An Undead Boy

Where I live, it doesn't feel like it qualifies as a city because it's so compact and easy to get around. What's baffling is that it's officially known as one. Most of the people here think of it as a town though, so half of the time the majority of us usually alternate between the two. I can see how it can confuse outsiders.

That doesn't necessarily mean that I have been to every corner of my hometown; there are large pockets close to the inner city, the kind of places where people walk the streets drunk with cans of beer in their hand or the places where kids, barely my age, get stabbed to death for looking at someone in the wrong way.

There's obviously a clear reason why I have never been remotely interested in these areas. Until now.

I don't know what I'm thinking as I pull my hood further over my face before stepping into a part of a neighbourhood that screams of danger. The boarded up windows of nearby houses and the sound of dogs growling through feeble gates tell me as much. I'm not where I should be and I'm not even afraid.

My heart cannot pound, my pulse cannot race and what little fluids were left in my body have long since evaporated, rendering sweat as out of the question. There are no tell tale signs of fear in me, something I was keen to investigate when I set out this morning.

I should be in school. I should be in the library. Danielle must be there, waiting anxiously in our spot, checking her watch and the large clock situated above the library entrance, or any other device she can find that can tell the time in a fevered manner. She'll think that they're all broken because there is no way that I will not turn up to see her.

She is wrong.

I don't know why I feel like this, why I feel so reckless. I barely even noticed it, creeping up on me throughout the night, until I could hardly stand to sit in my room any longer.

I miss dreaming. I miss how everything in a dream made sense, even if you were doing something impossible like walking on the ceiling or battling pirates on a ship in the sky. My life doesn't make sense and it's all real. I want adventure, as if being hit by car and dying wasn't enough, and I want to feel adrenaline again.

All those other times, running into Mark and his friends or being caught in the kitchen by my mother, they were faux emotions. They weren't real, they were just dull replications of what I felt when I was alive.

I wish my heart could beat against my chest when I see Danielle, the way it should do when you see someone you love, as if it's about to burst right through the muscle and the bones just to get at her, where it belongs. Because I do love her. As a friend, as my make-shift family, as the girl I could have seen myself loving forever if things were different. I've silently wondered what she would have done if I had put my arm around her in the park that day.

It all came on gradually. I think the relief of having someone to talk to turned into an admiration, that she was willing to spend time with me instead of running away from me, and I guess that admiration turned into some sort of love. But not the love everyone else experiences; my palms don't get clammy when she's around, my mouth doesn't go dry in the way I want it to. Because you can't really love if you don't feel those things, can you? Can I?

Maybe that's what brought me here, to one of the most dangerous spots in the town. Maybe I'm trying to force myself to feel something?

And yet, I'm questioning this recklessness because this can't be a lie, the way I want to throw myself into something stupid. I really feel it. I hate this. I hate all this confusion. Danielle may have staved it off for a few months but it's just been building up in me.

I turn onto another street and am stopped in my path by the house in front of me.

There are cheap, neon signs, too many to count, and tacky multi-coloured boards plastering the walls and windows of the house. Even the door is covered, so much so that it's barely visible. The signs all read messages like Jesus Loves Sinners and Repent. I can't tear my eyes away, shocked to see such a building in a place like this.

"Amazing, isn't it?"

I acknowledge the surprise of hearing a voice beside me but I don't dive away and my heart remains silent instead of jumping into my throat. Looking across, I see a man stood next to me. I say man but he just about seems older than I am - maybe eighteen at most? He is wrapped up in a large coat, so large that it sweeps the top of his feet, and a flat cap is pulled over his face. I can still tell that he is young though. There's a playful smile on his lips and he steps closer, brandishing the umbrella over his head at me.

"Want to come under? You're getting soaked." he asks, not waiting for my reply and instead he sidles up right next to me. The umbrella casts a shadow over us and I can hear the soft tapping of the rain against the material. It's funny, I hadn't even noticed the rain.

"You said something about being amazing?" I mutter, uncomfortable with the close proximity of the stranger. He is so close, his arm grazes against mine every time he breathes.

"Yes, I am rather." he says, flashing a smile at me. My mouth flaps open and I don't know how to respond but he chuckles and nods at the house. "I'm just kidding. I meant this house. It's amazing, how something so unlikely can wind up here. Like a diamond buried in the mud."

"I was just thinking the same thing, except without the diamond analogy." I grimace, unsure of the stranger. Why was he talking to me?

"Not a big fan of the guy in the sky, huh?"

I nod stiffly, staring at the flashing signs in front of us. "Something like that. What about you?"

The stranger laughs again, this time louder and unreserved, as if we are best friends and I've just told the funniest joke in the world to him.

"Oh no, definitely not. I mean, I'm not religious but I can certainly see why people choose to believe and I don't begrudge them of it. Free will and all that."

I can only nod again as I desperately try and think up an excuse to leave. When I came here today, talking to a guy about God was the last thing on my mind.

"You know, Charlie, I thought you'd be a bit more...well, chipper." the stranger admits, lifting his cap up to reveal a flash of blue as he regards me.

