Delirium

Nº 2 - Acatalepsy

Lucien was charming. Of course that was either him or the joint in his hand. Regardless, I had an interest in what stood before me. A tall, almost cartoonish boy with blonde hair and green eyes. A smirk played on his lips as the joint dangled between his teeth and I couldn't help but notice the way he looked me up and down as if to figure me out. It was a piercing look, almost intrusive and I felt as if I had to cover myself up from it. He could see everything, I could tell by the way he looked. He knew and saw everything as soon as his eyes rested on something.

"So," I started with my eyes still on his lips "three grams of heroin yeah?"

He chuckled and put the reefer out as he replied "Im not sharing with your majesty"

"Fuck off, you don't even like heroin"

He laughed and looked to the ground while still smiling before turning his gaze back to me. The tiny speakers in the corners of the room played Elvis and his eyes lit up as soon as he heard it, immediately forgetting my existence for a second and diving into his own little world of music. He was a music lover. That or it was the weed talking. I put my bet on the music though. It was actually sort of enticing, the way his eyes sparkled and his smile shone. Then the song was over and he turned back to me with something mischievous in his eyes.

"I could go for some food." he said as he checked his watch "Lunch isn't for two hours though."

I smirked and grabbed him by the wrist "I know a way..."

-

We hurried past junkies and surveillance ladies with the fruit of our crime in our hands; two apples, a bag of pistachios and two bottles of Gatorade. It turned out that lunch lady Tina was very easy to steal from, almost like she didn't care what happened to the food she had. We could've taken more but Lucien insisted on us eating healthy; the Gatorade was the one exception that made it through. The brownies almosts did too but got declared too sugary for monsieur. It was a feast regardless; way better and cleaner than our usual pea soup or turkey sandwich.

We set up our banquet in the hole, eating as slow as we possibly could to make the food last longer.

"We should do this again!" he said with an apple in hand. "who knows, we could be real partners in crime"

"We could rob a diner like in Pulp Fiction" I laughed.

He chuckled and went back to his apple. More staring at it than eating it though. That was one thing about him; he stared at things. In an unnatural kind of creepy way.

"Man are you feeling this place? The noise is drilling into my head" he said, still holding his apple but burying his nails into it.

"That my friend, is what I call an awakening. Don't worry, eight hours and you'll be normal"

He laughed "and all those shrinks thought I'd never be normal"

I smiled. They didn't think I'd be normal either. I was subjected to swallowing antidepressants even as I tried to get clean from drugs. But hey, anything for the American dream right? Get a lobotomy, pump yourself full of dopamine and have three perfect kids in you cul-de-sac suburban house. Before you know it, you'll be a part of the 1%!

"What do you have?" I asked, curious about him.

"Take a guess my dear, I have the most romaticized illness ever. People thinks it's endearing that I want to throw myself off a bridge."

"Prozac?"

"Zoloft."

"I hear that can cause diarrhea. Do you have diarrhea?"

"Dude we just met why are you asking me if I have diarrhea?"

"Well do you?" I asked, looking him in the eye, not the least bit serious about my question.

"What would you do if I did?" he questionned, smiling.

"I don't know," I said, averting my eyes "maybe tell your shrink to switch your Zoloft for some Prozac yeah?"

"That'd be good" he said, still looking me in the eye.

We ate the rest of the feast in silence, washing down old pistachios with blue gatorade and looking each other in the eye from time to time. It wasn't weird though. I felt weirdly comfortable looking into Lucien's eyes. They were a sort of jelly green that I liked. He was softer than I imagined. More of us are fucked up than I know of. That's always a troubling realization to come to. When you find out all snowflakes are really the same and none of them were special all along.

He walked me to my room and gave me the leftover gatorade and pistachios and walked away looking pretty and also lost. The center was fairly big, believe it or not.

I ate the pistachios alone that night while looking at the moon. Super cliche and unnecessary, I know. But,  sometimes, I liked being that stereotypical teenage girl in the young adult book you know? The one that has one dimensional love problems and minor disagreements with her parents? I felt like she'd be the kind to watch the moon while pining over a boy she only just met. Albeit a beautiful, charming, funny boy.

I wasn't supposed to be that girl though, and my personality was melting right into hers at that moment. My only problem was that I liked a boy and it made me feel stupid and small and all around like a terrible person. How could I focus on getting clean if I worried and stayed up all night like a ninth grader with a crush? It was proving more and more difficult with each pistachio I swallowed and every bit of Gatorade that passed my lips. But there came a point where I didn't care anymore. There came a moment where my mind experienced a great shift. And then it all changed.