Miss Yourself

The Worst Day of My Life

This is insane. They took my phone, I'm alone in the back seat of someone's car and I don't know them. All I have is my book bag and a few changes of clothes. No one gave me any information, they just dragged me out of class and there's so much happening all around me. I'm sitting here in the flashing blue and red lights, I've no idea where Charlie is, and people keep mentioning Imogen.
Is she dead? Is that what this is?
All I have is a pen and some journals. It was the start of term so I don't even have them labeled yet.
It's been raining for weeks. The leering clouds are dark even in the brightest part of the day. I haven't seen the sun since the second week of last month. I've heard rumors about the kind of issues this could cause. The park is a puddle and there's some delapidated buildings in the east district that are toppled now as the weather damnage has been too much for them.
It's around one in the afternoon. The last time I saw Charlie was in Farouk's class at 9:30. I was about to meet him in the art room for lunch. It's fish and chips day on his meal plan. I was going to distract him with a playlist I made...
They let me keep my MP3 player I'd been building for him as a gift. There's no occasion. Sometimes there doesn't need to be a reason to get people things.
Something is happening to our province. Something is happening in our world and people want to pretend it's not.
I keep a lot of things hidden when it comes to what I stress out about. Of course I stress out about Charlie, and eating disorders are serious, but there's so much in my own mind I'm terrified to tell my friends about because I know they couldn't handle it.
Like how badly the P-Diddy and Justin Beiber thing has affected me. Last year, when Charlie and I went to that Instagram Historian's book signing I learned a lot. I got very interested in the Queer stories of Ancient Greece but that opened up an even darker rabbit hole. I fall into a lot of those recently.
Pederasty is an apprentaceship in greek culture that has since been all but washed away and illegalized. Today it's simply known as Pedophilia but back then it was a major part of their world. Boys, mine and Charlie's age, would be taken in by grown men with important jobs; Philosophers, doctors, scientists, and celebrities, and these boys would play a sexual role in the lives of these men. To prevent unwanted pregancies, to increase productivity, and at times those engagued would genuinely fall in love with one another. This was normal to their society, as demented as that sounds.
Hollywood scares me. I watched the documentary on Nickelodeon and Dan Schnider. As crazy as it sounds part of me feels like I knew about these things. Like I could tell the actors were hurting. It's a lot to be a provider for your family at such a young age but it's even worse when grown adults think it's okay to monetize your body.
I've been having dreams for weeks. Since the rain started I close my eyes and I end up in an apron at an exotic party. Just an apron. I'm carrying a trey of drinks around a big open room full of people who are gambling, celebrities with pet tigers, and down corridors where each room has a different scandalist act. I ask each room if they would like a drink and when I get to the last room I just see me. I'm alone in a room up against a wall and my hands and feet are nailed into it like the depiction of christ in christian religion. When I look at myself and say, "Hey." I wake up.
That's horrifying, right? I can't tell Charlie about that. He might get lost in the spiral of his own thoughts and end up cutting himself again. The cars leaving the province... what if I never see Charlie again?
That's usually how this happens right? How people disappear? Natural disasters, government infultration, unread details in contracts, suddenly you're in the back seat of someone's car and you're leaving behind everyone and everything. I'm no longer confused, I'm just scared and angry.
"Excuse me!" I say, "We've passed the road that takes me round my house."
The woman in the driver's seat looks up at me in the rear view. She's got a soft, woeful expression on her face but she says, "Yes we have. I don't have much information Mr. Nelson. I've just been given an address and strict orders. I'm so sorry. I can tell you that the people I work for are trust worthy and kind. I only know this because the people we work against are not. I've been ordered to keep you safe- whatever the cost. My name is Robyn Morkinson. If you need anything we can stop once we get onto a different highway, this one's set to shut down in an hour and occording to my GPS tracking system we're still an hour and ten minutes from our exit. I need you to hold on tightly, okay."
The rain is coming down, I'm surprised she can see. Other people are on the road too but it's mostly truck drivers and the occasional traveling family. Cops pass in multitudes every few minutes and Robyn slows down drastcally when she hears them as not to get caught. When she can though she's in the fast lane pressing through the storm almost twenty miles an hour above the speed limit.
We hydroplane a few times and everytime it happens images of my bloody face come into my mind. I'm dead on the side of the highway and no one knows I'm lying there because the world is dark and everyone's distracted. It's all in my head though and red lights multiply up ahead. Traffick is gumming up.
"Oh no..." Mumbles Robyn under her breath.
An alert pops up on her GPS tracking monitor and mentions a pile up. A few seconds later the screen illuminates to let her know she has an incoming call. I watch her press her finger into the green 'answer' button on the touch screen's surface. A man's voice fills the car.
