It was Wednesday. I had spent the last four days under constant parent supervision while I wasn’t in school because we “needed time to adjust to the news.” In other words, Mom thought that I was going to have some sort of revelation and jump in front of a bus. Figures.
I did have a revelation, though. Not a suicidal revelation, but more of a spiritual one. I was reading up on reincarnation and other thanatopsis that I found online. Mom was making chicken casserole and Dad was out doing something like getting drunk or venting to that therapist he hadn’t been to since the miscarriage. I just thought about all of the theories on life after death [or lack thereof] and realized, do I even want to be able to watch over my loved ones? I mean sure, I’m still technically alive if I can but what’s the point? All I’d see is sadness and anger and a possible divorce that’s been a long time in the making.
Then again, I could see them move on and maybe, just like in the movies, I could become some school wide inspiration. Maybe I could watch people I hated and find something to like about them without ever having to worry about them knowing I might not hate them as much as I should. So I don’t know. Maybe I do want a heaven or limbo or something to peer at everyone through. Maybe I want to rot in a hole and that be it. I don’t know.
There was a harsh knock on my bedroom door. I startled and rolled over on my rug. Olivia came in and saw me, a bewildered smile on her face.
“Hey Olive.” I moaned.
“Hey Marzipan.” She moaned back, mockingly. She sat down next to me, legs crossed like in elementary school. Sighing, she ran a hand through her red hair.
“So…” She dragged, “Fifty days?”
I nodded but said nothing. Her eyes began to water, as if everything is only settling in now. I wondered who told her.
[Mom]
I wondered who invited her over.
[Mom]
I wondered why she was holding back the tears threatening to spill.
[Mom]
Olivia just sighed again before a pinch of life appeared in her eyes. She reached into her bag and pulled out – bless this woman – Cadbury Eggs. Those delicious delicacies that graced the Earth. She handed me three and took three for herself. I beamed at her and let one pass my lips. She ate hers fairly quickly, only having one left while I still had two. She looked at me and laid next to me on the Costco rug. Looking at her last egg, she said,
“I guess I better savor these things now, huh?”
“Mm,” I began, “Maybe.”
She nodded, popping it into her mouth. I did the same, the cream coating the roof of my mouth. We stared at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers on my ceiling. I put them up there when I was eight and obsessed with astronomy. Constellations were my life at that time. They seemed so beautiful and magical. They seemed like they could do anything. Then I remembered that they will only ever be balls of fire so old that my wishes were dead like the star they were wished upon.
“What are you going to do now?” Olivia asked, her voice quiet. I thought for a moment, my mind reeling. Without looking towards her, I said,
“I live.”
