I'm Not Dead

Chapter Four

A letter came in the mail for me. It was a letter from my eighth grade pen pal. Weird. I opened it and read the letter:

Dear Elliot,

(If you've opened this letter that means that this is still your address which is a huge sigh of relief for me.)

I was going through a box of old stuff from jr. high and saw the letters we wrote back and forth and started to wonder how you were doing. I know it's been a while (five years holy shit?!). So you'll be graduating this year which will be pretty cool and I guess pretty intense too.

Stuff is still the same for me. Mom and Dad are still married, sister started writing her pen pal. Puberty did shit for me. I'm still awkward and lanky, but now I can't brag about being the tallest guy because they've all caught up. There's some major colleges looking to recruit me which makes Mom and Dad ecstatic.

Anyway.

You should write me back. I'm still a good noodle like I always have been. Did you become the stud I always knew you would be?

Your (Pen) Pal,

Landon

It was weird to hear from Landon, mostly because he had no idea I died. I thought about writing him back to tell him I died, but then decided against it.

I went upstairs and threw some of my clothes into a big bag and grabbed the air mattress my parents would use for guest. I grabbed my pillow and my charger and set all my stuff by the door. My dress shoes still sat there, caked in dried mud. I went up to the bathroom and grabbed my toiletries and tossed them into the duffle.

Theo knocked on the door once then opened it. "Got enough shit man?"

"You said your parents never come into the guest house."

"They might."

"And if they do, all of my stuff will be in your room." I grabbed my bag and Theo grabbed my pillow and the air mattress. "Come on. We still have to move shit around at your house."

We pushed Theo's bed closer to the bathroom door so I'd be crammed in the corner. The air mattress would suck to sleep on, but it'd be better than sleeping on the couch. I was given a drawer in Theo's dresser—leave the jokes alone, they were already made—and while Theo aired up the mattress I shoved my shirts and jeans into the small drawer. The rest of my clothes I put back in the duffle.

"You know, you're not supposed to have your best friend as a roommate. Ruins the friendship."

"Trust me, Theo, if I had another choice, I'd chose it." I said and set my shower stuff down in Theo's tiny ass shower. Theo is short. I am tall. I feel gigantic standing in his shower.

"Whatever. At least I've got school to keep me away from you. Just make sure you clean up after yourself."

"I'm your fucking maid. What else do you want me to do? Cook?"

"No. Then you'd be my wife."

Around noon I started to make grilled cheese sandwiches for everyone. I made Theo one, and then Laura's, and then made mine. I was watching the TV, paying no attention to where my arm was.

Then there was this horrible burning smell. It smelled like charcoal.

Theo turned around. "What the hell are you burning?"

I looked down and saw my arm, resting on the edge of the pan, the skin black. I held it up. I didn't feel anything.

"Elliot!" Laura ran into the kitchen and held my arm in her hands. "This is the worst burn I think I've ever seen. How did you not feel it?"