Me Myself & Regret

good boy

Today, I am going to be a good boy.

I buckle my belt and tie both my shoes, cause that's what all the good boys do.

I put on my backpack and fasten my gloves, cause that is what a good boy does.

I shoveled the driveway and vacuumed the floor. I folded my laundry, I did all of my chores.

I washed the whole house, I cleaned all our rooms. I took out the garbage, pulled hair off the brooms.

I fed both the dogs so they wouldn't bark. Can I go outside now? I'll be home before dark.

I'll look both ways when I'm crossing the street. I'll eat all of my veggies and say no to sweets.

I'll take off my pants, stay quiet for you. I won't tell a soul. I promise It's true.

I'm such a good boy, so why can't I play? Why can't I have friends? I'll do what you say.

I'm such a good boy. Obedient too. So easy to touch. So easy to use.

So easy to break, yet you always play rough.

I'm such a good boy can't that be enough?

I buckle my belt and tie both my shoes, cause that's what all the good boys do.

I put on my backpack and keep my mouth shut. Then saunter to school with a pain in my gut.

Today I am going to be a good boy,

An unfamiliar hallway in a familiar plane of existence.

The scent of old textbooks lingers through the corridors like the ghosts of students past, stuck endlessly traversing the halls in hopes of uncovering some sort of escape route.

I recall a time when I was younger and cut my hand on the glass of a window that I attempted to climb out of.

I fell two stories and landed on my ankle in a way that made it incredibly difficult to walk for at least two weeks.

During that time, I grew closer to someone who would one day leave me.

Now, every time I look outside of a window-

Or look down at my hands-

Or look at anything, really-

I have to remind myself to forget.

I think that same reason is why the ghosts of this hall are stuck, looping around in circles for the rest of eternity.

But I think a lot of things-

And I am seldom correct about any of them.

In fact, I do not even believe in ghosts.

I just think the idea of this place being devoid of anything other than the scent of stale textbooks is far too lonely for even someone who's already given up on the world.

So I will pretend.

I will pretend that this unfamiliar hallway is full of life-

And as I make my way toward the end of it and back to the world that I call home.

I will wave at every single spirit along the way.

What dreams may come. 

When kept away.

O glory to this blessed day.

What you believe and what you see.

It is real for you. But not for me.

//Are you a good boy?

The girl pops.

Several feet behind her and in the center of the hall, a chair appears.