Killing Destiny

Where were you last night?  Did you know? You were too busy sitting with him, talking to him. You couldn’t handle the thought of me. But that’s okay. I get it. We’re better off this way. But you still should’ve came.

            I told you to come for a reason. Why else would I ask you over? I knew, for quite some time, that you did not wish to associate with me after your so called friends found out. But I figured, hey, it’s just this last time. If she comes, then she comes. If she doesn’t…well, we can only hope that what I did was worth it. But this is what happened, while you sat there and kissed the time away.

            It started out like most would imagine. You know, just sitting at home, My Chemical Romance pulsing steadfast on the speakers. Parents gone, as usual—just me at home, alone. And you were supposed to come.

            So let’s take into consideration that there was a possibility that you knew. Did you even care at all, really? But I suppose that doesn’t really matter. Because what’s done is done, they say. And so it continues to be, for the past cannot (and should not) be changed. Are you sorry now? Are you?

            So after an hour of waiting, I turned up the speakers. I let the bittersweet lyrics of Helena take me away, entrance me, consume me. And soon, I was ready.I was ready to leave this world forever.

            I had told my parents you were coming over, so I know they’ve probably had you questioned. “Where were you last night?” They’ll ask you, tears rolling down their faces, and you won’t answer them. You won’t because you know that they’ll know you’ve failed them. You failed me, but yet again…that probably doesn’t matter.

            So. Where were you last night, when I sat down in my closet, candles burning away around me? Where were you, when I said a prayer, asking for God to forgive me? Where were you, when I took that knife, slit both wrists as deep as I could? Where you you? Where were you?

            So I get it. I didn’t really matter to you. But it’s wasn’t that long ago when you yourself came to be in this same position. And I found you, told you to stop. I got you the help you needed. But the one moment I needed you…you weren’t there. Was he really that important? Oh yes--you, the beauty queen...you needed the star boyfriend. No girl would suit you, not even the one that stopped you from making the biggest mistake of your life…no, I wasn’t good enough.

            See, it’s not entirely you I’m upset with. I enjoyed many special moments with you.

            Remember that summer, two years ago? It was your fifteenth birthday, and we went to the lake together. Your parents had a cottage there, and we stayed there for a week, just you and me. We had fun, that week. You may not remember it, but I do--just as if it were yesterday.

            ~

            “Happy Birthday, Lindsay!” I whispered, touching your shoulder gently. I was so happy to be there with you—so happy that it would just be me and you here. We had come here yesterday, the day before your birthday. I wanted to make sure you were pleasantly surprised when you woke up.

            I stood over you, smiling softly as I watched you sleep. You were so peaceful…I couldn’t wake you up yet. The morning sunlight spilled across your face, reflecting off of your long eyelashes. Your brown hair spilled over your pillow, around your face, down the bed. It glowed warmly, shimmering like molten chocolate with a flash of savory crimson. I reached out and stroked it, caressing the silky strands. They spilled from my hands, escaping from my fingertips. I left you alone then, just sat there and watched.

            A few minutes later, you began to stir. I sat down on the floor, leaning against the dark nightstand. Your eyelids fluttered, and then you met my gaze with your deep blue eyes. You smiled, that smile that always made me weak. I loved that smile, because that was our smile. I’d never seen you smile that way around anyone else, so it made me feel special inside that you had an expression saved just for me.

            I reached out and gently took your left hand. I pulled it close and brushed my lips lightly against your soft skin. “Good morning, Zee-Zee,” I said quietly, my brown eyes meeting with yours again. And your smile broadened still more, and I felt myself go warm with the joy of making you happy.

            “Good morning, Kipper-bear,” you whispered, still groggy from a deep sleep. Kipper-bear. It’s what you’d called me for quite some time now—dare I say five years before this? That’s when we’d really began to bond, come closer.

            “Casey,” your voice beconed. I came closer, brushing the dark, long strands from your face. “Yes?” I asked, my grey eyes searching your face. And then you kissed me, with no one but us to witness the forbidden moment. The kiss ended slowly, too soon. But it was not the last, I knew.

            “You may not have heard me earlier, because you were asleep. But…Happy Birthday anyway, sleepyhead!” I held out my hand and you took it. I helped you up out of the bed, and hand-in-hand, we headed to the kitchen. A plate of your favorite breakfast foods was sitting in the center of the table, paitently awaiting our arrival; donuts, fruit. I had stocked the fridge with your favorite drinks, and a heaping plate of bacon, eggs, and toast sat in the microwave, waiting to be discovered.

            You laughed, “Oh, Kipper! You didn’t have to, you know.” But I just shook my head, laughing a little also. “But I wanted to. You can’t deny me that…that would be cruel and unusual punishment. And that, my friend, is punishable.” I gave a curt nod, trying so hard to keep a straight face. You turned around, taking my other hand. You laced your fingers in mine, and straightened up.

            “Well then! Punishable by what?” Your oceanic gems twinkled, hinting mischeif was in the air. You were always the one for antics, now weren’t you? But I just straightened up, much like you had, and tilted my head. “Well, Zee-Zee, it’s punishable with tickling. You see, we call that the happy torture, where I come from.” And so I commenced with tickling you, enjoying every laugh, every outburst of uncontrolled giggles. We ended up on the floor, tangled up and out of breath.

            “Would the princess like to eat now?” I poked your nose gently, sticking my tongue out at you. “Why, yes, I do think I would enjoy that, and very much so,” you giggled, failing to keep your composure. You stood up, and then reached out a hand to help me up.

