The Chronicles of James Pete Smith and Alysia Urie-Ross

“Oh, baby, when they made me, they broke the mold.”
- ‘(Coffee’s For Closers)’ by Fall Out Boy

My mouth was sticky and warm from the coffee I had just been allowed. After medical procedures that required fasting, the closest coffee shop was the first stop for Donna or Harry--whoever had taken me that day--and me. Unfortunately for them, I was a zombie up until the first sip of coffee passed my lips. Unfortunately for me, however, that zombie I would become was entirely obedient.

My eyes were itchy from the procedure--of course, chemicals being dropped into your eyes would probably make them pretty damn itchy, too. Unsurprisingly enough (to me, at least), I needed my glasses after the procedure. I mean, I hadn't when I'd woken up that morning--but usually I did, after these so-called "invasive eye procedures." Of course, I had to have these a lot. Donna and Harry were oh-so-interested in figuring out why I only needed glasses half the time (along with various other afflictions). But it was my life, it had become something I was used to. They just hated having an unexplainable freak for a(n adopted) son.

Fifth hour English. How delightful. To be fair, however, the class wasn't that terrible (unlike fourth-hour Geometry--eugh). We had a bearable teacher--and by that, I mean that we learned nothing and we were tested over just as much. We read stereotypical Sophomore year novels, talked a little about them in class (also known as daily summaries, or the teacher reading the book for you) and watched their films. That was all. In fact, that day when I walked in, we were in the middle of The House on Mango Street--but we were watching the film adaptation of To Kill A Mockingbird. Not that I could complain, at all. If there was any one character or image to describe the phrase "hot dad," it was Gregory Peck as Atticus Finch. Goddamn, was that man a piece of eye candy.

Not that my eyes were doing well at looking at Mr. Peck and his gorgeous face. As soon as I entered the darkened room, my eyes started to hurt--sort of like they had during that procedure itself. It was this burning, stinging feeling, like a million needle-toed centipedes crawling over my eyeballs. I felt like my retinas were being scratched up, far far far beyond repair. My optic nerve was being irritated. I thought that if I opened my eyes, they'd be swinging everywhere and I'd get dizzy and faint. Even when they were closed, it felt like rapid eye movement in sleep--only in real life. I was dizzy in the dark. Funny how the dark normally soothed my eyes but it was the assailant this time.

I knew the classroom--I knew every classroom, they were all identical--well enough that I could duck down under the projector and get to the teacher's desk. However, I did have to open my eyes to dig my pass out and make my excuse to her. A nod of my head and my glasses were fully covering my eyes. Another tilt forward and there was hair even in front of that. If I looked down at the desk, any notable change in my eyes would go entirely unnoticed.

Somehow, my plan managed to work. Probably because I rarely made eye contact with anyone, anyway, so Mrs. Ray didn't even try. She'd given up on that after the first month of school. The problems actually arose when I went back to my desk--to the one person who had never been genuinely nice to me (or so it seemed). Ally Urie-Ross was a girl I had only known for a week, but she was like some sort of strange angel. She was my friend. Not the kind of friend who I could get info from--but a real friend. At least, I thought so. I hoped so. I hoped that I wasn't wrong, that she considered me a friend and not just some weird kid she humored because I didn't want into her pants.

Maybe my paranoia was what kept me from the others.

I sat down at the right side of the two-desk setup Ally and I had. As soon as I was down there, I closed my eyes again. They were so damn irritated and itchy that it was starting to hurt. It kind of made me want to sleep, too, in the middle of the fucking day. Not that that was exactly unusual for me--it was just unusual because I ended up resting my head on my desk and trying for sleep. My glasses hit the table lenses out, only a few inches further from my eyes than usual.

"Hey, Jimmy," Ally had said when I'd first walked over. I ignored her, preferring to be alone--and, really, I was lost in my thoughts. "Jimmy?" she asked, sounding more concerned, once I was resting my head on my arms on the desk. In the middle of one of my favorite films. Ally poked me in the arm. "You there?" A pause from her end. "Rough shit today?"

