Hey, readers. Alright, so with the last short story I posted titled ‘Love ( and why it’s scary ) – well, for me at least’ I mentioned how I wrote that in an elective writing class that I participated in when I was 15 – years -old at school. This is another piece I wrote in that same class, except this one is fiction. I have to say that I am not a fictional writer, I did not write a lot of fiction back then and I don’t now either. Most of what I write is more kind of…er, non – fiction. All inspired by my own experiences and observations or just my own feelings & thoughts about…whatever it is at the time. Yeah, I’m not a fictional writer, so if you do not like this particular piece or it is not ‘on par’ with all my other work or you do not like it *at all…well. There is nothing I can do about that, obviously but I appreciate feedback whether it be negative or positive, or even just no feedback at all because at the end of the day I choose to continue writing regardless, and my gratitude goes out to all those who take the time to read my…er, my “work”, let’s call it. Oh, also, this one is, um…well. It’s quite ‘dark’, so yeah, I don’t even know what that means but it’s not all happiness and roses, let’s just put it that way.
My best regards, me.
6 – years -old.
In the middle of a small town called Templeton View, if anyone bothers to observe they will spot two young kids playing at a local park. Both young not only in body but also in worldly experience, in mind, untainted by the harsh realities of life. Both completely and utterly innocent. These kids have a bond unlike the kind that anyone has ever witnessed between two persons; one is never seen without the other. Greta Aldrige and Jamie Mulvern are their names.
The town look on them as their ‘beloved’, adored by everyone who comes across them. But the affections of the townspeople goes by unnoticed by Greta and Jamie, as so much of their time is invested in each other that they seem to forget others. One can argue a friendship of this nature, a friendship that is so strong it effectively shuts out everyone else, borders on obsessive. Maybe even dangerous. But for who? For Greta and Jamie, or for everyone else? As it turns out the answer to that question lies in the years ahead. But more on that later.
“Jamie?” Greta implores of her friend, stopping in her activity of digging up mud in search of worms. She hates worms but Jamie has a liking for them so she joins him in his efforts, if only to be in his company.
“Yeah, Grets?” Jamie replies, without looking up from his own scavenging.
“We’ll always be friends, right?” Please say yes, she thought, watching him carefully. At that Jamie stops abruptly, looking up at her. His expression is surprised, like he had never considered the notion that they will ever not be friends. “Yes, of course! Definitely”, he assures her. Greta remains quiet for a moment, just watching him; trying to figure out if he is lying. But he can’t be. He would not lie to her. “Promise?” She whispers, hating herself for doubting him. But she needs to hear it. She needs to hear him say it.
Jamie nods earnestly, locking his eyes on hers to prove it to her, to make her believe that he will never go anywhere if she does not go with him. “I swear it”.
13 years later
“Do you love me, Jamie?” Greta asks her friend of more than a decade. She waits for his answer now, feeling apprehensive but hopeful at the same time. More than anything she wants to hear him say yes, she wants him to tell her that he has loved her for as long as she has loved him. Even if it is not the truth.
Jamie feels like he has been hit in the stomach. The question hurts like a dagger piercing his heart not because he doesn’t love Greta, because he does. Of course he does. He is a paranoid schizophrenic and she is still here. He knows that she loves him. He sees it in the way that she gazes at him when she thinks he is not looking. In those moments when he will say something funny or she will say something funny, or neither of them will say anything at all but then they will glance at each other and just start…laughing. For no reason. In those moments he never knows what triggers their shared joy, but he does know that she laughs just that little bit harder than him. And he knows why. It is not because she finds whatever it is that they are laughing about, funny. It is because he is laughing, and for some reason his happiness is her own; why else would she stop laughing as soon as he does? He can feel how much she loves him when they are together, and it breaks his heart.
