Sid and the Last Five Years

“Morning hun,” I heard my mom say, the wet stain of a kiss left upon my forehead. Her eyes spoke worry and panic, her frantic behavior obvious from the first moment I awoke that morning. She had a big black bag in her hand, too small to be a suitcase, but too big to be a purse. She dressed herself in a heavy, blue jean jacket, her chestnut hair pulled back into a messy pony tail. No make-up was applied “I'll be back in a few days, there's money on the counter and you know where the water is.” Why would I not know where the water is? That would be the last time I saw her for a while; a while too long; a while that outlasted that money and whatever bond we had left. Her light brown locks swayed to the side, and the sight of her disappeared.

“Stupid, I was so stupid,” I muttered, covering my face with the cotton blanket and securing myself in the comfort and warmth it provided me with. I was so utterly stupid to think that woman would stick around to see Adam or I grow into adults, to see us actually transform into what we wanted to be. But I was stupid to convince myself that would happen; stupid.

The light of the gray sun shone through the cracks of the venation blinds, not piercing the darkness with garish intensity as I wished it would, but merging into the room as if it would rather not be noticed, like my mother.

*

The girls with the big blue eyes and skinny bodies twisted their blonde hair around their fingers, laughing at jokes that weren't humorous. The muscular teammates of the Varsity team sat around them like seagulls around a McDonald's, waiting for just a bite of something leftover. A few tables over sat the intelligent straight-A students who dabbled in unheard championships for some virtual computer games, as they cast themselves away from the rest of society because- Hell, at least they had some place to escape the Hell, even if the place was a video game.

'Don't you just wish you could fit in?' the voice was ear-splitting, like the sound produced from nails dragged roughly along an old, dusty chalk board. 'You won't fit in though, because you're Elli. Hell, the last time you had a best friend you didn't even get them a Christmas gift. She gave you a present, and what were you, Elli? Empty-handed is what -you- were.' Such a stupid, little fight it was, such a silly thing to lose a best friend over, but I did. And Sid was right, whether he was mentally thought up or he was physically in front of me, he was always there, and he was always right.

'Don't you just wish one of them would come ask you how you're doing, or compliment you on your hair that looks like shit- Because you and I both know they're doing the same thing over there, to those blonde girls. You know they're showering them with everything they want to hear because those girls are pretty, and those girls do sports, and those girls, oh those girls, aren't weird.'

The aroma of greasy pizza and icy, cold dairy product filled the room, trying to make it's way through the thick smoke, sneaking down my throat and coating my clothes, marking me as it's own. My eyes watered from the flames beginning to crisp, the cackle of the fire so loud- Oh so, loud. The laughter, the roar so obvious as it threw the teenagers, my classmates, the ones I'd like to call me piers at one time or another, under its body of Hell; so loud- Oh so, loud.

'You think I'm the one that's mean, you're scared of me. Well, Elli, here's the honest-to-God-mother-fucking-truth. I've been nothing but nice to you, and you're the enemy to yourself. I tell you the truth when other people don't- I'm just honest. If you asked me if you should slit your wrists, I'd tell you you should. Other people would lie and tell you otherwise. I'm honest, you should. If you asked me whether or not you should slit your throat, I'd tell you yes. Why? Because, once again, I'm honest. Honest, honest.'

Fire climbed the wall quickly, inflaming everything in its path; it lit up the walls, it lit up the students. I heard Ms. Andreq cry out my name in pain, agony, as she sunk into the pit of pure red and blue. It claimed me its next victim, as the line of gasoline ran from Ms. Andreq, along the tiled, melting floor, then up my doused jeans to my ribcage. The only sound behind the thunder of the fire, was the vague, shadowy laughter of Sid.

“Don't eat me! Don't eat me!” I bawled; I was then consumed.