Dear Cecilia,
It's been 2 years, 11 months, 25 days, and 20 hours since I last saw your face.
I hate walking to work after it rains. I get up early, so no one is really on the streets yet, and everything is covered in that invisible white mist that turns everything over 15 feet away into an eerie outline of what it used to be. When I look up all the tops of the trees are slightly faded, as if I were really high up, even though I know I'm standing flat on the ground. It's like being on a different planet, or inside a box. There's always more past what looks like the end of the road. Things slowly emerging out of this fuzzy miasma that seeps into my sleep deprived eyeballs.
But I can deal with all that. I don't mind being blinded, I don't mind fading shapes or colorless objects. Really what gets to me are the worms.
Little rotting corpses all over the road, showing their guts and squirming in the gutters. They say that if you split a worm in half it will just become two separate worms; but I never really believed that.
I remember in 1st grade, you turned to me and said, "Hey. Hey, yeah you. Hey, I'm Cecilia, but no one calls me that, cept my mom and dad. Guess what Casey and I are gonna do at recess?"
You were so cool, even then. I knew who you were. I knew everything about you even then. I knew that you ate your pancakes cut like a cake into little triangles. I knew that you wore braided pig-tails on Mondays, and a skirt on Fridays. I knew that you could spell encyclopedia in kindergarten, and all the teachers said that you were "gifted." So when you talked to me, I was too stunned to even respond at all, I just nodded at you, dazed and excited.
It's been 2 years, 11 months, 25 days, and 20 hours since I last saw your face.
I hate walking to work after it rains. I get up early, so no one is really on the streets yet, and everything is covered in that invisible white mist that turns everything over 15 feet away into an eerie outline of what it used to be. When I look up all the tops of the trees are slightly faded, as if I were really high up, even though I know I'm standing flat on the ground. It's like being on a different planet, or inside a box. There's always more past what looks like the end of the road. Things slowly emerging out of this fuzzy miasma that seeps into my sleep deprived eyeballs.
But I can deal with all that. I don't mind being blinded, I don't mind fading shapes or colorless objects. Really what gets to me are the worms.
Little rotting corpses all over the road, showing their guts and squirming in the gutters. They say that if you split a worm in half it will just become two separate worms; but I never really believed that.
I remember in 1st grade, you turned to me and said, "Hey. Hey, yeah you. Hey, I'm Cecilia, but no one calls me that, cept my mom and dad. Guess what Casey and I are gonna do at recess?"
You were so cool, even then. I knew who you were. I knew everything about you even then. I knew that you ate your pancakes cut like a cake into little triangles. I knew that you wore braided pig-tails on Mondays, and a skirt on Fridays. I knew that you could spell encyclopedia in kindergarten, and all the teachers said that you were "gifted." So when you talked to me, I was too stunned to even respond at all, I just nodded at you, dazed and excited.
You laughed, a high-pitched fairy giggle, "Just come out behind the maple tree today. You'll see..."
I couldn't wait. At lunch I shoveled my food into my mouth, and pulled my coat on getting my fingers caught in the cuffs. My green rain-boots made squeaking noises as I shot across the asphalt towards you and Casey.
"Hi." I said, spreading my grin from ear to ear and tugging on my pig-tails.
"Hi." you said, not even looking up. You were crouched in the grass with a stick in your hand poking at something I couldn't quite see. You said, "Casey. Here, help me do this. Help. Get another stick, I wanna move it onto the blacktop. Help." And Casey, wrinkled her nose and bent down to pick up a stick. Finally I saw what you were doing as you moved a long worm onto the pavement. It was curling in the air, trying to find balance, it's moist skin, glistening in the muted sunlight.
"Ew." I whispered.
"Just wait," you said, "it gets ickier." And a little smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, as you focused on setting it down lightly on the dusty ground.
"What are you going to do?"
"Just watch." and then you took your stick and slowly- so slowly it was agonizing- you pushed it through the center of the worm, "Huh. Feels... like jello." It writhed around on the black-top indecipherable redness pouring out of it's wound.
I didn't say a thing, I just watched in astonishment, and let my eyes grow wider with every passing second.
I said, "Cool." even though it wasn't.
"Yeah." you said, "Now you try!" and you handed me the stick.
"Okay..." I didn't want to. But if I did you'd finally be my friend. I could finally go home and tell my mother or my brother or my cat that I finally was best friends with Cecilia! Cecilia, the coolest girl. Cecilia the girl who knew everything. Cecilia the girl who was so special. Finally I could be a part of that. And all it took was smushing the guts out of a helpless worm.
So I took the stick and slid it though it's center, separating it neatly into two parts, both of which wriggled and spasmed slowly on the ground.
You were wrong, it didn't feel like jello. It felt like raw meat.
You inflict pain and happiness on all those you touch, I don't know how people function without knowing you. I don't know how people function once they do.
Respond. For the love of god, just a word, anything. Please.
Your friend,
~M~
"What are you going to do?"
"Just watch." and then you took your stick and slowly- so slowly it was agonizing- you pushed it through the center of the worm, "Huh. Feels... like jello." It writhed around on the black-top indecipherable redness pouring out of it's wound.
I didn't say a thing, I just watched in astonishment, and let my eyes grow wider with every passing second.
I said, "Cool." even though it wasn't.
"Yeah." you said, "Now you try!" and you handed me the stick.
"Okay..." I didn't want to. But if I did you'd finally be my friend. I could finally go home and tell my mother or my brother or my cat that I finally was best friends with Cecilia! Cecilia, the coolest girl. Cecilia the girl who knew everything. Cecilia the girl who was so special. Finally I could be a part of that. And all it took was smushing the guts out of a helpless worm.
So I took the stick and slid it though it's center, separating it neatly into two parts, both of which wriggled and spasmed slowly on the ground.
You were wrong, it didn't feel like jello. It felt like raw meat.
You inflict pain and happiness on all those you touch, I don't know how people function without knowing you. I don't know how people function once they do.
Respond. For the love of god, just a word, anything. Please.
Your friend,
~M~
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