"Morkinson." He says.
She responds, "Doyle?"
"Get off at the next exit. I've got the malnurited one and the girl. We'll meet at the train station." He says.
She pans over on her GPS and shakes her head, "That's Keneddy, Doyle. It's already under."
"There's a trail through the forest that leads out to the next provice. It shave twenty minutes off our time." He tells her.
She tries to reason with him, "What the trails been compromised?"
"Then we'll find another way. This entire highway is about to collapse. Everyone on it will die, we have to try." He then hangs up.
My heart begins to race. My palms get all sweaty. I watched, wide-eyed, as she makes her way across three lanes of traffic. Then I look back as we're pulling off on the next exit.
'The malnurited one.' he'd said, that has to be Charlie.
"Robyn what did he mean the highway was going to collapse? How could he possibly know that?" I ask.
She sighs as she follows the directions off the beaten path and around a flooded city. They have to turn even before the road gets to the first stoplight as it's just a puddle.
"The surrounging area is going to be turned into a mine site. The United Nations have purchased this land and everything above it will be bulldozed to the ground. They're going to start by taking out the highway. The deluge is going to make the ground easier to dig through." She says ellusively.
I press on, "You can't just know a hurricane is going to be this bad."
"You can if you're the one who created it. He who controls the media controls the world, Mr. Nelson. I'm sure you've heard of the illuminati." She tells me.
"Is that who you work for?" I ask.
Then the earth starts to rumble. There's a heavy sound like someone just dropped a building from a thousand feet in the air and this is almost immediatly followed by an orchestra of alarms, screams, and a siren. The fallout begins. We roll up on a small little cottage like building built around some train tracks. Another car is here.
"No." Robyn tells me, "I work for people much more considerate. Otherwise, we'd be in the river right now."
When I thought about my future before it was always really simple. Studio apartment, in a city like New York. Early mornings running in central park, work for four to six hours in an office at a sports magazine company, afternoons swimming in the poolhouse, evenings drinking wine on a red velvet couch by a fire, and sweet nights next to Charlie as we get lost in the sheets and talk for hours. A future I can't get to if the world ends today.
When we roll up next to the car I see his face and I breathe. I can taste that wine from my daydream and fear that taste will become blood.
I grab my handle but it's stopped. The door is unlocked but I'm still stuck. It's a child-lock. I'm not a child.
"Let me out! I need to be with him." I demand.
She puts the car in park and unbuckles, "Okay."
I'm impatient as I wait for her. My leg shakes the car, my hairs on the back of my neck stand upright. I haven't felt this out of sorts since Charlie went to the health institution. I need him. Codependency is unhealthy and that's why I let him go to that institution. We're being ripped from our homes, people are dying all around us, and it is not unhealthy to need him now.
My door opens as his opens and we meet each other halfway. He's so easy to pick up. In my arms he's safe. When I smell him I'm safe. The world spins on around us and the noises all fade into a muted hum as I cling to him. This is not where I thought today was going to go but I have him and that's all I need.
"They shot Tao." He cries.
Oh god. He sobs into me and I refuse to let go. I do, however, notice the dried blood on his neck.
"Are you hurt?" I ask.
I feel him shake his head into my shoulder, "No. I changed-anged clothes. I was hugging him, he-he-he bled all over me. I can't- br-br-breathe."
I go to let go but he clings to me tighter, "Don't leave me."
"Never." I say, "I got you."
Imogen then stumbles out of the other side of the car and she leans against the hood over her arms. She looks like a sad puppy, like Lady from the disney cartoon. Her hair falls over her ears and she's wearing a brown sweater. Her big eyes are wet with tears and she looks tired.
"These people saved us. We were being put down like dogs. There were men in suits and they had big guns that didn't make any noise when they fired. They went classroom by classroom and brought us to the gardens between our schools. They'd just killed Sahar when-" She looks at Charlie, "Well I don't know what happened exactly. It's strange. I can't remember what happened before they put us in the car. I just know this man and this woman getting me and Charlie off the ground. I remember watching them pry Charlie away from Tao."
The man who was driving their car talks quietly with Robyn a few feet away from the cars. They keep looking at Charlie. Like- like he's dangerous.
"We've got a plane to catch, loves. Let's get a move on." Says Robyn.
The man talking to her makes a suggestion, "I say we put them all in your car. I'll follow you, that way if they come up the back I can distract them long enough for you to get out of the way."
"Heard." She gives a sharp nod and then Charlie, Imogen, and myself, pile into the car I just got out out.
