The October Amaryllis

Chapter 80 - March 16th, 2018 - 3:19 P.M.

We decided to get some food before running away; you don't exactly get far without it. We settled on Chick-fil-A and went with the original chicken sandwich. Thankfully, I still had Grandpa Ricky's money so I could pay for the food no problem. I know I rag on him sometimes, but he means well; it's just that he's long-winded.

Why do I ruin everything with my carelessness?

You should have seen the cashier's face when I handed him money from 1956. His eyes became wide as a dinner plate, and he was about to say something to me about it before shaking his head and processing our order. I was glad he didn't ask me about it; I wouldn't be able to explain it decently, anyway. He probably thought I gave him counterfeit money or something. That's the thing with time travel; the more you do it, the more careless you become; it takes away all of your inhibitions and turns you into an animal run solely by your ID.

Malcolm and I sat down at a table near the front entrance, and I put my head down on the table. I wanted more than anything to tell him that I wasn't thinking straight when I said that we should run away, but the words just wouldn't come out. All I felt at that moment was paralyzing shame.

"You okay?" he asked, noticing my upset look.

"Yeah, it's just wh-"

"We'll be okay, I promise," he replied supportively, patting me on the shoulder.

Are you sure?

I blanked out again, and I remember hearing Land of Confusion by Genesis on the speakers. It'd be a miracle if I didn't dissociate every few hours. What I find funny about the song is the lyrics, "My generation will put it right. We're not just making promises that we know we'll never keep." It's hilarious to me because every generation in history has said that they will make the world a better place while often ruining it in the process. That's the fundamental problem I have with communism. It sounds excellent on paper, but it often results in the suppression of human rights in practice. I mean, yes, Stalin transformed Russia immensely, but at what cost? Good ideas don't always lead to good actions. You know what they say, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions."

"My dad really loves Genesis, by the way," Malcolm said randomly.

"They're a good band; I really like their song That's All. My dad has Abacab on CD. He no joke has like four-hundred disks. Is it weird that I prefer disks to virtual copies of songs?"

"Not at all; it feels more personal that way," he replied just as his name was called.

As soon as I got my sandwich, I took a big bite out of it. It had been so long since I'd been at Chick-fil-A, years in fact. Let me tell you that being a supertaster is both the best and worst thing all at once; in this case, it was great.

"It feels good to hang out with you again," Malcolm replied with a broad smile as I was eating. I'm not sure why but hearing that hurt me deep down; I guess I felt like I was failing him at that moment.

"It feels good to see you again, too," I said with a mouth full of the sandwich. I swear I was about to tell him about my time traveling and how it ruined everything. I wanted to have just one person understand it. I was one straw away from losing my sanity. To make matters worse, this was the shortest straw.

We ate in silence after that. The quietness was deafening; it left me alone with all of my negative thoughts. Another time I'm stuck with a bunch of negative thoughts is whenever I'm having trouble falling asleep; I overthink everything. I once had terrible chest pain while lying down, and I somehow convinced myself that I would die; I spent the next several hours terrified out of my mind. The one thing that helps me with anxiety is valerian root; the problem with it, though, is that it practically knocks me out. I thought of trying Phenibut, but I hear that shit's addictive.

After we finished eating, Malcolm looked at me, and suddenly his entire face changed into one of complete seriousness, scaring me for a second. It was rare that he didn't take everything as one big joke.

"So are we still doing this or what?" he asked in complete seriousness. I wanted more than anything to tell him that I was a fool and that I didn't want to run away, but something inside of me had changed at that moment into a feral state. I had completely changed at my core and felt physically unable to say no.

"Yes, yes, we are."