I Never Meant to Be so Cliche

I wasn't scared. I wasn't happy with the situation, but I wasn't scared. Being dragged behind Ronnie with not wasn't the worse thing to ever happen to me. It didn't really matter. Sure, he could kill me. If he did. . . it would be unfortunate, but not that big of a loss on the world's scale.

Once you think about it. I wasn't significant at all. I didn't do anything very special. My life wasn't all that amazing. Only a very few occasions did I do something worth mentioning to anyone, but I don't mention things to anyone anymore.

The only thing I was good at was shutting things off, not like your old computer at home, but like things that someone shouldn't. Right now I was completely calm solely for the fact that all of my emotions could be spared for a moment. It wasn't that difficult to do. You just had to picture your pathetic life in full and realize you don't really have anything to happy about or afraid. There is always something much worse around the corner.

"Get in." Ronnie demanded sternly, opening what I was assuming was his car door.

I stared at him for a moment. Sure, I wasn't scared, but I also wasn't stupid. Getting into a car with a stranger who is known for going in and out of jail is not something that was on my bucket list. I've seen movies like this. They don't end well for me.

"Let me rephrase that. Get in the car, or you will be experiencing life in my trunk for awhile." He growled.

Agitation was clearly written on his features, so I got in the car with no further protest. If I went missing, my parents would look for me. I thought so at least. They worked so much, I doubt they would notice a change.

I wanted to ask him where he was taking me. Where he decided was important enough to drag me out of school and into the city for. The things that could be running through his head must be chaos. If what new girl said was true, he had lots on his plate. What it had to do with me, I didn't know. They were pretty vague. They could have been talking about anyone from the principle to Brad Pitt.

The trees seemed to disappear slowly as we entered the city. The city. I don't go into the city and for good reasons. I hated it. Everyone on the streets were judging you, seeing if you were good enough to meet up to their expectations of other city dwellers. They each had something more diabolical on their minds than the average person. I should have known Ronnie would like it here.

His hands were gripping the steering wheels tightly, to the point of his knuckles being the color of snow in the early morning. His jaw was set, and his lips were in a tight line. Nothing was normal about him. He seemed too perfect to be in high school with those dirty people who only have thoughts of themselves. Something about him was just odd, like he knew something that everyone else would kill to know, and he knew, just didn't care.

Buildings started to thin out to where we were in tree country again. I had never been this far away from my house before. It wasn't it walking distance, so I didn't go there.

Screeching to a stop, Ronnie jumped out of the car. I watched his lean form walk around the car until he was opening the door was frustration right before me.

"Get out now." He said. It was obvious he wanted me to get out before he said it, but I just sat there and stared at him for a moment.

Brown eyes. They gave him away. Everything about him was screaming for respect. That he was the one in charge right now, but those eyes. . . Like I said. He was too perfect.

Eying him slowly, I got out of the car. Doom could be waiting for me right behind those trees, but still I let myself be dragged away into them. With instincts screaming and my heart racing, I walked through the abbess of trees.

Red, green brown. The leaves danced slowly from the top of the world down to where they were just another common thing. Capable of being stepped on, to be easily forgotten. The trees would grow new leaves again. The ones that fell had did what they must, and they were needed no more. I wished people were as honest as trees. At least trees are high enough to where the fall down would kill instead of waiting with all of your injuries for the internal bleeding to catch up with you.

Concrete peeked out from the trees. I had a clear sign of a tunnel now, and had a sense of deja vu.

"This used to be an old running path. The tunnel was built because there was a rare species of ant that lived right in the middle of it. The new one was built twenty years ago, and this place was quickly forgotten." Ronnie said dragging his hands across the graffiti covered walls of the inside.

I hesitated, unsure of following or not. I didn't know where this place led to, but I had a fleeing that I did. That I was here before, and all this paranoid worrying was just that, paranoid.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk." Ronnie said crouching down to a piece of graffiti crossed his eye. He ran his hand over it and smiled. It must have something that he cared about written on it.

I looked on the walls as he set down in front of his little picture. I guess he didn't want me to see. The walls were covered with names, and dates, and hearts. Each was different in their own way. J.T. loves C.R. forever. Forever was a very long time.

These were all written by teenagers, I bet. The ones who were lost in their little worlds not caring that there was one outside their minds that they needed to worry about. Those were my favorite types of people. They still had something to dream for. The world inside their mind was one day going to happen for them, and if C.R. was apart of J.T.'s world wasn't up to me. It was a nice thought that they still were the couple that vandalized public places together, but the odds of that, were very slim.

Why did you bring me here? I signed.

"Like I said I wanted to talk." He replied vaguely.

I'm not known for talking. I said pointing out the irony of his statement.

"You know what I meant."

I didn't hear anything. Whatever happened between you and the new girl is none of my business.

"Then why were you listening to the conversation?" He asked. I was stunned. That was not what I thought he would say.

I was waiting for you guys to finish, so I could go down the hall. I lied smoothly. My hands don't falter like voices do. It was much harder to tell if I was lying or not.

"That's a lie. I can't blame you though. Being that lonely must make anything seem interesting, even a conversation you had no place in." He sighed.

What makes you think I'm lonely? I asked. I wasn't lonely. I was dull sure but not lonely. You can't be lonely when you never knew contact to begin with.

"How can you not be lonely?" He asked. I gave him a puzzled look. "Well, with someone who never talks to anyone, sign or not, must have lots of things he wants to say. I know your parents aren't in the picture very much, and you don't have any friends. Most of your family is dead or doesn't care about you, which must hurt in its own right. Everything you think stays in your head, so your thoughts get wilder than most. Given your thoughts are much more cynical than others." He explained. I gave him another look.

I was scared now. I would admit that. No one, and I mean no one, knew any of that. He should not know. This is the most I've ever talked to him in my life.

How . . . How do you know all that? I hesitated. Did I really want to know the answer?

"There are a lot of things I know, and if I don't know it, I have ways of finding it out." He replied smoothly with a smirk.

That doesn't answer my question. I signed with terror slowly creeping up my spine.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He scoffed.

Tell me. I demanded.

"Well, Maxie, you told me." His smirk grew wider, and my heart beat faster.

That wasn't possible. That would imply I spoke to him. I didn't speak to him or anyone for that fact and especially about things that I didn't even like admitting to myself. There is no way he could have known.

That's a lie. We've never spoken before this day. I signed angrily.

"Is it really?" He asked skeptically.

What is that supposed to mean?

"I can't tell you." He sighed getting up.

Why not? I asked starting to get worried.

"You have to remember for yourself. If I told you, you wouldn't believe me anyways." He stated walking closer to me.

What am I supposed to remember? I can't pull a thought out of thin air. I signed with a sigh walking backwards in step with him.

"Now, now, little Maxie, that would cheating." He said waving his finger in the air. The nick name rolled off his tongue like it was the only thing he ever called me, like he was used to it.

Then I can't help you.

"Oh, you aren't helping me. You're helping yourself."

{i]You're saying weird things again.

"Just tell me this. What is your earliest memory?" He asked with his lips tugging up from that sly smirk that was still smacked on his face.

Me and my brother being called in for dinner. I signed without missing a beat.

"Is it now?" he asked smiling in the slightest.

Yes, my mother was calling me and my brother from playing in the yard that dinner was ready, and that our father would eat it all, if we didn't hurry. Then I remember laughter from my brother saying it. . . was. . . just . . like . . .him. My signing slowed as a realization hit me.

I don't have a brother. I'm an only child. What was I remembering?