If I Go To Hell, Will You Meet Me There?

Reads: 126  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 3

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Alex was the average teenage girl. Seventeen and going through highschool was nothing, but being invisible to everyone was, until Garret came along. He was just like Alex, invisible to the world. They thought their friendship was going to last forever, but with disaster looming right around the corner, can they keep that promise?

Submitted: December 07, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 07, 2012

A A A

A A A


April twelfth was the day I turned seventeen. It was also the day everything went to hell. I don’t remember exactly what happened. The only thing I remember was an earsplitting explosion, then a gut-wrenching crack. I was in school at that time. A senior at the local highschool. I was never a popular kid, invisible to even the teachers. Days before the accident, or maybe it was weeks, I don’t know, there was a news report of some sort of virus spreading. They said it was coming through the air, then through the water, then…they didn’t know how it was spreading. They didn’t even know where it came from, or how it was made in the first place.
I guess I should start from the beginning. It was about a month or so between I turned seventeen, and it was halfway through the average school day. Slouched in my seat, I remained invisible to the rest of the class. A lot of the time, I was convinced I was actually invisible, and that no one really could see me. I had one friend, but she had moved away three years ago. We still contacted each other every so often, but with her being the “queen bee” of the school, we didn’t really see eye to eye on most matters.
The shrill call of the bell reverberated through the empty halls and classrooms, signaling that it was time for lunch.
As usual, I went to my lonely locker, walking down the halls by my lonely self, getting my lunch and sitting at my same lonely spot in the corner of the noisy, animalistic lunch room. I expected it to be like any other day, spending my lunch alone in the back of the room. I don’t know who it was, or when they came to this school, but a young boy, roughly the same age as me, walked up. He had a good few inches on me, with black hair and unbelievably blue eyes, and despite his age, tattoos covering nearly every bit of his arms, and his chest, from what I could see. I didn’t invite him to sit with me. He just did. I wondered again where he came from, deciding I might as well ask.
“Are you new here?”
“Moved here about three months ago. I kind of sort of got expelled from my first school,” He said, an innocent, child-like grin spreading across his face.
I thought about it a moment, pushing my tray aside and leaning on the tables, arms crossed over the wooden surface. “Where are you from?” The words slipped out of my mouth, sounding more desperate than I intended.
“What’s your name?” He asked, clearly avoiding the question.
“Alexandria, but most people, if they even talk to me, call me Alex. You?”
“Garret,” He answered, holding out his hand in mock formality.
Going along with it, I shook his hand, a rare, wide grin spreading across my face. At that moment, I didn’t really care where Garret was from. All I really cared about was the fact that for once in a lifetime, I had a real, genuine friend.
**

Lunch was over all too soon, but I was happy to hear Garret had the next three classes with me. Once art class rolled around, I took my usual spot in the back of the class, Garret sitting across from me. I found myself lost in my drawing, glancing up every so often to check his features before looking back down. Before I could stop myself, I was drawing his eyes, nose, lips, hair, everything. The drawing was more of a cartoon style. Everything except the eyes. The eyes were so surreal, that I looking down at it, I wondered if I had even drawn them. I then realized that Garret was sitting right across from me, and I wondered if he was watching me.
Luckily, he was looking down at his own notebook. I watched him write, words neat and slanted slightly towards the right. Before he could look back up, I flipped to an empty page, scribbling down the skeleton of a fox-like animal. Just as I was about to start the outline, the teacher, Mrs.Lozan, walked in and slid behind her desk. Mrs.Lozan was tall, thin, with dark hair falling across her shoulders. She wore glasses and had warm, dark eyes. “Hello, everyone!” She called, her voice echoing throughout the classroom. We all greeted her back. Everyone except me and Garret, the two invisible kids in the back of the class.
Mrs.Lozan explained the assignment for today, pacing between the tables and looking down at the work. She stopped by my table, and I thought she was going to say something to us, but before she did, a student called her over, so she left with an apologetic look on her face.
I felt like art class was the only place I belonged. I was often ignored at home, drowned out by the endless fighting. A terrible sadness crashed into me with the force of a truck as the final bell let out it’s horrid call, signaling the end of the day.
Garret and I walked down the halls, bags slung over our shoulders. There was a long, comfortable silence between us, cut short by a gasp. I looked over at him, his eyes directed to something in the road.
It was a fox, its back leg bloody and twisted at an odd angle. Garret had run over to it, kneeling down on the asphalt and looking back at me, eyes tear-filled and sad. “We’ve got to help it!” He called, and with that much pain in his voice, I couldn’t say no. So, after several attempts, the two of us finally managed to get the fox up and off the road, taking it into the trees beyond. We walked for a good half an hour, though without my watch, I couldn’t tell. “Do you think this is a good spot?” I heard Garret ask, making me snap back to reality.
We were in a clearing, a large rock jutting up from the ground in the center. There was a cliff cut out from one side of the rock large enough to sit on, and what looked like a small cave underneath. The budding flowers gave the place a touch of spring, yet snow still spotted the ground here and there.
“This looks great,” I agreed, my voice soft as I carefully set down the wounded animal. I heard it wince, making me cringe. I admitted, I was an animal lover, and by the fact that we were doing this, Garret obviously was, too. As soon as we set the fox down, the two of us got to work. We were no veterinarians, but it was obvious that the leg was broken. I had found two large, sturdy branches and an old piece of rope that we could use as a splint, and the fox, too weak to refuse, lay still as we tied the two branches to either side of its leg.
In no time, we had put together a makeshift splint, allowing the fox to limp around without damaging the broken leg.
“That was sweet of you, to help it,” I complimented, still looking down at the red and white animal.
“You helped, too,” Garret pointed out, my shoulders rising and falling in a half-hearted shrug.
“You did most of the work,”
“The splint was your idea.”
“But stopping the bleeding with moss was your idea.”
The friendly argument went on for a few moments before a pained whimper sounded from the fox, making us stop bickering. It sounded again, this time louder. “Think it’s hungry?” Garret asked, and without a clue, I shrugged. “I’m no expert on wildlife,” I said, turning to the way we came, “But I’ll head home and see if I can scrape something up to eat.”
And without another word, I raced off, begging my parents would be gone.


© Copyright 2018 Marcher. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

Booksie 2018 Poetry Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Marcher

Keep me up, please.

Short Story / Horror

You're Next

Short Story / Horror

Popular Tags