My Life Being Dead

My Life Being Dead, Chapter 6

 I didn’t know what to do with this information, or how to feel. I patiently waited for school to come so that I could talk to Adam again. Or see him at least. I sat in Biology and looked around. He was the last to walk in. He was wearing a red t-shirt and blue jeans. He sat next to some girl in the front row, which bothered me for a second unreasonably. I seriously had no right to feel entitled. He turned back and looked at me for a few moments, scrutinizing me, and turned back around towards the teacher. That was the only contact we had that whole week.

I started to day dream about him being the writer of my anonymous notes, but the thought vanished when I tried and failed at imagining his being nice in any way towards me. I really did try not to get my hopes up about him, or about the notes, but how could I not? From what it seemed, good things were starting to happen. Or at least the start of good things.

One Tuesday, a week after Adam’s visit, he was assigned my partner again in biology. He didn’t look at me or acknowledge me. I had expected at least a decent greeting, but he didn’t even look at me. I scolded myself for allowing myself to be so foolish.

Our assignment was to quiz each other for the upcoming test we had. I turned to him and avoided his eyes. I read out the first question. He didn’t say anything. He just stared at me. Then, he raised his hand and pointed to his throat as he “ehemed”. It made sense to me. He had lost his voice. A piece of me rejoiced that he wasn’t just ignoring me.

I nodded and smiled a little. He raised an eyebrow.

“I just thought you were ignoring me.”

He got a scrap of paper from his binder and scribbled something down. He pushed it towards me.

It read, I was. But my throat really is sore.

I reddened. “Oh. Okay. Sorry.”

He shrugged.

“So I guess, I’ll ask you the questions and you just write them down, okay?”

He nodded.

So that’s how we proceeded. When it came to his turn to quiz me, he pointed to the question and I answered. The bell rang too soon, and he packed up his things and left. I sat for a second, thinking. Then I got up and left too.

At my locker, a note was tapped. I opened it, so grateful for the encouragement.

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The next day everyone was upside down. A boy in the 11th grade had committed suicide last night, and everyone knew him. Except me of course; but I mourned anyways. Normal classes were rescheduled and we had a large assembly in the gym about how wonderful he was, and the good times we’d had. The school psychologist also told everyone that if we needed grief counseling to come see her.

Everyone was crying, and I felt so uncomfortable. I had known Henry, he was always so happy. This day just seemed like a giant contraindication to his whole existence. It made me cry even more. I felt so selfish that I had the nerve to cry when he had friends that were so much closer to him than me. They were suffering. I had no right to be as sad as them.

I caught sight of Adam in the hallway on my way to lunch, and he didn’t seem grieved at all. In fact, he was laughing. Talking to the blond I had seen him with a few says ago. Our eyes caught for a second and his smile faded. The girl saw me and made a disgusted face. I heard her say, “Ugh! What a downer!”

He looked away from me and at her and said, “Yeah she is.”

Another stab to the chest. I wasn’t sure why the usual insults were beginning to affect me, but I wished more than ever that when I went to my locker that afternoon there would be a note tapped to it. But unfortunately, it was bare.

Adam appeared when I closed my locker and I literally jumped back a foot and screamed a little. He looked around calmly like I was crazy for being scared that he magically appeared in front of me.

“Do you have nightmares about the strike?” His voice was raspy, and it cut through my heart and sucked the breath out of my lungs. I wasn’t expecting to hear it.

“Uhh, no, I don’t dream at all.” I looked down.

He nodded. “I do.” His glare demanded that I look at him. I felt it.

I looked at him and he continued, “I had a dream that right before I was struck, like the very second before the bolt hit me, I saw you. You were there.”

My mouth hung open.

“You were there crying. Like you were today. It was exactly the same expression you wore in the hallway today.” He laughed under his breath and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Scared the shit out of me, actually. I thought I was dreaming and I was about to get struck again.” His face went back to serious. “Don’t tell anyone I talk to you.”

“Oh of course not.”

“No one knows that I got struck so… Don’t tell anyone.”

I smiled and nodded to make sure he knew I would never breathe a word of it. He inhaled and walked away.

I backed up against my locker and breathed. Words kept replaying in my head.

He dreamt of me. He trusts me with his secret. I’m the only one who knows.