Shannon's Walkman

T W O

I wake up the next morning, hoping that what had transpired the day before was just a nightmare. I would get ready for school, eat breakfast with Dad and Jillian and Rodrick and Uncle Kenny and everything would be alright. And then I would walk to Shannon's house, ring her doorbell, and Mrs. Diggs would open it up flashing me her pearly whites, and then Shannon would run out and we'd head to school while listening to music from her Walkman. Everything would be like it was before. Shannon would be alive, and well, and still my best friend in the entire world.

I lay in my bed for a few minutes, closing my eyes shut and then opening them, and then closing them shut again. Hard. Shannon's alive. She has to be. I push my bedsheets off my body and head to the bathroom, dragging my feet across the hardwood floor. I feel like I'm not in control of my movements anymore. Things I used to do everyday like brush my teeth and shower make me feel uneasy. Even dressing myself feels off. Once I'm clothed I give myself a long and hard look in the mirror. It's kind of fogged up from the steam so I wipe it clean with my sleeve.

"Shannon's fine," I tell my reflection." Shannon's alive, okay."

My voice sounds foreign. I can't even seem to convince myself, let alone my reflection. And then, I'm just standing there, my hazel eyes boring back at me from inside the mirror. There's a knock coming from outside the bathroom, breaking the trance.

I quickly open it and Roderick is standing there, a towel draped over his shoulder. His hair sits on his head in a curly mess.

"Morning Doug," He says carefully, which is very unlike him.

"Uh...um...yeah," I stammer." Morning."

He passes by me and enters the bathroom." Jesus, its foggy in here. You didn't use all the hot water, did you?"

"No." I reply, and he turns to look at me. I feel uncomfortable under his gaze, and turn to leave when he grabs my wrist." Wha...?"

"Hey, um, I know we drive each other crazy and all but, it's going to be alright. Ya know?" He says, and I just stare at him like I have no idea what he's talking about. Nevertheless, Rodrick let's go of my wrist, ruffles my hair, and then closes the door to the bathroom. I stand there perplexed for a few seconds.

Then, I hear it again downstairs in the kitchen. Jillian was at the stove cooking scrambled eggs and sausage when I strolled in with my book bag.

"How ya feeling, bud?" She asks, her voice laced with concern.
I look at her with an eyebrow raised." Okay, I guess."

She gives me a small smile, the lines by her lips stretching faintly." I'm glad to hear that. It's going to be alright."

Not a few minutes go by and I hear that phrase once more. This time, it's from Uncle Kenny.

"It's going to be alright, Doug Bug," He says, his huge hand shaking my shoulder in a way I guess was supposed to be comforting. All it managed to do though was make me lose my balance.

"Okay, why does everyone keep telling me that?" I questioned, dropping my fork." Hm? Is something supposed to be wrong with me or something?"

Uncle Micky and Jillian exchange glances.

"Are you serious?" My uncle asks, his eyebrows furrowed.

My mouth opens but nothing comes out. I look from him to Jillian, trying to see if there was something I was supposed to know but didn't.

Jillian steps away from the stove and just stares at me. "Honey, you really don't remember what happened last night? About the cops coming? About your friend?"

I try to shake my head no but I'm paralyzed. What I had written off as a nightmare was my reality.

Jillian lowers the spatula." Douglas, Shannon's dead."

And there it is. There's the ugly and inevitable truth. The kitchen is quite, the only sounds coming from the food sizzling at the stove. They look at me, pity in their eyes, and suddenly I can't breathe correctly. I feel sick, and all I want to do is leave their unsettling gaze. Without saying anything, I push myself back in my chair, grab my bag, and race out the door before anyone could stop me. And I just run. I run all the way to Shannon's, up the porch steps, and ring the door bell. Again. And again. And again and again and again. I'm about to ring it again when I hear someone grumbling on the other side of the door.

Mrs. Diggs answers the door, only she doesn't look like Mrs. Diggs at all. Her eyes are puffy and red, as is her nose. There's tear streaks running down her cheeks like gashes on her skin. She's draped in a blanket with purple and white strips; Shannon's.

"Oh Douglas," She sobs, wrapping her arms around me. I stand there, feeling numb." Oh Douglas..."

And she repeats this over and over again. Her cries grow louder, the back of my shirt damp from her tears. There's no Shannon running down the stairs. No Shannon with her Walkman tucked into the back pocket of her jeans.

"Mrs. Diggs...um...I should get to school." I don't know what else to say.

She finally lets me out of her embrace and I stumble down the porch steps and down the street. When I turn back, she's still standing outside, her eyes still fixated on me. I try to shake the image out of my head but its impossible. They look so much like Shannon's; a gripping blue that never lets go. I know I'm going to be late to school but I run anyway. Its the only way I can think to not think. Is it bad that I tell myself that Shannon is waiting for me by my locker?

"She's is," I say out loud. "She is, she is, she is..."

Shannon Diggs is still alive.