Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Thus Marks Prom, The Final Time I was Happy and Had Something Worth Living For

 

“So here’s the plan! We sneak onto the bus when the teachers aren’t looking, and then we sneak onto the boat when the teachers aren’t looking. Foolproof.”

“One, teachers will also be riding on the bus, and two, teachers will be checking for tickets at the entrance to the boat.”

“Damn it.”

“How about my plan: We get our own ride there, and just buy tickets from some upperclassmen who are selling them.”

“There’s upperclassmen selling tickets?”

“Of course. There was bound to be some sophomores-and maybe some freshmen-who would want to sneak in.”

“…Does that make us bad students?”

“No, it just makes us resourceful and intuitive.”

I was sitting at Amelia’s desk finishing my math homework and Amelia was laying on her stomach on her bed, kicking her feet in the air while trying to come up with a solution to our ticket problem. The tickets in question were admission tickets to prom, which was something not available to Freshman and Sophomores. Thus, the only way we could get in was to buy tickets from Juniors or Seniors who were selling them.

“Still, I can’t believe you were serious about going to prom with me, you really like me that much?” I sighed, shut my textbook, and turned to look at her.

“Weeell, I feel like I would’ve lost all pride if I rejected you, who asked me to go to prom. Thus, I was left with the only solution to go with you.”

“I also happened to hear that whoever you go to prom with is someone you’re destined to be with for the rest of your life.”

“Can’t think of any more believable lies I’m guessing? Want me to help you think of some?”

“No thank you. Just let me believe in peace that you want to be with me for the rest of our lives.”

“What an extremist thought process that you possess. And purely out of curiosity and nothing more, but why do you assume I don’t already want to be with you for the rest of our lives?”

“Firstly, your bad at rhetorical questions, and secondly that was all a ploy to get you to reveal your feelings. I knew you’d try to retort with a hypothetical situation, but since you suck at those, you’d be indirectly revealing your true feelings for me!”

“I’m speechless.”

“Obviously you must not be if you just said ‘I’m speechless’.”

“Yeah no nevermind I’m not going to prom.”

“NOOOOOOO. I’m sorry please forgive me.”

“Begging is tacky. Try again.”

“You’re going to prom with me.”

“So not even a question this time huh!?” I smiled to myself and turned back around to work in my schoolwork again. “I’ll go to the stupid prom with you.” I turned my head slightly so I could watch her eyes light up in excitement and anticipation. “Only because if we don’t go, you’ll lock yourself in your room crying and my mom will get mad at me.”

“And that’s the only reason?” She said with a sly smile on her face. I hesitated before answering.

“…That’s the only reason.” Unbeknownst to me however, I was blushing, which only served as more fuel and material for her to tease me with. However, she merely stayed smiling and did a somersault on her bed, successfully rolling off her bad and into a standing position. Wait back up, how the bell did she do that? That was impressive as hell please teach me how to do that one day.

She started to walk towards me in silence. She had yet another look on her face I hadn’t seen before. She stopped right as she reached me and just stared at me. She reached her long, slender arms out and grabbed my neck, positioning her hands right underneath my ears so that her thumbs could tickle my earlobes.

“You said a really nice thing…so I’ll give you a half reward.” She said this as she pulled my head towards her. My perception seemed to malfunction; I was trapped in a daze. One moment I felt her hands on my neck and the next I felt a warningly soft sensation on my lips. When she pulled away, the violent blush on her face seemed to grow with each passing second.

“You’re welcome.” She managed to vocalize into existence. I was at a loss for words, was it even right for me to say something? Also did that really just happen?? My first time, just like that?? Oh well, not like I regretted it.  And it was just then I found the perfect thing to say in order to get back at her for the surprise-yet welcomed-assault.

“You’re a terrible kisser.”

“Well SORRY I’m not a pro.” She yelled back at me. “…that was my first kiss too…”

I don’t know why I said what I said next, maybe I was just caught up in the moment, or maybe it was how I was truly feeling at the time.

“Well…you can practice and get better with me as much as you want…you know?” Initiate Blush. Initiate Instant Self-Regret. Initiate Awkwardness. But it really wasn’t that bad, as long as we were both happy, we could traverse over any obstacle that blocked our path. “By the way, I never found out, but when is prom?” I asked, needing a desperate escape from the tangible silence.

“Hmm, oh, it’s this Saturday.”

What. The. Fuck. My fingertips trembled.

“This Saturday…as in three days away?” She had better not say ye-

“Yeah. This Saturday. Wait, don’t you have your outfit already?” I gave her a look chock-full of evilness incarnate as if to signify “No I have not.”

“Oops.” She said while striking a cute pose in order to lessen my appropriate rage; it only lessened about 5% of my anger by the way. I groaned for what felt like a minute straight and finally gave in.

