The Oracle

Chapter 7

The hall rang with music and laughter, though the cold winds were rising outside. At first it was all wine and roast meat, and Cassandra was talking with her mother and having herself a fine time... until she noticed that the room was growing darker. The music did not seem so jolly then; she heard discords and strange silences, and notes that hung in the air bleeding. Suddenly the drink turned bitter in her mouth, and when she looked up from her cup she saw that she was dining with the dead. Her mother sat with her guts spilling out on the table from the great gash in her belly, and her father was headless beside her. Justin's corpse lined the bench below, grey-brown flesh sloughing off his bones as he raised his cup to toast, worms crawling in and out of the holes that were his eyes.

Cassandra woke with a scream, startling her dad so badly that he ran from his room. "What's wrong?" he asked in a panic. He looked around the room frantically, looking almost as flustered as Cassandra. Almost. Cassie broke out in a sweat, her breathing slowly calming down.

"Nothing." Cassie swallowed, trying to wake up. "Just a bad dream."

Her father lowered his eyes and stared at the floor for awhile. He walked towards Cassie and tilted her chin forwards, planting a kiss on her forehead. "I can call-"

"Dad, no." Cassie said, more harshly than she wanted. "Please don't worry. I'm sorry to have woken you."

"Wake me up anytime, okay?"

"Okay."

Mr Newton nodded and slowly crept back to his room. Cassandra brought her knees up to her chest, hugging herself. I'm sure the dream meant nothing. She tugged at her pajama shorts. It meant nothing. Nothing... She stood up from her bed and searched for her poetry book. She searched every corner of her bedside table but found nothing. She assumed that it was in some obscure place in her messy room, and tried to sleep peacefully.

*

Justin ran his fingers through his hair, pacing his room. He walked towards his table and stared down at Cassandra's poetry book.

The bell had rung and Justin was walking away from his homeroom when Mr Snyder called him back. "Cassandra left her book when she left so swiftly... for guitar lessons with you. " Mr Snyder eyed him suspiciously. "Ms Newton isn't in my roll call, but you are. Hand this to her and tell her to never leave her possessions in my classroom again."

So here it is. Cassie's poetry book left in the hands of Justin. It was too late to give it to her, so he decided to give it to her at school. It doesn't seem like a problem. For most people Cassandra's book would have been contemplated for a second, and then they would move on to the next thought. But Justin was curious to know what she wrote about. He didn't want to be rude and start reading her poetry. After all she never told him that she wrote poetry, so he shouldn't go prying. But after their last conversation, Justin wanted to know. Know why people thought she had a death wish. Know why she was so secretive. Know what she thought of him. Know if she felt the same way about him. Know why they can't by 'us'. To just know. This poetry book might string up some answers. Justin's fingers felt the cover of her notebook and he started turning the pages.

I sit alone at my

window sill

Trees crackle,

sunshine blares and

children laugh like death

their sharp happiness is a

knife to me

One jealous snake on a

window sill

They will be here, trees and sun

and children with canes

and pruney skin

when I am but a memory

a laugh in the trees

of time. I sit alone

and try to love them

I sit alone, a snake

I sit alone and try to

love them

I sit alone

and laugh.

Justin continued to read her many different poems. He admired them and wondered how she could be so good. It wasn't till the end did he finally make the connections.

Slaughterhouse-five; the protagonist can foresee his own death. Students taunting her about suicide, her little comments about seizing the day, her poems, the reason they can't be together.

She's going to commit suicide.