One good thing came out of my involuntary time travel; the money Grandpa Ricky gave me stayed in my pocket, which was quite lovely. Unfortunately, it was worth diddly squat in 2020. With how rapidly inflation is rising in the United States, we'll be worse than Zimbabwe in the next fifty years... I can't wait for milk to cost a hundred thousand dollars.
"Oh, hey, you did it again," Morgan nearly whispered. He sounded like he entirely lost hope in everything.
"Did what?" I asked, pretending to be stupid. I hate how good I am at lying sometimes; it's like deep down, I want someone to notice that I'm full of crap, but they never do. Like Holden Caulfield famously said: "People never notice anything." They sure notice everything after you die, though... The thought of people leaving flowers on my grave disgusts me; give me flowers when I'm alive. What am I supposed to do with them when I'm dead? The only people I'd even want visiting my grave would be my mother, my father, Grace, Analee, and the people I met at St. Clara's. I wouldn't want Uncle Dante Esposito anywhere near it; he doesn't deserve that. As for my grandparents, Rosie wouldn't even know my bloody name, and Ricky would spew some existentialist nonsense about how I created my purpose in life. He's mad about Søren Kierkegaard and probably prays to him before bed...
"You blanked out with a different personality. I'm the only one who noticed it. I think I'm going crazy," he replied in a shaky tone, sounding like he was about to cry.
"Hey, hey, sometimes people just don't pay attention to things; you're not going crazy," I replied in a reassuring tone, trying to calm him down.
"I've witnessed so many crazy things lately; I swear I saw my brother in my room before he disappeared. I'd swear to you, but nobody would believe me. Do you believe me?" he asked with wide eyes. He looked like he was about to break. Man, I was so depressed at that moment I had almost considered hitting my leg.
"Yes, I believe you," I said honestly. Considering that this was all my fault, I had no reason not to believe him.
"I'm glad you do; anyone else would have thought I was crazy. By the way, Ashley is back in the psychiatric hospital, not this one, but one called John Wilson's on Bainbridge Island. Can I confess to you something?" he asked with a tiny smile.
"Sure, what is it?" I asked cautiously.
"I totally had a crush on her, man. She was so beautiful with her auburn hair and hazel eyes. When I saw what happened to her, I wanted to cry. I just hope that she's doing okay at John Wilson's," he said, sighing.
"She is gorgeous. Hey, how is Madelynn doing?" I asked, suddenly remembering her.
"She's totally head over heels for you. Something in you must be really magnetic."
"Humans do have iron in them," I chuckled.
"Ha, that was a clever one! You know, I'm going to miss you so much. Keep the Cut book and read it when you feel down, okay? Promise me?" he asked, sitting up.
"I promise."
"One day, hopefully, I'll see you out of this inferno," he said, chuckling.
"You'll be out soon, don't worry," I comforted him.
"Once I get out, I'm just going to lock myself in my room and watch Netflix, probably. I'm way behind on Stranger Things."
"There's an entire world out there, don't miss it while you still have the chance."
"I've got until the end of time," he jested.
Until the end of time...
YOU ARE READING
The October Amaryllis
Science FictionClive Andrews is a typical 16-year-old boy who never had anything out of the ordinary happen until May 16th, 2020, when he was struck by several feet of ball lightning and nearly killed. After being discharged from the hospital, he realizes that he...