“Fine. I’ll be going clothes shopping tomorrow, so you’re walking home by yourself.”

“Oooh, I wanna come with.”

“No.”

“Aww whyyyyy?”

“Would you let me come with you to watch you try on dresses and such?”

“…”

“I rest my case.” And with that, any futile resistance was shot down. Any who, just as I had planned right in that moment, I immediately went to the mall after school the next day in order to go suit shopping. I was thinking of just going with a classic black suit, black pants, black tie, and maybe a red shirt in order to give it some flair. That was all easy enough to get, the real difficulties in decision making came to light when it came time to picking out what shoes I would wear. In the right corner we have the classic, timeless, unoriginal-yet-still-somehow-making-it-work fancy black dress shoes, and in the left corner we have red high-top Converse, the shoe brand I wear exclusively. 

“It’s prom so I need a level of sophistication, so the dress shoes are the obvious choice, but then again, something about the suit and Converse combo just sounds so appealing. And it’s not like the Converse aren’t stylish enough to fit in with the suit, in fact they might compliment the clashing of what one would consider formal and informal quite well…god this is tough.”

“I personally like the chucks; you should go with those.”

“Good idea.” I said before realizing what I had just said, wait who the hell is this??

I turned around and it was a salesclerk, apparently, I looked stressed out, and so he walked over to help me, but he instead found me muttering while holding a pair of chuck’s next to a pair of dress shoes.

“I’m assuming it’s for a prom, right? Believe it or not, you’re not the first guy who’s walked in struggling to figure out what shoes are better; sneakers versus dress shoes is a long battle with a very-bloodied history.”

“Yeah, and I think I’m leaning more towards the Converse side. What would you recommend?”

“Well…I’d have to say go with the chucks because your feet will be blistered and hurt like hell wearing these dress shoes after five minutes tops.”

“Ahh, didn’t think of that. Well then I’ll go with the Converse then, thanks.”

“Good choice, c’mon, I’ll ring you up.” He motioned for me to follow him, and I obliged. After he finished boxing up my newest purchase, he called me over to the side; it seemed he had one last thing to say. Well, considering how nice he was, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to at least hear what he had to say. Seriously, this guy was even more helpful than even my own moth-

“It’s time to wake up soon.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The day of prom was finally upon us, how exciting. Well, actually, I was genuinely pretty excited. My mom even gave us permission to ride the car up there on our own because I had my license, so we planned to leave a few hours early. The prom itself was being held on a rented-out yacht that would circle around the San Francisco Bay. Though I had been to the bay more times than I could count, and when considered the fact that I can also go whenever I want, it was kind of disappointing, but I mean, it’s still a yacht you know? But this trip fifteen minutes down the road was extra special this time, mainly because I had a purposeful reason for going and because I had someone I was going with. We heard that the yacht left the harbor at 6PM, so we had to actually be on the ship by 5:45, and usually this wouldn’t be a problem for me, considering I always like to be somewhere at least twenty minutes before I need to. That said, it’s a completely different kind of suffering when your time limit is approaching and you’re still waiting for someone to finish getting ready. I considered leaving already, but apparently, it’s considered bad practice to abandon your date. Even if they’re taking forever! So instead, I stood outside her front door tapping my foot while continuously checking my watch. I’m leaving at 5:25, I said to myself.

I checked my watch. 5:25. I started tapping my foot faster.

I checked my watch again. 5:30. I began to bite my lip.

5:35. What.

5:40. The.

5:45. Hell.

As soon as the clock turned 5:49, I finally herd the door behind me begin to unlock. I turned around with an angry scowl on my face, but it was instantly dismembered at the sight in front of me. If I had to sum it up in one word: Beauty incarnate. Now I know that was two words but c’mon hear me out, I’m definitely not at peak mental performance when subjected to that display of seduction. She had her long black hair tied up in a bun and she was wearing a long red dress that matched my shirt and my shoes. Her words were what brought me back to reality and helped me regain my composure.

“Sorry, you weren’t waiting long, were you?” She’s joking right. The damn boat is leaving in eleven minutes.

“You’re joking right? The damn boat is leaving in eleven minutes.”

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“Oh really? That’s more than enough time.” Once again, I found myself with a migraine whenever I interacted with this girl, how easy-going can a person be without endangering themselves?

“How? How are we going to make it on time now?”

“Hmm? My mom, she’s driving us there.”

“Oh really? And when was I told about this?”

“Just right now.” She smiled beautifully as she pulled my arm closer towards herself. “By the way,” she started to blush, I’m getting a bad feeling. “…aren’t you going to compliment me?” Ahh, so that’s what she was talking about. And though she was indeed very beautiful, and the desire to tell her that and embrace her was tickling me almost past the point of no return, I prioritized revenge over expression of feelings.