Charlie leans his head against me and cries softly into my shirt. Imogen's clearly in shock. She just stares out the window. I'm cold and my skin is eat up with anxiety but it seems to fade as the engine starts and we drive across the train tracks, up a hill, and behind what looks like an abandoned gas station. We drive deeper into the streets of an empty town and eventually the street narrows into a two way road through deep, never ending trees. We drive so long night falls. Charlie is asleep on my chest and it's a good thing too because the trees after dark look like blurring monsters and my chaotic mind imagines covens hidden deep within them holding child sacrifices and I'd rather him not be able to think about the other things that might be lurking out there.
Imogen takes my hand from the other side of Charlie and she says, "We're supposedly going to America. I have an uncle they're taking us too, I haven't spoken to him since I was a little girl but he's kind and he's a published author who works in medicine. Once upon a time he was a musician in a boyband. That's exciting, I think."
"The man told me that our province was home to a quartz manufacturer. They create deposits for technology, microchips. I over heard him on the phone with one of his team. They talked about how a really rich company signed a contract with a car manufacturer about some products the quartz company would be providing but they hadn't asked yet. The quartz company said no and so they're comendering the factory."
I shrug, "What would a car company want with quartz?"
Then Robyn intervenes, "I don't think that's for you guys to worry about. You're children and as traumatic as all of this is you should be focused on finding joy in life. Not about ancient technology and human sacrifice."
"Easier said than done." I joke but there's nothing in me or any of them that think it's funny.
The sirens sound. Charlie wakes up and we all turn to look back at the other car that's being pulled over. Robyn keeps driving and doesn't speak. I can tell though that she's nervous, when I glance back at her she's got a tight grip on the steering wheel and she's biting her lip. I turn back just in time to see the officer at his window. There's a few seconds of conversation and then the officer just shoots him.
We all look away to see Robyn speeding up and in the rear view I can tell she's trying not to cry. She jerks the wheel and divets down a hidden drive. She cuts the lights and slows down drastically before turning into a hidden clearing. The engine is powered down and we wait. Silence falls over us mostly out of fear. The flashing red and blue lights come into view a football field's length away and the alarm grows louder before the car drives on past us taking the sounds and lights with it.
Our driver reaches behind her and pulls close the hatch between our cab and the space of the car where she sits. A little while passes before the engine starts. Music plays... I have this one downloaded to my phone.
'Best day of my life' by Tom Odell is almost heartbreaking as we continue our drive. The hatch stays closed though and sunlight for a new day comes pouring in it's dreadful silver blue as we continue our journey to wherever our driver is taking us. Imogen is finally asleep and Charlie's just sitting beside me with this hollow look of 'half sleep'. I pull out my book bag and dig through it for the MP3 player. I plug in my headphones and hand one to him. I press play on an hour long podcast about zodiac signs and the phases of the moon. The speculation on witchcraft, magic, and ideation around different creation stories help us escape for a while.
When it ends 'Black Friday (Pretty like the sun)' plays and I begin to fall asleep. I let it take me. I'm tired.
'Wanna be happy...'
I'm here again. The exotic party.
God I hate it here. I'm standing by a bar top waiting for the bartender to place the drinks on my trey. The music is faded and my chest is heavy.
Out there are all these people I recognize from Television. Celebrity royalty like Beyonce, Tom Hanks, and Jennifer Lawrence. Polotitians like Michelle Obama and a duke from my own province. Writers like Shanda Rhymes and Quinton Tarrentino. All I am to them is a waiter on most nights. Every once in a while I get a hand on my ass or a tongue in my mouth.
I don't even get paid for this. It's awful. A constant violation.
I look out and see the newest party craze. A new young celebrity added to the mess. Someone underaged and being fed poisons and drugs like it's candy. I can't recognize his face. Suddenly I'm overcome with a need to know who it is. I never care about what they're doing. They've litterally overdosed some nights but I wouldn't care and now here I am taking my trey with an bronze confidence and marching my way to the crowd where they're obsessing over this fresh meat.
Melissa McCarthy takes a brandy from me. Hugh Jackman pulls his junk out of his shorts and I watch David Henry go down on him. I pass two red wines to Kate Winslet and then I'm in the heart of the party. They're passing him around and having him make out with each of them and then he's drinking something vulgar from a goblet. When he's pulled his mouth out of that of the guy who plays Mark Sloan in Grey's Anatomy.
The boy looks up at me and I know who it is. It's Charlie Spring.
I wake up screaming. The hatch pops open and all three of the other people in the car are looking at me. I swallow hard.
"Bad dream." I say and hope they don't ask any more questions.
The driver says, "We're here."
And a new fear seeps into my chest. I don't want to know what's out there. I don't want to leave the car. Here, awake, holding Charlie. It's the only thing that feels safe anymore. The rest of the world seems like it's a thorn bush and I'm on the only bloom there is. Still, we don't have a choice. So... Robyn opens the door.