I Can Disappear in Several Ways

Ryland sat on the hood of my car, arms crossed. His hair danced in the wind slightly, but this time, I wasn't blinded.

"You've never been this late," He didn't bounce down and into my arms, only looked down at me as I approached him.

"I'm sorry. Meeting Ms. Merrick is important, you know that."

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Yeah. For an extra hour?"

"I was telling her about you, about dad... About Tommy..."

"He's dead, Garrett. They both are." His feet finally touched the ground. "When are you going to accept that?"

I backed away from him. "It's not something I can just throw away."

"You're being a baby, Gare. And it would be -"

I slunk into my car and slammed the door, allowing it to roar with life before Ryland saw that I was prepared to leave without him. He sat inside impatiently, not saying a word until I'd thrown down my backpack on my bed when we got home.

"Why do you always have to tell me what to do?" I looked out of the corner of my eye at him, not staring as usual as we settled down. He didn't look as beautiful as I could remember.

"Why don't you ever listen to me? I know what's best for you," He stated bluntly.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I'm the most important part of you, aren't I?"

"You're getting cocky," I snarled, siting on my bed alone.

"Listen here, Gare-"

"No," I hissed. "What did you help my mother with today?"

"What did you help her with?"

"I wasn't asking you!"

"You haven't answered any of my questions. What difference does it make?" He placed his hands on his hips, then curled his lip at me. "Why were you so late?"

"Because I was finally opening up to someone about things you've never asked about."

"Your friend you used to play pokèmon with? Your daddy? His daddy? So what?" He stepped closer to me, then sniffed my hair. I pushed him back, a bit creeped out for the first time, then he spat at me. "You smell like a woman. And is that lipgloss?" He pressed a cold finger against my cheek. "Sticky. It is."

"What are you going to do about it?" I stood up and bumped my chest into him, pushing him away.

Ryland - being the small, skinny boy he was - bounced off of me and onto the ground. He muttered curses under his breath, then grasped for an old writing trophy I'd gotten for a short story about my rabbit that I'd lost, which was misplaced on the floor close by him. "Why don't you listen to me?!"

Something in my mind clicked. He was aiming for my chest. The heart that beat inside - for him, even - was being threatened. My fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and I backed away. I turned quickly as he roared my name, then felt a ripping sensation in my side.

The sharp edges of the metal had been lodged into my lower side. I fell to the ground, screeching from agony, begging Ryland to remove it. He did so, then forced me to my feet. "I loved you. I really did."

I didn't dare to get away from his grip, until I saw where he was taking me. My mother had kept the window open, letting the autumn air settle into the house.

Ryland pushed me against the walk, kissed me with forced passion, then flung me out of my window, leaving me to plunge to my certain doom.

-

The sound of a heart monitor woke me from my dreamless slumber. The steady beeping calmed me, I could already tell where I was. I opened my eyes to see the plain white tiles on the ceiling, then stretched out my arms. I cursed quietly, then attempted to stretch my legs. No movement.

"They said you're paralyzed," A familiar voice cooed. "In time, through surgery and rehabilitation, you can get movement back. But you hurt yourself pretty badly."

"Ryland hurt me, Ms. Merrick," I cried, staring into her troubled eyes.

"First of all, it's Cassadee," She smiled at me tightly. "And second, I warned you. You show signs of multiple personality disorder. He never was there, you made him up to get rid of your loneliness."

"Let's say that's true. How could an imaginary friend push me out of a window?"

"They said you fell on a trophy,  then tripped out of it."

I watched her for a moment, assessing the possibility.

I looked back at all of our memories, none of them clicked. No facts, no family. Mother called him her son.

Ryland was me.

At that moment, I looked out of the door to see him - clad in only his skin, stroking my rabbit softly. He half-smiled, waved slightly, then dissolved into the air.

"All the blood and guts are exposed. Your spirit has been begging to leave. So run, little rabbit. Run."