“Nahh, I don’t really feel like it.” She stared at me with a gaping mouth. “Close your mouth, you don’t want to catch flies.” I am very much enjoying myself if you were wondering. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late.”

“COME ONNNNNNN!!!!” I smiled as I climbed into the car, amidst the screams from the girl I love.

“Hurry up, if we miss the boat departure, I’m gonna be reeeal disappointed.” I patted the seat inside the car next to me, motioning for her to sit down. Tears still in her eyes, she obliged and threw herself into the car, but more so on top of me. In fact, within a moment’s notice, she had climbed on top of me and straddled my lap. She once again put her hands on my neck underneath my ears and pulled my head upwards so our eyes would lock.

“I’ll get you to say I look beautiful, I swear.” She then went ahead and kissed me on my left cheek, before getting off me and sitting in her own seat.

“…Was that a challenge against me?” I asked.

“Yeah. And I’m gonna win.”

“I see, well, we’ll see about that.”

As the face-off between us had begun, Amelia’s mom walked out of the house and got into the car to drive us to the dock with the yacht. As for getting to the yacht in time, we arrived at the pier at 5:58, and after checking my watch I saw that it turned 5:59 exactly as soon as we stepped on the boat. And as soon as we stepped onboard, the hostess behind us shut the door and the ships horn blew.

“Damn you, we almost missed the boat.” I grimaced to Amelia whilst out of breath. I sighed once more, my most used characteristic. “Let’s go.” I said as I held out of my hand for Amelia to grab. She took it, and we walked up the grand staircase in front of us and onto the ship deck. Now I won’t bore you with all of the details of what we did that night, because the truth is there really was nothing special in particular, we simply had a good time being with each other like we usually did. However, I will tell you about the climax of the night: The Slow Dance. Keep this in mind: I am not a dancer, nor have I ever learned to dance. So, when I heard the slow music begin to play, I panicked. Amelia’s face lit up, and mine gloomed.

“Please. PleasePleasePleasePleasePleasePleasePleaseeeeeee.” She began to whine, almost as if she knew I wouldn’t want to do this.  

“No. Hell no. Hell no.” She had a look of despair on her face, but then a troublesome smile appeared on her face. Uh oh, my Danger Detector is going off again.

“Ohhhhh, I get it. You refusing to dance with me is because you’re nervous about dancing with such a beautiful girl like me, right? Because it’s definitely not the fact that you don’t know how to slow dance, because slow dancing is basic and simple, so it’s something you know how to do, right?”

I was trapped. She successfully cornered me, and I have no perfect escape route. If I say no to her slow dance, that’s the same as admitting to her that I think she’s beautiful-which she is-because she knows I don’t have the lack-of-pride to admit I don’t know how to dance; and if I do accept her dance, I’ll only make a fool out of myself. Gahh what do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I d- That’s it. I’ve got it. Hah, talk about a risky move. I took a deep breath and stood up. Amelia’s face went straight.

“Come on, we don’t want to miss the dance.” I said as I offered out my hand to her. She hesitated for a second, but after seeing the unwavering determination in my face, she stood and took my hand. I led her to this one part of the dance floor where the spotlight almost never reached it completely. As soon as we found ourselves standing face-to-face, I began the enactment of my plan. I put my hand on her waist and pulled her close to me. Very close. Too close. I felt a sensation on my chest which should not be felt. This would be tough. Amelia’s eyes widened as she couldn’t figure out my plan.

“W-wait, what are you doi-” She began to question me and my actions, but I interrupted her by moving her bang from in front of her forehead to behind her ear, which initiated a violent chemical reaction in which her blush was ignited like a nuke. I knew that the next few words uttered from my mouth would either make or break my victory in this contest, I can only hope that it catches her off-guard enough. See, this strategy I’m about to employ works well in most scenarios in where you’re being blackmailed because you don’t want to do something: Do it anyway. In this case, I’m in this competition with Amelia in which she will try to get me to call her beautiful-which once again, she is-and I am trying my damn hardest to not do that, so, the best solution for me to get out of this predicament would be for me to directly challenger her and say the very words she expects me to say the least.

“Amelia…you’re beautiful.” My breath stopped in anticipation of the reaction.

“Huh?” Her voice creaked. My gamble paid off, I won.

“Amelia…you’re soooo cute. I wish I could be with you like this for eternity.”

“Ahhhh…” I pulled her tighter and closer to me as I leaned in to her to whisper into her ear. I was gonna go all out. I was gonna do whatever it took. I was gonna win.

“Lia…I love you.” I said this, and as soon as I did, I pulled her face closer towards mine and embraced her lips with my own. Maybe I got a little caught up in the moment, or my actions were those of my suppressed feelings and emotions seeping out, either way it worked well, maybe even a little too well.

