The Incredible League of Goth Pizza Haters (RH)

Part 39

---Sylvia---

The good news was that Andy wasn't sick anymore. He wasn't suffering and that should've made me happy. I found him on my bed and thought he was sleeping but he didn't stir when I sat down next to him. I stroked and shook him gently. I felt the cold stillness of his small body. I smelled the lingering aroma of death.

We buried him out back facing the vacant field that stretched beyond the invisible barrier of the backyard.

Wally didn't know what was happening and clawed at the screen door, probably wondering where we were taking his brother.

Dani and I cried quietly and placed flowers over the freshly disturbed soil. Nick said nothing but I could feel his sadness. My mom hugged us but stayed inside. My depression acted as a buffer to my emotions and kept me from bawling. Kept me from feeling. It was a dismal day, to say the least, and I spent the rest of it drowning in thought and hushed loneliness.

***

Over the next few days, everything seemed to get progressively worse. I'd tried to keep a hopeful mindset that things would get better for our band and I would feel some sort of heavenly light consume my life and I would write a New York Times bestseller... but all I felt was numb sadness and a hatred for myself. I should be happy. I'm privileged and young and healthy. I should be partying and meeting people and driving down the highway at 1am with the windows down blasting some popular shit drunk girls play while smothering their faces in makeup and gossiping.

Instead, I floated throughout the house searching for my motivation and inspiration, trying to escape my depression despite being locked in a cage with it. I'd begun getting night terrors again, and they were keeping me up a lot. Leaving me not only drained and sad but also sleep deprived.

My night terrors were something I acquired after my birth mother's death. Part of the PTSD. They were something that started and stopped on and off throughout my entire life. I'd begun to think, after not having one with him in it for a while, that maybe when they came back they'd be about Abby. Nope... Nope, he was back...The worst thing was that sometimes they would continue on after waking. I'd wake staring at the ceiling to see, out the corner of my eye, a dark figure in the doorway. My heart would pound and I would stay frozen in terror until my eyes adjusted more to the dark and I would look to see nothing there. Even then I would see the tall, bulky figures in corners and doorways until my mind was fully awake.

It was twelve-fifty-five when I was awoken by the night terrors and I tangled myself in the sheets for a few minutes. In that time I stared at the wall and nothing but the wall until I was sure the visions would be gone. I turned in the bed and found the door cracked open. I never left the door open. Ever.

Logic whispered that my mother probably checked in on me since when I have nightmares I sometimes make whimpering sounds in my sleep.

Yet, anxiety gripped my entire body and my heart pounded. I flicked on the light and through the crack, I saw nothing but hallway. No crouching figures watching me. I closed the door and acknowledged that there was no way in hell I was gonna be able to fall asleep again.

I got dressed and since it was about one in the morning, I decided to go smoke some weed in the park. It was something I did only once or twice when I was a teenager and did quite often in my young adulthood. I got dressed, skinny jeans and a black sweatshirt over a simple gray camisole, and slipped out of the house to the shed. I took a few quarters in case I became hungry. My brother had a weed stash there that he smoked with his friends on weekends. I know because we had a mutual understanding of how things went:

I don't tell mom about his weed stash and he lets me have some every now and then.

The park was only a few blocks away and was a playground fenced in by trees. If you slipped through those trees and hurried through a few yards you could make it to the field behind my house. To avoid suspicion I walked the normal way (sidewalk) and sat on the swings and smoked.

Within ten minutes I was high as a kite and stumbling throughout the playground in a wondrous haze. I wandered throughout the park and ended up following the sidewalk. I walked and walked, past the gas station, past the intersection and into town.

I got caught up in the lights of the diners and stores. They were bright and vivid and beautiful and I was suddenly filled with a happiness beyond measure. I laughed and stumbled down the shadowy streets.

I don't know how much time passed or where I went exactly but I ended up at a McDonald's eating some nuggets in front of the parking lot. A car pulled up and out got Ryan Sitkowski and Ricky Olson. I smiled and waved them over.

"Hello! Would you like some nuggets? It appears I got like twenty and I'm really not that hungry." They walked over and sat next to me. They both stole some nuggets as we engaged in some light conversation. 

"Hello, Via. How's everything been since tour?" Ryan asked

"Um, I dunno. My cat died a few days ago. Andy."

"Aw, I'm sorry," Ricky said and leaned his head on my shoulder

"Yeah, that sucks." Ryan stuffed two chicken nuggets into his mouth and chewed sympathetically.  I shrugged and looked up at the night sky. There were so many billions of stars, burning like beacons on our black canvas of night sky. There in that McDonald's parking lot I swear I could feel their light, gentle and tired and ancient. Aged from the many years of flying through darkness to touch down upon the grass. To touch down upon me and my friends and the dirt over Andy's grave. Over Abby's grave. All I could think about was the countless corpses, serial killers, doctors, and babies that would be touched by this ancient light.  

I tried to convey my thoughts to my friends. 

"The sky is so...," I put my hands up for emphasis, "many." Ryan stopped chewing and Ricky raised his eyebrows. I tried again to make them understand but there was a communication error. "Um, it's like. Just... The stars are all..." I suppose my hand gestures were not helping. Ricky leaned in and looked me hard in the eyes. 

"Are you high?" he asked and I responded in a secretive whisper;

"Only a little. Don't tell."

"Who are we gonna tell?" Ryan asked, "The chicken nuggets?" I laughed. They went and got burgers and fries and offered to buy me something. I gave them the remaining three-quarters I had left and asked for an ice cream. They paid for the rest and we stayed inside where it was warm this time. 

The ice cream tasted amazing but I kept spacing and admiring the wonderful structure of the play place. I must have looked pretty high because I noticed a few other early morning customers shooting looks in my direction. I remembered why I'd chosen to eat outside. 

After we were done Ryan offered to drop me off at my house and I kindly refused, saying I liked walking. They looked a little discouraged though after I asked them where exactly this McDonald's was. 

"You're gonna get raped if we leave you here. Just give me your address and we'll drop you off."

"Okay, just don't be loud. If my mom wakes up to find some car dropping me off at 2am she's gonna flip."

"Do you have any more?" Ricky chimed in

"Anymore what?"

"Weed."

"Yes," I said, not catching on to what he was implying

"Where'd you get it?"

"My brother bought it from the town drug dealer."

"You have a town drug dealer?"

"His name is Michael and he enjoys cars and birds."

"How do you know that?"

"I went to his birthday party."

"Can we have any?" Ryan asked suddenly

"Birthday parties?"

"No, weed."

"Oh. Um, I guess. A little bit."