[~*Lonely Wanderer*~]: 264.The Other Side

The Other Side

By Jenn

The Other Side

She’s sitting there again. Her hair draped about her shoulders; an untamed silvery mass in the moonlight. It’s late, probably the beginning of another day. She’s sitting there in the corner of her room drawing again. She’s getting mad about it too. Seems like she’s having difficult trouble getting something right for the first time in a long time. She draws as a passion and it just comes natural to her, but now she seems to be losing her touch. She grabs the eraser and rubs it frantically over the drawing pad. Her eyes start to pop out of her head as she throws the tablet, pencil and eraser down on the floor of her room. It sends a small cloud of chalk dust into the air and you could see it in the moonlight. It looked like fairies playing in the colors of the dust and moonlight. Then the dust fell upon her drawing boards. She had boards and papers, pens and paints, crayons and chalk, fabric and paint brushes strewn throughout her entire room. There were drawings of families done in red and people drawn out with a blue pencil, there was abstract and the lot of them all was the boards painted black and grey. ‘I can’t do it, I just can’t do it.’ She says as she tossed down the tablet and pulled at her hair. She leans back against the wall and sighs, her knees curling up against her small figure for more warmth and comfort. She moves her hands to her face and rubs at her forehead to shake off the headache she was getting. She closed her eyes and his face appeared again. She became overwhelmed with a sudden rage. She let out a sigh of pent up frustration and got up. She stomped over to her door and opened it just as her parents we about to knock. ‘Where are you going?’ They questioned her. She said ‘phht’ and spat at their feet. She held her head high above them, one factor because she was actually taller than them and secondly because they really couldn’t stop her. ‘I’m going out. Later.’ She went around them and down the two small flights of steps and to the coat closet. She got her black jacket that she had adorned with jewelry such as pins and rips. She threw it on over top of her black tee and the bottom reached her leather jeans. She opened the door. Her dad was yelling profoundly at her as she just shut the door on his voice and walked away. Her parents went to the window and looked out through the curtains at their misshapen daughter. He put his arm around his wife’s shoulder and she began to cry again. She kept walking while she turned around and flipped them her middle finger with both hands and screamed fuck you. She turned around and kept walking down the street. It was quiet in their calm little neighborhood where everything was always peaceful, well, it was until she showed up. She walked down the ten minute walk to the end of her drive and stopped at the stop sign and looked for traffic briefly, she ignored the car that was coming her way and stepped out onto the street. She put her hands in the pockets of her jacket and crossed, the speeding car just now noticing her slammed on its brakes and swore at the kid for not paying attention to the law and street signs. She turned at looked at him for a mere glace and he instantly shut up and rolled the window in his car up. She turned her head back towards the street and continued on her journey. Another five minutes later she makes a right hand turn and goes about two blocks. Almost half an hour ago she was at her house and frustrated with herself, now she was standing on his doorstep ringing the broken doorbell. She knocked on the house when he didn’t come quickly because no one dares to knock on his door. She waited and almost instantly she heard his voice call out asking for who was there. ‘It’s me.’ She said. She heard him unlocking all of the chains and decoding all of the pad locks and soon the door was open. He was about five foot and 6 inches tall, her being a mere one inch shorter made no difference. He stared at her with cold eyes and they stood there for a moment and then he turned around and went back to the couch. He was only in black boxes with a smiley face sticking its middle finger up in the front and the back said fuck on!, and a black tee shirt. She walked in after him and shut the door. She took her coat off and laid it on the floor. ‘What are you doing here?’ He asked her. She headed off in the direction of the kitchen. She opened his fridge and to no surprise all she saw was alcohol. There was a Budweiser case there with only one missing, she took out two and came back into the room to where he was sitting. ‘Am I not allowed to do anything I fucking want to anymore?’ She asked as she shoved the bottle in his hand and sat down on the tan couch next to him. She put the cap on the coffee table and threw her fist down on the cap while pulling the bottle free. The cap fell to the floor and she took a few sips of it. He sat up from his laying down position and opened his the same way. He downed his half way and looked over at her with glazed eyes. She was still only a fourth of the way through hers. She looked at him. ‘You can do whatever the fuck you want. Did your parents give you a pissy fit last time when you went back drunk?’ She looked away and took another sip of her beer. ‘Yeah, they said that I’m only 14 and I shouldn’t be doing the things I’m doing and one of them was hanging out with a 19 year old and getting drunk. I told them to fuck off. Phht, whoever thought that some parents could be such pushovers.’ She took another drink and he did too. He smiled at her and she smiled back. About four minuets later she was coming back from the fridge with two more bottles. She handed him his and they took the caps off, the teeth of the caps indenting onto the table like the many other beer bottles before them. She chugged at hers and the glaze over his eyes increased when he downed some of the second one. He leaned over to her and kissed at her neck. She put down the bottle and reached out and took his face and kissed his lips. After a while she pulled from him and took some more of the beer into her. He swigged at his too. She looked at the news caster on the TV and saw that it was late, actually around ten in the morning. She kissed him once more and got up. She downed the rest of her second beer and picked up her first bottle. She went to the kitchen and threw them away and came back to him. She kissed him once more. ‘I need to get out of here.’ She said with glazed eyes. She left him on the couch in a state of drunkenness. She went over and threw her coat on her and walked through the door. She said bye as she walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk. He stood there at the door and watched her make the two blocks and the left hand turn. She walked the five minutes to the street where she scared the guy in his car and kept walking. Nothing came as she went this time. She walked and thirty minutes later she was back home opening the door, taking off her jacket, and putting it in the hallway closet. She shut the door and sluggishly walked up the stairs. Her parents we’re waiting at her bedroom door. She rolled her eyes and opened her bedroom door as her dad gave her an earful. ‘Where have you been? Where did you go? I smell alcohol coming from you! Did you go to his house again? You’re drunk aren’t you?’ She glared her eyes at him. ‘Besides you and besides the “holy lord” who gives a fuck what I do? I love him and I love his beer. I’m drunk and you need to get the fuck over yourselves!’ She slammed the door in their faces. ‘THAT’S IT! I’m getting the locks out! You are NEVER coming out of that room again!’ She heard her father stomp down the stairs and rummage around in the closet. He came back up and she heard the chain going on the nails and the lock being shut. Her mother was crying again. They left her door and went elsewhere. Her shoulders started to sag and became heavy with a burden weight. She went to her window and opened it the crack that she was able to open it to; her dad nailed it shut so it can only open a little. She went over to the corner where her notebook was. She reached under some of her paintings and retrieved a cigarette box and a lighter. She got a cigarette from the carton and stuck it in her mouth. She hid the box again and lit it. She then returned the lighter to its hidden spot. She inhaled and let out a puff of smoke. They wouldn’t be coming to check on her for a while and she was a nervous wreck. She reached over to her drawing in the process and started to work on it again. Tears started streaming from her face. She was sober and was getting a migraine and her mind was on overdrive. She worked and worked and then got fed up with it. She had gone through her cigarette and had discarded the butt in her trash can. She threw the book down and got up. Tears still streamed from her face as she walked over to her battered dresser and pulled open the third drawer down. She dug through her clothes to the bottom where a small lid was. She pulled the lid off and got down into where a razor blade and a sharpener were hidden. She took them out and shut the door. She went back over and sat down in her corner. She picked up her tablet and started to work again. Bored and aggravated with it once more she let the book lat on her lap. She picked up her razor and sharpener. She laid the small blade on the metal and pulled it across, sharpening it in a few swipes. She laid the sharpener back down. She held the razor in her right hand and placed the blade on her index finger on her left. She pressed lightly and pulled it quickly across her finger. It didn’t hurt but the blood was flowing brightly and quickly from her finger. She watched as a drop of blood fell from her hand. She moved her hand quickly away from the paper but the drop splattered across the page. She turned her head and looked at it. To her it actually seemed pretty cool. Her finger now bleeding profoundly she stuck the appendage into her mouth. She took the razor in her hand and got up. She walked over and plopped down on her bed. Tears still pouring, she cut her vein on her wrist. She felt the flood of release and fell back onto her bed, her dyed reddish brown hair pouring out everywhere. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again it was mid afternoon and there was knocking at her door. She sat up and looked down at her wrist. There was dried blood everywhere. She said to wait a moment and that she was getting changed. She went over to the drawer again and stashed the razor away. She ran back to her bed and threw the sheet over to the other side. Luckily it hadn’t bled all the way through. She ran to her dresser again and grabbed a long black hoody from her second drawer. Her parents were still knocking she told them to fucking wait a moment. She came over to the door and told them they could enter now. Her mom opened the door. She handed her a tray with an assortment of food on it. She told her that her and her father were going out and wouldn’t be back until late. She was to stay in the house and was being locked in from the outside. She snorted and took the tray. Her mother shut the door softly and she went back to her bed. She looked down at her wrist. She had opened her cut by handling the tray. ‘Shit.’ She swore. She glared at the food. There were actually apples and healthy stuff on it. ‘Pissy shit,’ she said and threw they stuff away and they tray also made its way tot the trash can. She listened for the sound of the revving engine to pull away and disappear. Moments later her parents were gone and she was exiting fast to the bathroom. She went straight to the peroxide and cleaned the cut, then took some toilet paper and wrapped it on the cut while she rummaged around for the anti-bacterial cream and the gauze. Once found the removed the toilet paper and threw it away. She placed the ooze onto her wrist and pulled out the gauze, wrap, and scissors. She placed the gauze on her wrist up far enough so she could hold it with that hand along with the wrap and wound it with the other hand at the same time. Pulling it tight and tying it in a knot at the end she cleaned everything up and went back to her room. It was now around one in the afternoon and her stomach roared. She was human too and she just realized that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast yesterday. She went down the stairs and through two other rooms to the kitchen. She went directly to the pantry and opened the doors. She looked through everything and closed the pantry door with a bag of chips and soda in her hand. She always wondered how she could eat so much junk food and not gain but lose pounds. The thought popped in her head when she had for once asked that question in science class and her teacher had said something about the body having a high metabolism will let it burn more calories and such quicker than a normal metabolism and those people we’re blessed with small bodies like hers. She went back up the stairs and to her room. She looked at the gauze and saw that there was blood seeping through. She put her food down on her bed and walked back to the bathroom. She took the gauze off and ran water over her arm to get rid of the blood. She got out the gauze and the wrap again and made another bandage like before. She sighed and hoped that it would stop bleeding this time. She cleaned everything up and put it away in the proper places. She got the gauze that she had used before and took it to her room. She went over to where her lighter was and went to stand beside her trash can. She lit the flammable material and threw it in the trash can. She watched it burn into nothing before going over to get the food from her bed and go back to the corner where her book was. She got out a cigarette since she already had the lighter out, lit one up, and returned everything to its place. She had this neat freak obsession with her secrete things that most people didn’t know about, everything else she could care less about. She sat there and smoked, reaching in and munching on a few chips here and there, when the color red had caught her wandering eyes. She cocked her head sideways to look at her drawing. There was a dried bloodstain on the paper. She picked the book up and sat it in her lap. She looked at the drawing again and thought about how cool it was for it to happen on accident. She picked up her forgotten pencil and started to sketch again, drawing into and around the blood stain to her capabilities. Many hours and her third cigarette later, she looked stoned like up at her silver and black clock. It was now six o’clock at night. She had been thinking a lot while she had finished the sketch. She had been thinking about how life might be if she could be in control with out the worry of her parents, how it may be if she could have a few moments of peace, how she could finally live her life, and now she was going to take it into her hands. She was in her corner with a small white candle burning. It was dark outside and she was huddled near the light. She had torn a piece of paper from her drawing book and was writing words on it with her pencil. She turns from the light with a heavy heart and a sad expression. She folded the paper once and then twice into a square. She took her notebook and placed it in the corner of her room and blew out the flame on the candle. She got up and went to her closet. She reached in for her best attire. It was a dress her best friend had gotten her. It was black, of course, it came flowing to the floor, it had a built in corset that ties in the back and small straps about and inch and a half wide that creased. She stripped from her leather jeans and her tee shirt and put on the dress. She zipped up the zipper with ease from the many days of practice that her friend suggested. Then she took the strings and pulled on them tightly. Once tight enough she tied them in a bow. She went back to her closet and searched around. She found her boots, ones that ties and zipped up the side, steel tow, and buckles that went in the front. She sat down on her bed and put them on. She went to her mirror and looked at her reflection. She plastered on her makeup and gave her face a twist. She adorned her eyes with heavy mascara and then took it further when she drew onto her face. She drew many lines and when she was finished she had butterfly wings on her face. She painted her eyes with grey eye shadow and her lips with a black lipstick. Her nails had been painted black already and she felt that she was now done. She left the mirror, went to the door and out into the hallway. She made an immediate left, past the stairs that goes down and into her parents’ bedroom. She went to her mothers’ dresser and pulled out the drawer for the jewelry box. She pulled out the rose made of rubies that her dad gave to her when they were going out. As a child she always played with it for amusement and it gave her bittersweet memories. She fastened the chain around her neck and it fitted perfectly on her. She then went across the room to her fathers’ dresser. She went through each drawer until the third one down had what she wanted: his gun. There was a cartridge and a box of rounds next to it. She pulled two rounds from the box and placed it in the cartridge and placed the cartridge in the gun. She went to their closet and found the tape recorder and tripod. She rummaged around in the tapes and found a blank one. She gathered her items and went back to her room for one more thing. She went to her dresser and pulled out the razor blade from under her clothes. She exited once more and shut the door, and headed downstairs to the hallway bathroom. She set up the tripod and the recorder so it would record the image in the mirror. She placed the tape in, set the gun down on the counter, exited the room, grabbed the phone from the cradle and returned. She turned on the recorder and dialed a few numbers. She listened for the person on the other side. ‘Hello?’ Came a drowsy male voice, she bit her lip and then spoke. ‘Hey it’s me. There’s something I need to talk to you about.’ ‘Huh? Oh um, alright then, go for it.’ She took a deep shuddering breathe and told him. ‘I called you to tell you I love you okay?’ She cracked and tears began to pour from her face like water from a dam. ‘Hey, are you okay? Hey hello? Are you alright?’ ‘I love you, please don’t forget that. It’s just too hard to continue on without you.’ ‘Hey, something’s wrong. Talk to me please. Hello-' she set the phone down on the counter. ‘I love you. I love you all so very much. Mom, I’m sorry for being so mean and dad, I’m sorry for not obeying. To my gram and gramps, I’m sorry for not listening and to everyone else, whatever I may have done to upset you in any way, I’m sorry. I love you all.’ She looked at the phone and then back to the mirror, her tear streaked face with running butterfly wings. ‘Please sell my art to charity and to help pay off your debts they are of no longer use to me.’ She looked down and then back to the recorder. ‘To the friends I had, this wasn’t your fault and I’m not worth grieving over. You were so kind to me and everything and I thank you for that. If I ever did something that hurt you, I am so terribly sorry.’ She looked away and bit her lip and started to shake. ‘Good-bye.’ She reached over and turned off the recorder. ‘I love you.’ She said to him again but there was only silence. She turned off the phone. She cried more now. She reached down and picked up the razor. She placed the edge of it to her chest, below the necklace and traced a heart. Inside she wrote with the very edge the word ‘why’ so others could read it. Inside the heart and around the word she drew small lines, like the heart was broken. Blood gushing from her wound she laid the bloody razor back down and picked up the gun. She cocked it and placed it next to her head. She started sobbing now, gasps for air robbing her of her soul. Her very mind was questioning her reason of methods but finally she gave in. She closed her eyes, prayed in the form of the church and pulled the trigger.

Thirty minuets later he showed up at her door. He unlocked the lock from the outside and opened the door. He called out for her but no answer came back. He looked around and spotted an open door with a light in it. There on the floor was where she laid. He swore and ran over to her. He bent down to look at her. A gun was a few feet away, scattered from her hand when she shot herself. A huge gaping hold went clean through her head and her eyes were closed. Blood ran down her eyes and over her face as her entire head lay in a pool of it. There was another pool around her chest and he looked and saw the carving with the word ‘why’ in it. He got choked up. He looked around and saw the recorder and played the tape. He saw everything and heard her confess her love for him again. He listened to her when she said to sell her work. If there was one more thing that he loved about her it was her ability to draw. He left the bloody scene with a trail of bloody footprints. He climbed the stairs to her room and opened the door. He smelled the cigarette smoke but paid no attention to it. He was going to find a painting that reminded him of her the most. He started going through then when he noticed a strong smell of smoke coming from the corner of her room. He then spied a notebook with a piece of paper on top of it. He walked over and bent down to the paper. He sat up and unfolded it. He read it to himself and then covered his mouth as he began to cry. He read it again: ‘I have wondered what it may be like to live a better live, a peaceful one, one where I am in control and not others. You have waited for me for a while now, so now it’s my turn. I’m waiting for you, my love, I’m waiting for you at the gates of heaven, no matter how long it may take.’ She signed her name at the bottom and he began o cry. A tear fell to the floor and made a soft plunk against the wood. He looked down again and saw the drawing. He bent down and picked it up. His heart stopped pumping as he starred breathlessly at it. It was her in her room sitting in this corner, her walls were bricks and it made them look like cell walls. She had her hands in her hair and there were a stream of tears falling down to the floor. There was a notebook with a smaller version of the unfinished drawing on it, a pencil laying on top of it. What made him stop breathing was what else was there. An angel was behind her, holding her, and even though she seemed to not notice, he held her close and cried with her, a heavenly light caressing the picture from the left hind corner gave it an even beautifully effect. To his amazement the more he looked at it, the more it reminded him of himself. There was a bloodstain across the page that made him think about her more. Then he thought about her note again. He knew what he was going to do. He went down to the bathroom and grabbed it off of the floor. He went back to her room and shut the door. Tears streaming from his face he checked to make sure he hand enough of what he needed, and he did. He stood in the corner of her room and then sat down by her drawing. He held the note in his left hand and cocked the gun. He raised it with his right hand and placed it to his head. ‘I’m coming for you my love just wait a few more moments. I love you Lonely, and we will be together in heaven.’ He closed his eyes and began to pray in the form of the church and then he too pulled the trigger, because nothing, not even death or parents, could keep them apart.