"I can't see why you - " I freeze, realising what he just said. "How do you know my name?"

Stepping away from him and out of the cover of the umbrella, I back away as he waves his free hand at me.

"Wait, don't freak out. Of course I know you, you're Charlie. You were in the papers a few months ago. Everyone knows you." he says gently, trying to reassure me. "I promise, I'm not a psycho."

I narrow my eyes at him, still uncertain.

"Really. " he huffs, rolling his eyes. "Get back under the umbrella, Charlie, you're getting wet again."

I stand my ground. "Why aren't you scared?"

The stranger's face softens and his voice is quiet when he replies. "Why would I be scared of you, Charlie? You've done nothing wrong."

"So - so you know I'm a..." I break off and look away awkwardly.

"A boy who has been given a second chance? That you've been able to have another shot at life by nothing short of a miracle? Yes. I know that." he finishes for me before shaking the umbrella, sending rain drops flying everywhere. "I really have to insist that you get back under the umbrella."

"I think you're confusing a nightmare for magic."

"No, not magic. Maybe something else? But it's certainly not a nightmare. Now, please come back under here."

I do as he asks and he smiles encouragingly at me, clapping me on the shoulder.

"There - that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Who are you?" I say, ignoring him.

"Arthur. My name is Arthur."

"And why are you so interested in me, Arthur? I don't even know you."

He smiles surreptitiously, wagging a finger. "Ah well, I know all about you - "

He grabs onto my arm because I have started to back away again.

"I'm not stalking you or anything, honestly. My boyfriend goes to your school, he's in the year above you. He's told me all about you and the way the other kids are arseholes to you."

"You're boyfriend?"

Arthur rolls his eyes and his tone turns condescending. "Yes Charlie, I like boys. Don't be so - "

"No - I didn't mean - I wanted to know who he is, maybe I can recognise him?"

Arthur holds up a finger to me, telling me to wait. I watch as he pulls out his mobile phone, his fingers flying across the buttons. He glances up at me and grins again.

"Matthew Wilkes. Here's a photo of him - " he raises the phone to my eye level and I see a blurred photo of a boy with sandy hair wearing a yellow Christmas hat from a cracker, pulling a goofy face.

"Quite a catch, right? I swear he doesn't pull those faces all the time, he can be charming when he wants to be." he says fondly, stashing the phone away in his pocket. "Know him?"

I cast my mind back, trying to call up the face and the name. He does seem vaguely familiar. "Yes, I think so. I think he's on the football team, isn't he?"

Arthur nods. "Yes. Well, he was. He left the team this year so he can focus on his grades - university applications coming up next year and all."

He pauses and looks down at me (he's considerably taller than I am) - he seems hesitant. "Don't judge him for not talking to you, Charlie. He isn't afraid of you but he doesn't want people to, well...you know how teenagers can get. He had a rough patch when he came out and everyone is just starting to accept that he's still the same person as before - he really thinks you're being treated unfairly."

"Yeah, well - I know how that feels."

"And I know you do which is why I've been wanting to talk to you for a long time. This meeting is pure chance, I'd say it's destiny." Arthur whispers dramatically and I want to roll my eyes.

He turns serious again and starts to walk, pulling me along with is free hand.

"I know it's difficult. Believe me, I know. To have everyone whispering about you and pointing and calling you names. I know. But things will get better, Charlie. People will see that you're still you. You can't lose hope because then, you're giving up on yourself. How do you expect other people to accept you when you can't accept yourself?"

"I'm trying but it's - "

"Frustrating? Of course it is. Things need time! Do you have anyone to talk to? Anyone at all?"

I think about Danielle, waiting alone in the library, and I feel sick. Or I think I do, seeing as that's not possible.

"Yes, there is this one girl..."

"Talk to her. Let it all out. Don't hold back because she's obviously willing to give you a chance but you're not giving her everything."

"I do talk to her and she makes me feel human again. Sometimes though, I just feel so depressed because I start to wonder if I really am feeling all this stuff or if I'm just imagining it, or remembering what things used to feel like."

Arthur shakes his head sadly. "Charlie, of course you're feeling these things. And you are human. You seem pretty normal to me. Where is this girl right now?"

I look at my feet, suddenly ashamed. "At school."

"Which is where you should be, may I add. Don't waste you're chance, Charlie."

He's right. I shouldn't be out here, wondering the streets in some halfhearted attempt to feel alive again. I am alive, in my own way, and I shouldn't be pining over what I used to have. Something tells me it's easier said than done though.

Arthur slaps my arm, not unkindly, and gives me one last smile.

"I hope we meet again, Charlie. It's been a pleasure. Make sure you get back to school and don't do anything stupid!"

I actually grin back at him. "This has been...surreal. But in a good way. I'm glad I met you."

Arthur is already walking away but he turns around to give me a wink.

"Who isn't glad to meet me? I'm a ray of sunshine."

And he's not wrong. I already feel lighter but now, I think it's time to get back to my own personal sunshine and tell her how sorry I am for ditching her.