Does this story make any sense?
Meh, this is one of those middle of the night things that I dont take seriously. It probably only makes sense to me.
One morning the Girl came to my room before sunrise. I was startled out of sleep by the sound of her opening the door, slowly/gingerly and wincing at every creak. She didn’t want her parents to know that she came. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and adjusting the black Raiders cap that rested on my head, all the while watching her warily. Perhaps she was just after a soda from my collection, or maybe it was one of those mornings where I had to leave early and go with her and hang out with spoiled richkids while she was at school.
But no; that didn’t seem to be her intention. She walked right past me, ignoring the soda and myself and my room-mate, irrationally named Harpoon. Her eyes were on the shelf that lay along the wall on Harpoon’s side of the room; that shelf where mundane objects shared space with horror and science-fiction.
I nudged Harpoon with an elbow, and he grumbled sleepily in response. His hair was wonderfully tousled in the morning, and though I didn’t have feelings for him he was still rather attractive in a wholesome suburban way.
“Hey,” I whispered. “What do you think she’s doing?”
Harpoon, who looked so thoroughly average he should have been named something sensible like John or Chris, opened his eyes and squinted in the Girl’s general direction.
“Probably just looking for an old T-shirt or blanket in the rag box,” he said. “Kids have endless uses for that sort of thing.”
“She’s sixteen, Harp. Nearly seventeen. If she wants a rag it’s probably gonna be for cleaning something. The kids won’t stay kids forever, you know.”
Harp nodded, his eyes on the shallow thorn-bush scratches that graced the back of my Pearl Blue shirt. I’d gotten those just the day before, courtesy of the same Girl who was currently digging through various boxes on the shelf. She hadn’t meant to push me into that bush, and had actually apologized afterward, but it stung all the same.
“No, guess not,” Harp muttered. “If she’s old enough to do that to you, I doubt she wants to play house or wash and dry the cat.”
But Girl had bypassed the rag box entirely, instead choosing to wander into what, for her, had always been uncharted territory. She was rummaging through that box, the one neither Harpoon nor I ever wanted to see anyone looking through, pushing aside the wicked-looking medical instruments and picking up plastic liquid-filled bottles at random.
"Huh," she whispered."Daddy must know what he's doing."
Each bottle was glanced at, label-read, and quickly discarded. From my vantage point on the far side of the room, I couldn’t see which ones she was looking at. Harp picked up on my awkward position and leaned over so he could read the labels along with the Girl.
“That’s soap,” he said. “And that one’s the drink, but it’s probably expired. Oh, and now she has her hands on some new blood…”
“Seriously?” I asked, craning my neck for a better view. “What’s she gonna do with that?”
We both stared at the Girl, dumbfounded, as she unscrewed the bottle and poured a small amber puddle onto the floor
“It was black in the video…” she muttered, screwing the cap back on and putting the bottle back exactly in the same place where she found it.
“Yeah,” I said sarcastically, knowing exactly which snuff film she’d been watching. It was the one where the government people were putting one of us down like a dog, just mercilessly killing him and chuckling at his awful screams (“Almost human,” one said to the other, as he leaned toward the carnage), and he’d spat out a boiling mouthful at the end. “It was black ‘cause it was doing its job. And the fact that they’d poisoned the poor guy probably didn’t help.”
The Girl whirled around, spooked, eyes like saucers. “Hello?” she called. “Mom, Dad, are you up yet? I swear, I'm just getting a soda.”
Harp and I said nothing, and the Girl slowly relaxed as the tension went out of her body. “Huh, Maddie, that freaked me out there.”
Was I hallucinating, or did she seriously just talk to me? The Girl had named me a few weeks back, but had never addressed me directly.
Asked By: The Internet - 4/19/2012