To See The Stars

Chapter Seventeen: Jack

Laurie Halse Anderson wrote, "When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time."

As I watch the car approach me, the sound of the engine growing closer and closer becomes louder and louder. I close my eyes. Smiling a bit, in a sleeplike state. Not quite registering the situation. But at the same time basking in this beautiful moment.

But as the back of my shirt is dragged backwards towards the curb, and the car drives past, my natural frown emerges. The cold fall air, whips against my bare arms, and the colors swirl into a gray blur. My body remains still, unable to move. There is no noise in my head, no silence though either. Just void.

But then the tips of my ears start to burn up and my heart starts to race. I shouldn't be alive. I should be dead. I should be dead. Why am I not dead! I need to die. I have to die. I almost rip free of their grip and pull back towards the street. But I can't find the energy within my body.

My body is itching to hurt something or to do something, to get rid of this anger. But all I do is stare at the spot in the road that I was standing on. The person who dragged me out of the way releases the back of my shirt, sending a jolt through my body.

Waking me up.

I turn towards the "hero". They stare back at me, their gray eyes swirling in empty space. My eyes find themselves searching for an emotion within theirs, but to no avail. Just gray empty eyes. I forget about my anger, without realizing it.

Until I rip my eyes away, back towards the sound of the car driving away. I find a hole forming in my heart, a loss of something. What that something is, I couldn't tell you. The bubbling rage inside finds its way out again. Taking back the control it had over me.

"Why did you do that?", I mean to say it loud and harsh, but instead it just comes out meekly. My face starts to twitch as soon as I stop speaking. Like tears are threatening it, but I am dried up. An empty desert, void of water. Void of anything.

"I didn't really feel like digging a new grave," They say, speaking with their eyes, so in other words, emotionless. The empty look, forces my eyes away, and towards the rest of the face. It's as if I never even saw the eyes in the first place, and I'm looking for something, anything. It forces me to notice the dark circles under their eyes, the way their white faux hawk barely budged in the wind, and the jagged scar on the right side of their thin pale lips. That bubbling rage dissipates and I forget that I was angry in the first place. The only question, only thought in my head, becomes just: Who are you?

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah...Yeah, I'm fine," I'm being pulled towards them, mentally, yet my brain can't find some decent words to ensure I fulfill that urge.

They nod, before starting to walk away without another word. That emptiness in my heart appears again. I can't let them leave.

My mouth opens, and words leave but the words that come out are not my idea. It is merely my mind reacting to the sudden loneliness.

They turn.

"What's your name?" I ask.

A sneer breaks across their face, and they laugh, "That's quite rude. I don't even know your name. Regardless, my name is Lucien. Not that it matters."

What's that supposed to mean?

"I'm Jack. Thanks for... well... trying to save me, although I didn't want to be saved! So I'm not really all that thankful. On the other hand you did put effort into saving me, so thank you anyway, I guess."

Lucien raises an eyebrow at me, the sneer dissolving, "You have the urge to die?"

"Er... I, yeah, I do."

Lucien looks into my eyes, curiously, yet he retains his cold expression. "Fascinating. Death is such a beautiful part of life. In one minute everything you know can be wiped away, and you will be no more. The only thing left behind is the remaining traces of your existence."

Their voice is cautious, yet strong. Yet they possess the confidence needed to say it with an overwhelmingly powerful voice. "I look forward to the day I die."

"I know this is odd but why do you want to die?" As soon as the words leave my mouth, I start to scold myself. Yet for some reason, I still said it. Perhaps it's their almost emotionless face that made me feel safe enough to ask.

"I've already answered that, in a way. Death is a beautiful aspect of life. There isn't anything more peaceful, yet so intoxicating than death." It's odd but his words seem to pull me in. And I want more.

Being the person I am, I respond back with a quote, "I'm not afraid of death; I just don't want to be there when it happens."

Lucien gives me a weird look so I add, "Um, that's a quote. By Woody Allen."

"I see. He was the man from Toy Story, if I recall?"

Now it's my turn to sigh. "No... He's not."

"Oh."

"Woody Allen is a director. The Woody from Toy Story, his last name is Pride for some reason, and the guy who voices him is named Tom Hanks," I can't stop talking, why can't I stop talking?

Lucien narrows his eyes at me, "Why do you possess such a knowledge of Woody Allen, and Toy Story of all things?"

"I don't have friends so I research things a lot, but that's besides the point. The question should be why don't you know who Woody Allen is, plus Toy Story?"

Lucien shrugs, "I am unsure, I suppose I've just always presumed that there was no clear benefit to watching movies."

I shake my head in disbelief. This is unbelievable. No benefit to watching movies? I quickly check my pockets, but to no avail. Cursing my depressed wandering stupidity, I look up at Lucien's curious yet intimidating eyes, and ask, "Do you have a phone?"