"You don't even know," I muttered into the desk. "Eugh." I half gagged as my tongue tapped the fake wooden top. "I'll be fine after I sleep a little."

"Whenever you say you're fine, you're not," Ally observed. She had this way of stating the obvious that made everything oddly impactful. Such as that.

"'S not just me," I replied, my voice half slurred from my attempts to keep my tongue off the desk. "I'm just really fucking tired and my eyes hurt." That was just the simple, less painful way to say how I felt.

"Seriously, Jimmy, are you okay?"

I looked up at her finally, leaving my glasses on the table. Well, admittedly, I didn't really look at her--I'm truly blind without my glasses and it was pretty damn dark in there. But I looked in her general direction, well enough that she could really see my eyes. I heard a gasp. "Ally?" I wondered aloud.

"Jimmy, don't freak out or anything," she hissed, "but your eyes are fucking glowing."

"What?"
I paused for a second. "You're shitting me, right?"

Ally paused for a moment--she might have shaken her head, but I couldn't see her so I wouldn't know--then she reached over and grabbed my glasses. "You're so fucking blind without these," she muttered, handing them to me. I put them back on hastily. “We have to get you out of here before people start to notice your--”

She was cut off by the first remark of the whole day. “Look at Jimmy.” It was a stage whispered (and barely even that) remark from some chick named Della to her friend Adriana. “His eyes are fucked up.” This little message of hers was passed on--spreading half through the room before either of us had time to react to the words. “Hey, four-eyes. They’re glowing.” Hisses and jeers came from every corner. The table was suddenly the only thing that held any interest to me. If I kept my eyes open, then I could see the little circles of illumination from their glow. Just the thought of that--what it would mean for me, like, if I’m a fucking alien--started to get to me. What the hell am I? My heart rate went up as the whispers surrounded me, perfect torture in surround sound, I shut my eyes tight. No, no leave me alone. I’m a freak. I was so suddenly convinced of how much of a freak I was. God, if only Donna saw me like that. If Donna saw me, she would have brought my world down. “James, you’re a freak,” she never even bothered to call me Jimmy. Harry gave up on raising me to be a normal son. To him, still, a normal son liked tits and being social and athletics nothing had even changed for him. Oh god, I am a freak. Fix me. Oh my god--
I would have shut down entirely if not for Ally grabbing my hand and jerking me to my feet.

“Jimmy fucking W-Smith,” she proclaimed, a true whisper right above my ear. “You are going to follow me, and you are going to listen to every word I say. Alright?”

“W-Smith?” I questioned softly. She gave me only a death glare in return, which got me scared. More scared than I already was. “Where are you taking me?”

“Does it really matter?” Ally sounded irritable already. But she softened a bit when she saw my expression. “C’mon. We have to get out of all this noise.”

“Please.” I bit my lip after that and decided to shut up, thinking that I sounded too desperate.

Without even asking the teacher for permission, Ally lead me out of the room. As we left, I’d shot a furtive glance at Mrs. Ray. She caught it, however, and appeared shocked. My eyes, probably. My glowing fucking eyes. Now even my teacher--my preachy, “embrace diversity” loving teacher--was going to think that I was some sort of alien freak. God, I hated my life.

Ally lead me down the hallways, through corridors that not even I knew existed. She ignored me completely when I asked if we were going to Nurse Turner’s office. We took a turn that completely bypassed the nurses’ office, in fact. That was one of the few times I had enough light to really see where we were going. Even with my eyes shining like fucking glowsticks, the dark blinded me still. Ally was handling it much better--and I got a feeling that she’d been through these halls a number of times. That or she was just fucking psychic or something.

We ended up going through a well-hidden door, through a harmless bush, and out into the bright sunlight of mid-afternoon California. I shielded my eyes. So this was too bright for me--but the dark was too dark for me? Unnerving.

Before I even had time to ask a quick “where the hell are we?” or maybe even “what the hell, Ally?” she had grabbed her phone from her pocket. Still gripping my wrist with her other hand, she dialed in a number and put the phone to her ear.