
"Sure. That sounds fun."

AAIIEE, I think my brain might explode! This may come as a shock to you, Journal, but I tend to fall for guys who are talented in the arts. Between the amazing drawing and the lovely singing, I may just faint with crush-induced whimsy. Yes, I still have a crush on him, even if he is gay. I know. Let’s see how that turns out.

Then again, I’ve wanted a gay friend for a while. A cute guy who has a sense of fabulosity, as Jay clearly proved he does with his music selection. Maybe this can work out after all.