            “Hey, silly. Shouldn’t I be the one helping you up?” I questioned playfully, allowing you to pull me up.”I suppose so, but I wanted to. And you wouldn’t deny me that opportunity, would you? Because then I’d have to kiss you.” Your eyes glowed in sudden desire, and I found it hard to ignore your wishes. It was your birthday, after all.

            After we had finished all we could eat, you decided you wanted to go to the lake and lay out in the sun. We changed into our bikinis, and pulled over our ripped jeans on top. We walked together, talking about the random things in life. But I realized that it’s usually the random things in life that make life very enjoyable…those little things that make this life worth living.

            The little battery-powered radio we always left out here was waiting in its usual place; tied to a tree, secured in a large plastic bag, and wrapped in two grocery bags. We brought it out, and turned it on. A soft country song was playing, and we slowdanced to it. The lyrics to one of the verses will be forever imprinted upon my mind.

            “’Good morning, beautiful; how was your night? Mine was wonderful, with you by my side. And I open my eyes to see your sweet face, and it’s a, ‘Good morning, beautiful,’ day…’” We rocked fluidly to the music, leaving our footprints in the sifting sand beneath us. As the song ended, I spun you around. You laughed and pulled me towards the water. We splashed, running after one another, acting like kids again. It was like when we had first met in preschool, and our parents couldn’t get us to come home because we didn’t want to leave each other.

            Our parents hadn’t know about us. Well, they had known we were very close, but they had not known that we were close in more ways just just the ones they had seen. See, they frowned upon homosexuality. But we weren’t lesbians, is the thing. We just found out that we felt different things about each other that needed to be explored, nurtured. And so we did.

            Lindsay, you were amazing that day. We laid out a blanket, and made out beneath the sun. The water droplets rolling off our skin eventually soaked the large expanse of blue fabric, but we didn’t care. You fell asleep in my arms, a hand over mine as it rested on your stomach.

            I saw your scars. The dark scars looked angry, forbidding. But I smiled softly, seeing them. If I had not stopped you, we would not have ever gotten to experience these feelings. I was so perturbed, not understanding why you didn’t come to me in the first place. But I guess that all that mattered was that you asked for help and I gave it.

            When you woke up, I was resting my head against yours. It was almost dinner time, and I knew you’d be hungry. I was going to take you out to see the sunset after dinner, so I wanted to hurry up and get home. As we walked, I didn’t say all that I wanted to. I wanted to know if you’d stop me, just as I’d stopped you. But that was fine, because I knew I could ask later.

            After we had eaten, we sat in the living room for a little bit. The plush couches swallowed us up, and we found ourselves dozing off. Once your head had rested heavily against my chest, pinned down my black hair, and your hand slipped out of mine, I realized that it was time for the sun to begin to set. And although you were so adorable when you were sleeping, I woke you, and we sat out there and watched it together.

            “Aww, Kipper-bears! What’s the matter?” You asked, tracing hearts on my hand. I smiled softly, and tickled you lightly. “I was just wondering something. If…well, if I ever tried to off myself, would you stop me?” I tilted my head, trying to meet  your reassuring gaze.

            You squeezed my hand. “Of course, Casey! You’re my best friend…there’s no way I could afford to live without you. If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t be living right now.” And then your voice grew quiet. You looked guiltily at your wrists, reliving the moment I had found you in the bathroom. It was almost a year ago, but we still found it hard to talk about.

~

Do you remember that, Lindsay? You said you’d try to stop me. I’m really wondering why you didn’t, but I guess I’ll find out eventually.

I’m not upset with you. I could never be upset…not mad, really. But I’m upset with what you did. Or rather, what you didn’t do.

Do you know why I did it, Zee-Zee? It’s really simple, I guess. Maybe you’ll think it’s stupid. But after you let your ‘friends’ find out about us…there really was no end to it. You made it seem as if I was a rapist, you know. Told them I forced you into it. But that’s not the truth, Lindsay, is it? No. It was really you. You kissed me first. So I’m not the bad person, am I? I take half of the blame for letting it get that far. The other half is yours—it takes two to tango.

So my life was totally flipped, turned upside down. But if you had apologized, stuck by me, I wouldn’t have been so bad off. I was left with no one to turn to. My family shunned me for the longest time, and when they did finally begin to talk to me again, their words were cold. It wasn’t the same…

            Where were you last night? Was it worth it, with the way he held you, kissed you, loved on you? Did he stroke your hair like I did? Did you smile our special smile? It’s upsetting, you see, that something so perfect fell to ruins.

            You never told me why you turned on me. I don’t know. I can’t help but think that this might have ended different—or maybe never have ended at all—if you had just told me. Because it’s fear of the unknown, you see. I couldn’t handle not knowning…so I did what I did.

Was my life a fair compromise? I’m going to miss your smile, the way you used to laugh when we’d go walking. I’m going to miss those moments of bliss—purity at its best.        

            No…I’m not mad at you. I’m actually sorry. But sorry won’t change it. You only have one chance at this life. Even if you somehow take a turn with reincarnation, it won’t be the same. The life you live cannot ever be repeated as it was, as it was meant to happen.

            You once told me, “Hey, Kipper-bear. Cheer up. I’ll never leave you...I promise, I’ll never snap. Best friends forever, no matter what.” I remember it now, and think again. You never meant it, did you? This was all a game to you.

            I really loved you. I mean, heck. I would’ve married you. But I don’t get why you couldn’t love me back…and if you did, why did it end? Why couldn’t you let it show?

            So I’m not mad at you. I’ll just let you read this, and see how it changes your life. I’m watching you, you know. I’ll see you, no matter what you do. I’ll see who you hurt, who you help, what you say. I’ll see everything. And in the end, when you’re finally as cold as I was, will you tell me then?

            Where were you last night?