There are many times that he has hurt her, too. This girl he has known for so long he cannot imagine his life without her, he cannot see a future without her. But deep down he knows that if he really loves her, he will cut her loose now. In every psychotic episode ( according to the research I did and all the books I have read about schizophrenia, a psychotic break is when a person who suffers from schizophrenia loses touch with reality ) he has experienced; she is the one who bears the brunt of it. Because she is there every time. He has hit her, kicked her, scratched every part of her body that he can reach while she tries to deflect his attacks and comfort him and protect herself all at the same time. He has spit in her face, screamed obscenities and vitriol at her until she cries. Really cries. Anguished, sorrowful cries that seem to emanate from some place inside of her that he can’t see but that he believes is there all the same. Because Greta is like that. Somewhere deep inside she must possess something amazing, something fucking rare that makes it easy for her to stay with him, to still love him even knowing that now he is only fragments of the person he used to be. So, yes, he loves her. He would be a fuckin bastard not to. But he is only capable of loving her when he is lucid. When he’s not lucid, when he is consumed by his own madness and his own rage, well…he fuckin hates her then. All he wants is to get rid of her.
“Jamie?” Greta breaks in to his thoughts, her voice subdued and her smile tentative. That is another thing he hates about himself. He generates fear in her. She’s afraid of him. In all the years that they have known each other and after everything they have been through, somehow all of that has been reduced to what they have become now. He doesn’t know what they are now. All he knows is that he’s confused; because he hates the fact that she is scared of him but at the same time…at the same time he loves it. He gets some kind of cruel, twisted pleasure from her fear. It’s sick. He’s sick, in ways that run deeper than mental illness.
Greta has to go. For her sake she has to go. Steeling his resolve, Jamie looks her straight in the eye before delivering his answer, “No”.
Greta’s reaction is immediate. She flinches like he hit her, and the look on her face…God. She looks so broken and he would know because he has broken her many times, but this has to be the worst. Goddamit. Why does she even want to be loved by him? He is not the same boy she grew up with. That boy is gone. He has nothing to offer, not to her or anyone else.
“W-what?” She’s crying now. It seems that all she ever does is cry and it’s always his fault. All the more reason to get rid of her. “Why not?” she demands.
Why not what?
“Why don’t you love me?” she elaborates. Wait…what? Did he say that out loud or is she infiltrating his mind? She must be.
“Jamie!”
“What!” he snaps, rounding on her. She flinches but stands her ground. “Why don’t you love me?” she repeats, softer now.
“Because I don’t, alright. I can’t. I can’t fucking love anyone anymore, even if I wanted to. You just…you ask too much from me and I can’t do it! I can’t be what you want”, as he explains this Jamie feels his head start to rattle, his bones start to shift beneath his cold skin, the voices in his head start to whisper and coalesce to create agonizing white noise. She doesn’t care. She does not love you, Jamie. Laughter. That is all he can hear now; jeering laughter. Cruel laughter. Mocking him. Jumping at him from every corner of his mind. When did Greta’s face become so distorted? She’s going to kill him. He does not love her so she is going to exact revenge by snatching the life right out of him.
“Jamie?” Greta’s hand reaches out to him. No. She’s going to hurt him. She’s a liar just like they said. She’s probably not even Greta. She must be an imposter. His Greta is beautiful and lovely, his Greta does not have sunken eyes or a gaping mouth waiting to eat him.
“Jamie, please, p-please, don’t do this to me. Not again”, she falls at his feet, sobbing desperately, rocking her body as if to soothe herself. She’s too close. Too close. He lashes out, kicking her away from him. Greta doubles over, her eyes tearing up at the pain but Jamie does not notice. He’s screaming. Guttural, pained screams. So much suffering. He feels like someone is slicing open his brain, his heart, everywhere. It’s like an inferno burning him from the inside and working its way out. He can hear screaming. Crying. Shouting. But he’s not sure if it’s him, the presence in his disintegrated mind, or that thing claiming to be his Greta. Whoever it is they sound awful. So much pain, like it will never end. It cannot be him so it must be her. Good. Rather her than him.
Aspergian*101 