I Can Disappear in Several Ways

"Sorry I'm late," I panted, tossing down my bag and falling into the soft spinny chair in Ms. Merrick's office. "I went to get water, then the line was long and I lost track of -"

"It's okay, Garrett," She cooed. "You're here now, that's what matters."

I smiled, thankful that she wasn't angry with me.

"Today, I want to talk about your life before Ryland," She started. "And then how you got to meet him. I have this belief that he... came to you after you'd gotten hurt by something."

"It was really coincidental," I nodded. "Well, there was Tommy..."

"When did you know Tommy?"

I sighed, readying myself to open up to this woman.

-

I was maybe five years old when Tommy moved in next door. I got excited by the moving truck down the road, begging my parents to make something for our new neighbors. My father talked my mother into baking na homeade apple pie after a bit of coaxing, then we went for a small walk to welcome the people who now lived next to our farm.

Father knocked on the door politely, then stepped back to wrap an arm around my mother. The door was answered by a young, stressed-out looking man with black hair and a stubbly chin, much too young to have any children, or so I thought. "Hello?"

"Hello, neighbor!" My father boomed, offering the man his hand. After a pause, he took it and shook it respectfully. "Name's Gerard."

"I'm Billie Joe."

"We thought we'd welcome you into the neighborhood. My wife even made her famous Stumph Apple Pie for you."

My mother forfieted the pastry, the smell of cinnomin, apples, and love wafted down and caused my stomach to rumble.

"He sounds hungry... I'd like to share this with you three, if it's alright with you. You made it, after all."

We all beamed, happy to have a welcoming neighbor.

Billie Joe welcomed us in, and we were all set at his table. "Tommy," He called. "Come to the kitchen and meet our neighbors."

"There's so many boxes, daddy," A little boy appeared from the stairwell at the end of the hall, rubbing his eyes. He looked up to notice us, smiled excitedly and raced to the table. "This pie smells so yummy!"

Tommy and I got into an in-depth conversation about pokemon, our parents - well, his parent and my parents - and got along instantly.

Through the next few years, Tommy and I would constantly be at eachother's houses, pretending to be dragons terrorizing a town of chickens, or building forts with cardboared boxes and sheets. My father would visit Gerard every week, helping him with the huge yard so that the single man didn't have to do it all himself.

Druing a storm when I was almost ten, Billie Joe's house had a minor short of electricity. My father happily ran over, being so handy with carpentry as he was.

I remember watching the house smoke from inside my bedroom, then suddenly burst into flames. They were so powerful, the rain could do nothing to combat them. I screeched in terror, my mom moaning into the phone, begging for firefighters and rescue.

They showed up maybe twenty minutes too late, the home had already been destroyed.

My father, Billie Joe, and my best friend we pronounced dead on sight - they were barely recognizable through charred features. I wept at the sight when I sprinted to approach the ambulances down the road, my mother screaming at the sky, demanding an answer to why everything had happened, and why now.

The day of the funeral for the three, my mother brought me home a small, brown rabbit named Ryland. He became my new best friend, I soon chose talking to him over talking to my peers or even my own mother.

I brought the rabbit with me everywhere I went, until one day, perhaps with age or from suffocation due to a hug, Ryland died in my arms. I cried for a good few hours, then went outside to give my dear friend a proper burrial next to the old oak tree behind the barn.

As I was finishing the dig and singing "Everything falls further behind, I can disappear in several ways. So run, little rabbit, run," a boy fell out of the oak. He stood, brushed off his plain, gray clothing, then apologized noisily for eavesdropping. I laughed, telling him that it was okay. I looked him over quickly, then blushed. He stared back at me.

I was only fourteen, but I had already fallen in love with the boy who fell into my life.

"I'm Garrett," I smiled meekly, offering him my hand.

"I'm... I'm..." He glanced down at my rabbit's grave, reading the stone I'd carved for him. "I'm Ryland."

At the time, I was too stunned from beauty and love at first sight that I didn't question his wherabouts, his name, or why he was in the tree in the first place.

"Really? That was my bunny's name," I grinned, then walked him to my house to welcome him in.

He wanted only to help me with the farm for a while, then when Iearned that he was living in the forest, I brought it up that he should move in with me. Mother thought I was crazy for asking for a while, but didn't give us much trouble, as long as he'd help us. He admitted his feelings for me on my sixteenth birthday, and we'd been sharing a bed ever since.

About two weeks after he's started to sleep alongside me, my mother had one of her many episodes. She'd began to drink to cope with the loss of my father, wailing loudly with every swig of whiskey. She roared my name a few times; reluctantly - against Ryland's wishes - I went to see what she wanted.

I don't remember much about that night, but I remember the feeling of glass against bone, causing my memory to fall into pieces. I woke the next morning in my bed, Ryland calling my name, begging me to open my eyes. I had a pain in my neck, multiple lumps forming on my skull, and pieces of glass jutting out from places in every limb, most of which filled in the spots that weren't purple and sore from days before. I was no longer bleeding, but what blood I did shed was dried and caked on my wounds, and I knew I'd have to dress them anyway. It wasn't difficult to remove the pieces of bottle, but the pain was unbearable. Ryland had to match my effort, helping me remove every last shard. The wounds all began to ooze with blood again, and I became light-headed. It wasn't the first time she'd hurt me, nor would it be the last. Ryland being at my side made -

"I'm going to stop you there." Ms. Merrick raised her hands, not daring to look at me. "I'm... I'm so sorry. Neither of us can take this for much longer."

"it's nice to have someone who cares," I sighed, wiping a drying tear from my cheek.

"What else are friends for?"

"Friends?" I smiled with half of my face. "This is strictly educational, is it not?"

"You could say that," She leaned in to hold my shoulders and look me in the eyes. "You've stayed a few extra minutes again, Gare."

I didn't move, allowing myself to be pulled closer to her. "Ryland can wait."

Our lips brushed against each other sweetly, but wouldn't pull apart. I welcomed the smell of her skin and the warmth of her breath; it was in that moment I realized that it was something I couldn't remember about the man I loved.