I Am Darkness

I

The bus rattled my brain around the walls of my skull.  Each bump, each tiny indent in the road jostled the idiots of the sophomore class back and forth.  Focusing on the road was the only way I could keep my mind off of everything else that shook around the inside of my skull.  If I looked inside the lives of horses pulling carriages and the girls in white dresses I forgot my two best friends in the seats across the aisle.
My eyes caught their own reflection in the mirror positioned above my seat.  They were the only thing I didn't share with my mom, and I was reminded by it every time I saw them.  I tried to stop looking into mirrors so I didn't see the two targets staring back at me.  The outside ring was white.  The second largest was blue, then gold, and then a black, pupil of a bullseye.
While her hair was cropped at her shoulders and always perfect, mine of the same dark color was longer and ended in split ends and unintentional waves.  My thick, angled eyebrows were my pride and joy.  I'd spent hours with a pair of tweezers and a mirror before I thought they were perfect.  But of course, that didn't stop them from growing back more frequently than I was able to redo them.  I've been trying to integrate an eyebrow raise here and there into my communications.
Bags always hung under my eyes, but never my mother's.  Even when she wasn't smiling her eyes still had that gleam in them.
"You wanna rematch?"  It was sharp and sudden, but I didn't jump.  I squeezed my eyes shut and sighed as if I was annoyed.  I wasn't.  Ned was the only reason I wasn't over-thinking things like I always do.  He helped me forget Michael and Ashley were probably making out in the seat across the aisle.
I shook my head, dark, frizzy strands shifting and tickling my neck.
I stared back at Lancaster county, passing by out the window of the coach bus.  I tuned out Ashley and Michael's laughs and couply words.
Ned shuffled the cards nervously, over and over the rest of the ride. I tapped on the window, probably annoying the entire bus with my mindless rhythms.  I had no games on my phone and I didn't feel like scrolling through pictures upon pictures of Ashley and Michael.
"There it is," people started saying.  Great, steel beasts were staring gaping holes into me from the other side of the window.  The cars looped around the tracks, going up and around the entire park.  Their faces brightened when they saw them all.  Everyone's but mine.
"You have to go," Ashley had told me when the school had passed out the forms for the annual DreamLand trip.  The people with the highest PSAT scores were allowed to go every year.  I didn't go last year because of certain . . . complications.
I was surprised when the next words that came out of Michael's mouth were directed towards me.  "Hey, Rip!"  I turned at the instant I heard my name.  It was reflexes.  Stay vigil, answer when you hear your name.
His green eyes brightened when I turned.  Sophomore on the varsity football team.  Dudebro to overpower all dudebros.  Brown hair cut in the douchey, spiked up with gel, sorta way.  "You going on the Dragon?"
I rolled my eyes.  I should've known this would happen.  The daredevil of the school just has to go on the biggest roller coaster of the park.  The public wouldn't expect anything but.  What if I don't like roller coasters?  What if I don't feel like going?  What if the Dragon just isn't good enough for me, isn't scary enough?
But I answered, "Maybe."  Michael Benson would not get the best of me.
"Why not?"  Ashley's head peeked up and over the headrest of her seat and followed her boyfriend's gaze.  She seemed relieved when it was me and not some other girl.
"Maybe does not mean no."
"You're usually the one pressuring us to do this kind of stuff," Ashley said.  Of course she would say that.  She doesn't know the first thing about anything remotely daring.  Roller coasters are something anyone can do.  You're up high for a split second, only a second before you go on twisting and turning and spiraling.  It's what people can go on to say they did something dangerous.
"The Dragon seems like it'd be too boring for me."
"Too boring?" Michael said in disbelief.  It made me out to be selfish and very holier-than-thou, but it was better than the alternative.  After all, isn't that what being the daredevil third of the holy trinity of the sophomore class is about?  Nothing is good enough for me; nothing is dangerous enough.  Nothing satisfies me.
"You heard me."  Ned had been silent this entire conversation, while I've been leaning over him to talk to my friends.
I leaned back, the hot window sticking to my skin.  I had a muscle tank on, which was off dress code in two different areas.  First: my shoulders were showing, which was a sin against humanity.  Second: the side of my bra was showing, a secret no one could know.  It was the school's best kept secret that I, a female, wear a bra.  It wasn't the first time I broke the dress code and it certainly wasn't the first time I'd gotten away with it.  Most of the time in the fall I had jeans with rips above the knees, *gasp*.  Not to mention that if I wore shorts, they were never knee-length, just as they weren't today.  That's right, I was the dress code rebel.
We went into the park in lines that trailed out each entrance.  I was in no hurry to get on one of those death traps.  I didn't run or cut in line like other kids.  I just waited.
