I'm so sick of people being fake, trying to pretend that everything is alright. It only puts forth the impression that money means everything… that being rich means you're happy.
My mother loved to hide things. When I was little, she hid the candy in her office desk and said, "Don't come in here, Eric. This is where mommy works." As I got older, she hid her credit cards in a drawer with her underwear and said, "Go ask your father for some money, okay, honey?" Before she died, we found another woman's body in the bed with dad and she said, "Go outside and play, dear. Mommy and daddy have to clean a little bit."
I only wanted to know if he wanted to see a movie with us. If I hadn't asked, maybe she could have kept on hiding the foreign lingerie between the mattresses and maybe the rain wouldn't scare me so much anymore.
Thunder claps and I am alone. Shivering, I huddle underneath a tree to wait out the storm. I know this is stupid. The best place for me to be now would be on the beach, but I can't find my way back and I feel that I've done enough aimless wandering for now.
"We're not perfect!" I want to shout at the sky, but my muscles won't lift my head and my voice is broken. It comes out as a mumble instead, which is enough because it shows me that I am still alive.
When I got home from this trip, I had planned to write down all the "if only"s in my head. It's something I saw on TV once. Apparently, it helps a person find out what they want most in the world. I already know what I want, but I figured that after the "adventure of a lifetime" there wouldn't be much else to do.
I remember this because the "if only"s are back. If only I had never been born, maybe dad would've kept thinking mom was a "sexy fox" and she wouldn't have gone swimming during an electrical storm. That's my favorite one, but there are new ones popping into my head as I sit here in the pouring rain.
If only I hadn't watched Jackson's video. If only Lex hadn't gone and taken all the videos… I wasn't going to tell anyone until they decided to have that stupid trial. If only they decided not to hold the stupid trial. If only I could have kept my mouth shut.
But it was Jackson's fault. He was hiding something and it reminded me of my mother. Now, it's out in the open, just like it should be. He's not swimming during a storm, but he's out here alone now—just like me… which brings my attention to the storm again. The wind has picked up now and the rain bites into my uncovered skin. I wonder if anyone is looking for me.
Probably not. At least… not unless Melissa, I Cares 4 U, Wu decides that I'm not such a bad guy afterall.
Jackson has this warped image of the rest of us. We're "rich kids." You know, the kind that roll around in the cars that mommy and daddy bought them, using credit cards at fancy, designer malls. And if he doesn't see us like that, he at least resents this "perfect" life we've managed to live. I think Melissa sees it like that too. Afterall, her house is smaller than mine and her clothes are lacking.
"He's a troubled guy," she said, defending Jackson. I didn't want him gone because he was associated with a murder. That meant nothing to me.
"Troubled?" I asked, all worked up. "We're all fucking troubled!"
By that time, the crew realized that our dear captain had departed for God knows where and I was suddenly the one to blame. Actually, my name has become nigh synonymous to "lazy fucktard" and "son of a bitch."
My mother and Jackson and all the others hide inside a black and white world. The rich have it all and the poor don't. Apparently, we're supposed to find it in our hearts to forgive Jackson for his ignorance and idiosyncrasy because he's poor and just can't help it. And he, the lucky bastard, gets to blame us for all that goes wrong.
"The rich kids wouldn't understand what it's like to never be good enough," and, "Jackson comes from an entirely different world than us. We gotta watch our backs, guys."
If only it was all that simple. I don't think that Jackson would have been admitted into the adventure program then. I don't think that I would have lost my temper… and I definitely don't think that I would be sitting in the middle of a monsoon.
But you see, all of that happened… and now here I am.
They pulled me out of school while my father was being tried for murder. The authorities think he pushed her into the pool. He was hugging me when she died, telling me a story so I wouldn't be afraid of the thunder. If our gardener hadn't seen my mother throw herself in, I would have lost my father too.
That's a good "if only." I don't think I would have liked to lose my father. I would have gone to live with my grandparents out in the country and that, I imagine, would be worse than being stuck here on an island with a group of people who like to hide things like my mother did.
I haven't told the others about my "if only"s. If I do, then our perfect, black-and-white world might dissolve. Jackson might realize that rich kids are capable of angst and the others might notice that Jackson's troubles aren't so far from their own.
I think the others are aware of that too. That's why they keep their secrets and that's why they piss me off. We're all stuck in this damned loop that causes us to water down our truths and make our lies believable.
"Where were you for so long, Eric?" Taylor asked me when I first came back to school.
"Hospital," I lied and no one thought to question. My mother simply went away on business and that's where she's been for the past four years.
"Hey," a voice calls to me over the harsh patter of the rain. I don't look up. I can't look up now.
"Hey," it tries again, louder now. My limbs are frozen, but I shift my position so that I am looking at its owner.
At first, I see I Cares 4 U. It is the logical thing to see—what I had been expecting. Her shoulders look broader than I remember, though… and since when was her voice that deep?
"Eric," it says firmly. I blink the rain out of my eyes and shake my head. Water splashes over the brim of my hat and onto my shoulders but I don't notice. "Why are you out here?"
Maybe it's Nathan. Rescuing me seems like something heroic he'd do. Then he can brag to Daley about his deeds of daring do and maybe even win her heart. I take his extended hand anyway and allow him to help me up.
Now that the audience is on the edge of their seats, a twist that not even I could predict. It isn't Dudley Doright or his partner in heroics, I Cares 4 U. It's the Switchblade himself, offering me a way out of this stormy Hell.
I hug him, because the only thing I've had to hug is a tree and the bad thing about trees is that trees don't hug back.
Jackson doesn't hug back either, but that's okay.
"How did you find me?" I ask, excitedly. "We've been looking for you—Nathan, Melissa, and me! And now here you are! This is perfect!"
"The beach is back that way," he says coldly. This is such typical Jackson behavior. I won't stand for it.
"I'm not going alone," I say, grabbing his wrist with my clammy hands. I admit, it's a bit girlish of me to be so clingy, but I am scared. "I'll just get lost again and you know it."
The others are all excited to see me as I crash into their tent, getting everything wet. Why does it always take a crisis to get people to care?
"Brought Jackson back," I murmur, all too eager to climb into my warm sleeping bag. Of course, Mr. Angstypants didn't intend to stay and I have to pursue him like the rest of the crew.
Everyone puts in their two cents—the Encyclopedia, Blondie, I Cares 4 U, Dudley Doright… Daley. Even I say a couple of things… I mean, the guy brought me back home.
"You can't go!" they say with pleading desperation. "You're one of us! We don't care about your secret! You're our leader! That's all that matters!"
Underneath all of that lies what we truly mean to tell him—to tell each other.
"It's alright," we're trying to say. "We understand. All of us have dark secrets hidden somewhere."