“…I know what you’re getting at.” She quietly says to me. “You tried to overwhelm me by saying things the things I wanted to hear.” Hm, it appears she figured me out, but I think it doesn’t matter. “Hah, jokes on you, I still won in the end.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if you just said we both won?”

“Maybe so.”

This damn girl who does nothing but bring me headaches and cause me migraines, this damn girl who I grew up alongside with, this damn girl who despite everything was always there for me, this damn girl who I slowly but surely fell in love with over the course of our lives. It’s always been hard for me to talk about my feelings, but there are only a few things I am undoubtedly sure of now:

“Amelia, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“…Is that a proposal?”

“Yeah, you can take it as one if you want.”

“How exciting; I accept. I want to spend the rest of my life with you too, it’s what I’ve wanted ever since I first learned what love was.”

I love Amelia, that is one of the only things I am completely sure of. I want to spend my life with her, that is another thing I’m sure of. Everything else doesn’t matter to me, for as long as I have Amelia in my life, that’s all that matters. And the best part? We have our entire lives to be happy together, and I won’t let anyone come between us. Dancing until we were forced to leave, and then our dance continued throughout the city at night. Nobody could come between us. Not even the gods in the heavens themselves could tear us apart.

           

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dawn had yet to come.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's time to wake up. The world froze. The flow of time was rudely interrupted and made a mockery of itself.

Did you have a good dream? What is this? What’s going on? Whose voice is that? Why is this happening to me?

You had plenty of time to escape reality, now it’s time to come back to the real world. What do you mean by real world? What is reality, what is not reality?

Wake up.

I woke up in a cold sweat. I smacked my alarm clock off my nightstand and hurt my hand in the process. I feel like I just had a violently assaultive dream, what was it about again? It probably wasn’t all that important if I can’t remember it. What happened last night after me and Amelia left the prom? I can’t remember. My head hurt. My heart ached longingly for some reason. My stomach did flips inside of me. Anyway, just as I did every other morning, I got ready for school as usual, albeit a bit faster than usual, and walked outside into the cold. Just as I had finally gotten a good reason to go to school, that is, a reason to look forward to school, it seemed my life was on its rise. I walked outside to the edge of my driveway, stood there, and waited.

Five minutes goes by. I continuously check my watch, but she always takes forever so that’s nothing new.

Ten minutes goes by. I become increasingly anxious; something feels off.

Fifteen minutes go by. I start to become worried, maybe something bad happened last night and I just don’t remember it?

Finally, after twenty minutes, I decided to walk around the corner of my fence and up to Amelia’s door to see what was taking her so long. And that’s when I saw it.

Her house…was gone. Or rather, it would be more correct to say that it was never there in the first place. In the front yard sat a buried-deeply “For Sale” sign that had a date from fourteen years ago on it. Which meant that this house hadn’t been sold or bought in the past fourteen years.

“What’s going on?” Maybe the truth of the matter hadn’t sunk into me yet. Or maybe I had already figured it out, but I was in denial. Either way, on that fateful day, everything came to a head and was concluded.

Fifteen years. Fifteen years’ worth of memories. Fifteen years’ worth of emotions. Two years of pure and unrivaled love and all its expression. All of it…. gone.

Everything was a dream. None of it was real. Amelia wasn’t here. No, Amelia isn’t real. She never was real. Everything was fake, everything was a dream.

            I fell to my knees in front of the abandoned house and began crying. Bawling. Weeping. Sniveling. Whimpering. Whining. Squalling. Mewling. Sobbing. I began to cry. Instinctively, I pulled out my phone and checked the date.

            August 20^th, 2019. Also known as the day I first started High School. I began to sob even louder while punching the hound over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over.

            “Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? WHY!?”

           For every time I had screamed out why, I had punched the asphalt beneath me until my knuckles were nothing left than broken, bloodied pieces of pink flesh. Blood poured from my hands and down the sewage drain on the curb.

            It didn’t hurt. Or rather I merely ignored the pain. Yes…that is the correct solution in the long run. When faced with problems and adversaries you can’t overcome, the best solution is to ignore it. You should cuddle up with your legs in a ball, cover your ears, and ignore it until that particular emotion or feeling goes away. Or better yet, find an outlet that lets you voice your distraction. Find that special something that allows you to completely forget about and ignore your problems. Find that one thing that you’re actually pretty good at, that one thing that expresses your emotions in a way nothing else could ever compare to, that one thing that if ever found out by anyone would result in heaps of forcefully administered therapy and mental help, that one thing that you will never abandon because it will never abandon you, that one thing that no one who lives in this world has the right to criticize you for doing it, that one thing that no matter how damning and destructive it be in the moment, gives a momentary sense of relief and compassion when you can’t find something else anywhere whatsoever, that thing in question is something useful, something definite, something callous, unethical, and unsympathetic for whatever mental struggle one is currently facing: Thus,

            Self-Harm finally becomes a habit.

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