The Gas

It's coming. I can smell it, I can almost taste it. I just can't see anything.

The release of the gas, it's coming. Anytime now, anytime soon, it's still coming. And I'm worried. My hair; my soft, blond hair. Will this make it go all loopy? Will it stick in an undefinable position?

Laura's coming. So is the gas. The gas is coming. As is Laura. Laura's nearly orange hands place a piece of paper on my desk as she mouths 'Read it'. I take one glance at her and she's looking at the paper.

'Read it,' she whispers, inaudibly. 'Do it. Read it.'

I'm worried. I usually like notes and passing them in class - it's number one on "How To Annoy A Teacher" - but now...I don't. Because it's coming. The gas is coming. And Laura is going. She's walking back to her seat, delicately dodging chairs so she can get back to her seat unharmed.

I open up the note - well, really, it was a yellow post-it-note, not paper - carefully, not wanting my nails touching it. I blink violently trying to read what is written down. I look back at Laura. She's smiling and dazing off into her own world. Liam's her guide, her inspiration. She's definitely thinking of him.

She always will. She will always do this. Pass me a note that has nothing to do with anything. I look back at the yellow post-it note. I attempt to read the scrawly writing that is nearly impossible to read.

Beware of the gas.

I know. I know. I know it's coming, I can taste it, smell it, feel it. I just cannot see it.

You cannot see it. You will never be able to see it. It is invisible.

Sure. Sure it is, Laur. I'm going to be able to see it, I'll prove you wrong.

You'll never be the same...