Nearly an hour later, I found myself sitting at the cafe near the entrance of the Dragon.  The screams didn't convince me to go on, as they usually did with other dangerous things.  I liked the terror the second before you're dropped off a zipline or thrown over the side of a building with reinforced rubber bands keeping you from flattening against the pavement.  But those you could say when, you could choose whether to fall or not to fall.  Roller coasters you have no control, and everything is in the hands of some minimum-wage worker with only the knowledge to press a button.
"Hey Rip."  I turned at my name.  The voice was higher, definitely female.  To my left were two girls that looked familiar, but neither of which I knew the name of.  That's usually how things work in high school.  Everyone knows your name, but you don't know anyone else's but your inner circle.  I was told that's a good thing.
A black-haired boy with eyes sunken into his skull and glasses to make his eyes look even smaller walked beside them.  His hair was a greasy mop of curls that touched the tops of his ears.  But he had that smile— not a dudebro, sly smile, but the kind of smile that makes you want to smile too.  He looked familiar too, more so than the girls  He hung behind the girls, gazing at the Dragon with a nervous smile.  Me and you both, dude.
"What's up?"
"We need an extra person to go on the Dragon with us.  Eugene doesn't want to go alone," the ginger girl said.
"Hey!" Eugene protested.  He hit Ginger lightly on the shoulder with the heel of his hand.  He looked to me.  "I mean, no.  I am fine with going alone. We were just wondering if you wanted to go on with us."
I laughed to distract them from the shaking in my hands and the immediate raise in my heart rate, like how a magician does some stupid hand signal to distract from the bullcrap of their trick.  It didn't help that my laugh was nervous as well.
I couldn't say yes.  I couldn't get strapped in by some stranger in a blue polo and a nametag reading Sharon.  I was too young to die.
But I couldn't say no either.  How could I, Ripley MacLauren, refuse to go on a roller coaster.  After all, it was only a roller coaster, right?  Right, and the Grand Canyon is only a scratch.
"Okay," I said without another thought.  My mind raced with any possible reason why I said those two syllables.  Is my reputation really more important than whatever was stopping me from going on the Dragon?  Was I really that girl?
I didn't tell my legs to move, but I felt myself walk to join the group of friends.  The two-digit number on the sign of the ride said I had to wait 30 minutes before I'd die.  Most of those minutes I spent braiding knots in my hair and white-knuckling the railing.  Eugene looked like he didn't know what to say the entire time, and, to be honest, neither did I.  Without my friends or something to brag about I was nothing.
"You scared?"  The silence between us was uncomfortable.  Ginger and the other girl were having an actual conversation as they waited in front of us.  I needed to say something.
"No."  His hands shook as he said it.  I didn't blame him, but I didn't know if it was because of me or because of the ride.  Call me conceited, because I most definitely was, but I knew the effect I had on the straight male population at Annapolis High School.  And that power most definitely wasn't all looks.
"It's Eugene, right?"
"You remember?"  No, I actually didn't remember.  I heard your friends say it and was pretty sure I'd only seen you around school a couple of times.
I bit my lip and answered, "Yup."
"Did you do the Chem homework yet?"  That's where I knew him from!  He was my lab partner in AP Chem.  And yes, I took AP Chem.  Call me a nerd all you want.
I laughed.  "I didn't even look at it."
He laughed, and that smile came back to his face.  It brightened up my mood instantly.  "You don't remember me, do you?"
I felt guilty, shaking my head.  Who was I becoming?  I forgot the name of my lab partner!  I forgot that he was even my lab partner in the first place!
"You're fine," he reassured me, to no avail might I add.  I felt just as guilty as before.
I didn't know how to strap myself in.  I had to be taught to by a lady whose name I didn't know.  Her name wasn't Sharon, which disappointed me a little.  I guess I had no chance in making business being a psychic.
Eugene thought it'd please me to sit in the front row of seats that hung under the tracks.  My legs dangled underneath me, ready to be sawed off by some unknown force.  I squeezed my eyes shut—as if that would take me away from the front of the Dragon—and sunk back into my seat.  I tasted blood from where my teeth had pierced my bottom lip.
"Rip?"
"Mhmm?"  It was harder to get words out.  My eyes were blurry with tears, but none had slipped down my face, thank God.
"You good?"
"Mhmm."  I tried to hide my face behind the big, bulky harness.  My response wasn't convincing enough, and we both knew it.  I was banking on the fact that I was intimidating enough.
"What's wrong?"  Damn it!
"Nothing."  I will go on this ride.  I will like it.  And if I don't I will smile as I exit because I am not some wuss that fears roller coasters.  But as I told myself this, another Rip, another side wrapped a fist around the first, more demanding Rip's throat.
Get me off this effing ride! it screamed.  All I could do was raise my walls and close my eyes so I didn't take it out on Eugene.
His head peeked out the harness.  I took a deep breath, breathing out all the versions of myself, or trying to at least.  I blinked back tears and tried to look normal.  "Well, obviously something's wrong."
"No, it's not—" my voice broke into a scream as the ride clicked and came to life.  We started going up the biggest drop of the ride, nearly 250 feet.  I normally wasn't afraid of heights, when I was held in by canvas harnesses and carabiners.  Not when a big red harness was closed over me and locked.
The next time I looked at him he had a douche smile on his face and light in his eyes.  "You're afraid of roller coasters!" he exclaimed.
I untangled my arm from the folds of my shirt I had twisted around my finger.  My hand clamped over his mouth before he could let out another word.  "Be louder, why don't you?"
"Ripley MacLauren—" I smacked him.  My hands retreated back to fists, nails biting pits into my palms.
He rubbed his red cheek.  "Ow!"
"Don't mess with me," I muttered under my breath.
"I didn't think we were at the point of cliche threats yet."
"Shut the hell up, dude!"
"Okay!"
The train of dragon-headed cars continued to slowly click its way up.  I couldn't look over the edge, but I couldn't close my eyes either.  I didn't like the unknown.  I didn't like not being in control.
Out of the space between our harnesses, a small, pale, clammy hand peeked out.  I eyed it, wondering if it was a joke.  Then I looked at him.  A grim version of his contagious smile spread across his face.  The kind that made you want to smile too.  I loosened my hand from the handle on the red harness to grip his just as tight.
His expression had pained undertones from my airtight grip, but he attempted a reassuring smile.  We were nearing the top, and the only thing that kept me from unstrapping my harness and flying away right then and there was Eugene's sweaty hand and contagious smile.
"Ow!"  He dropped my hand on instinct, like touching a hot stove.
"What?"
"Your hand is burning!"  He opened his clenched fingers, revealing burns of every degree.  But I couldn't concentrate on it too long because soon enough I was looking over the edge of the hill at ant-sized classmates and dollhouse-looking buildings
My heart thundered in my chest.  I was pretty sure it was going to break out of the jail of my ribcage soon.  But the coaster didn't move after that.
At first I thought it was my distorted sense of time, but then the moments kept adding on.  As soon as I realized that the ride had actually stopped I began fidgeting with my harness and the seatbelt-like latch holding it down.
"What're you doing?"
I didn't bother to look up from my work.  I couldn't waste time.  I didn't care what people thought of me.  I was getting the frick out of there.  "What do you think I'm doing?"
"Why are you trying to get out?"
"Have you really not been here for any of this?"
"C'mon, it's just a ride."
My hands froze.  My eyes slowly glanced up to his.  "Just a ride?  This is not 'just a ride,' Eugene!  This is a death trap, so have fun dying.  I'm getting out of here."
I managed to unbuckle the harness, but it was locked into position.  The only way I was getting out was if the operator undid it. That didn't stop me from trying to wiggle out, though.
"As for the fact that I'm trying to get out, I'm Ripley MacLauren.  Would you expect anything less?"
"I'd expect you not to be scared of roller coaster."
"Would you just shut up about that?  I get it, okay.  I've failed my reputation, blah blah blah.  Can you help me get out of this thing?"
"Isn't that, like, a felony or something?"
"You really think I care?"
But then the ride spurred to life again.  I scrambled to click the seatbelt of my harness back into its buckle.  If I had to go off a looping, speeding ride to my death, the seatbelt being on would give my dad more evidence to sue this wretched park, uncannily named DreamLand.
I gripped my harness tight and begged for it to stay where it was.  I imagined it flying up, rocketing me out of my seat and sending me plummeting to the ground.
But if I was sent plummeting to the ground I would be remembered as a normal person.  At my funeral they'd mourn the death of a human.  They would say, "Ripley MacLauren, Annapolis high school legend, suffered a horrible accident."  They wouldn't call me a freak or a loser.  They'd offer their condolences to my dad and brother.
My grip loosened on the handles.  I looked at the pavement below and all the people—normal people—grazing around.  Maybe some of them are happy for the first time in weeks.  Maybe some of them just got a call from their new boss, or new girl or boyfriend.  Weren't they better without me?  Without me in their world they continue being normal people, doing normal people things.
The harness shot up as the ride hurtled down its first hill.  The moments seemed longer.  I didn't get slingshotted out of the seat.  It felt more like I was drifting.  And I wasn't rapidly approaching my doom.  I was a feather, floating down slowly.  The world only went back to normal when the wind caught me, and suddenly I stopped falling.  Suddenly I was flying, with two large, scaly, black wings stretching out my back.