Have you ever felt like life has let you down? Were you lost in a world of
darkness, only to find upon waking that nothing was the same? Have you ever
been torn away from reality, thrust into a world of nightmares that never
ended? Were you promised the world, only to see it snatched away in some
kind of twisted April Fool's joke?
Did your nightmares ever come true?
Yeah, I know what you're thinking: How could someone wake up to a horror flick? I agree, it sounds impossible. But you know how you sometimes have dreams that seem so realistic that you can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality? That's the kind of dream I'm talking about. When normal people wake up from those kinds of dreams, they soon realize that they weren't true. But for me, it's different. For me, the dream goes on whether I'm awake or not.
Imagine living eternally in your nightmares.
It all started with a girl. It seems that a lot of bad endings start out with girls. They somehow manage to turn your life into a living hell, whether they mean to or not. In my case, the girl was blameless from start to finish. She loved me throughout my whole dilemma, and was faithful to me until necessity forcer her to be otherwise.
Her name was Mary. The name itself brings the image of purity to the mind, and Mary indeed fitted her name. The combination of her loose cotton dress, dark braided hair, and deep, shy eyes hidden behind glass frames gave her the impression of a girl with nascent womanhood, just begging to be helped out. She was kind to all but those who defiled the tidy books on the shelves in her library, and their only punishment was to see a frowning face and a scolding finger. Very few got her into that state, for no one wanted to see a scowl on that beautiful face.
It was Mary's kindness that kept me in the village, though I don't know where I would've gone if I left; I certainly couldn't go back home, since my parents loathed my existence. The only reason they didn't put me up for adoption was that my mother desperately wanted a child, but my father, a famous castrati, didn't quite have the balls for it. The only way my mother could have a child was by another man. I was raised by a man who despised me in every possible way. Once I was grown, my parents wanted nothing to do with me. I moved to Mineral Town when my grandfather Saibara offered to take me in as an apprentice at his blacksmith's shop there, hoping for a better life than the one back home.
Life wasn't much better for me in Mineral Town. My grandfather criticized me constantly, never appreciating the work I did in his shop. There was always some flaw in whatever I did, and no matter how small it was, he berated me mercilessly for it. He didn't only use harsh words; he used a leather belt to emphasize his points about blacksmithing. My back was scarred with raw lines of disapproval.
Dealing with my grandfather would have been easier if I had anyone to talk to. I never have been a very social person, and moving didn't change me in that respect. The only places I'd ever gone to were the grocery store to run some errands, or to the mountaintop on holidays, where I would meditate by myself. Saibara never let me go to the festivals, which is probably one of the reasons why I never made any friends. My life consisted of hard work, turning myself into a hermit, and having what little ego I had to begin with torn to shreds by my sadistic grandfather.
One day, I decided that I was absolutely sick of Saibara and anything having to do with him. I needed to get out, to free myself from my own personal hell. But where could I go? I had no friends in the village, and no money to leave. I left the shop before the sun rose and walked aimlessly about the village, hoping to find somewhere to go.
At about ten o'clock, I came upon a library. The building was large and old, covered in creeping strand of ivy that covered the whole building. Now, I wasn't a big fan of libraries, but for some reason, this one seemed...welcoming. A little sign near the door read, "Library Hours: 10 AM - 5 PM," with a picture of a book next to it for decoration. I walked up to the door and stared at it for a moment, taking a deep breath; I wasn't one to relish meeting new people. My sense of loneliness got the better of me, though, and I turned the handle and walked inside.
The inside of the library was gorgeous. Wooden bookshelves lined the walls, with every book on them in perfect order. A couple of shiny tables sat near the back of the room, with matching chairs pushed under them. In the center of the room was a great staircase, which curved up to a second floor full of more neat bookshelves. The only thing the library was missing was another person.
"Hello?" I called.
I heard the loud sound of a head connecting with a piece of wood to my right, and turned to see what caused it. A well-organized librarian's desk sat there, complete with a coffee cup full of writing utensils, a reading lamp, and a small card catalogue. I hadn't noticed it before, being enthralled with the rest of the building.
"Ouch!" said a soft, feminine voice. The librarian stood up, rubbing her head.
That was the first time I saw Mary. She'd just been reorganizing her bottom drawers, which were the only neglected part of her library, and was a complete mess. Her black hair was loose, having come out of her braid, and her glasses were at an odd angle on her face. Her dress, usually as clean and tidy as Mary herself, was covered in dust. Needless to say, she was still absolutely stunning. Her cheeks blushed crimson when she saw me, and she hastily brushed a layer of dust off of her clothing.
"W-welcome to the library," she said, trying to fix her hair. "Can I help you?"
I smiled, probably for the first time since I'd moved to Mineral Town. "I guess," I said. "Could you, um, recommend any books to me?"
Mary smiled back shyly. "That depends on what kind of book you're looking for. What's your favorite genre?"
I thought for a moment. "I guess the science fiction genre is pretty girl." I mentally slapped myself, hard. "P-pretty good, I mean, uh, yeah." Nice going, Slick.
Mary turned a shade of red I had formerly thought unique to tomatoes. She pointed silently to a shelf in the far corner of the room, and I walked over there promptly. Grabbing a random book, I sat at a table and stared blankly at one of the pages. Well, there goes a great opportunity, I thought. There's one more person who will never want to speak to me again.
Luckily, I was wrong.
Despite the fact that I had made a total ass of myself in front of Mary, I continued to visit her at the library regularly. Facing mortification was better that staying with Saibara all the time and having my self-esteem put through a meat grinder. Besides, Mary was a very forgiving girl. We kept our conversations down to a minimum at first, for obvious reasons. But, despite our initial shyness, Mary and I eventually warmed to each other. I felt myself growing extremely fond of her.
I made my first move that summer. The biggest festival in that season, the Fireworks Display, was coming up, and Mary remained dateless. It seemed to me that a large neon sign reading "Single" had been placed on Mary's head, and was getting her rather annoyed. I decided to help her out with this problem. The day before the festival, I took a deep breath and stepped into the library.
"Hey, Mary," I said.
She looked up from her neat desk and smiled at me. "Hello, Gray," she said. "You're here early. Have a book-related craving?"
I felt my nerve falling. "Uh, yeah, I g-guess. Do you have anything new?"
She grinned somewhat roguishly. "Only a couple of romance novels."
"I'll stick with the sci-fi," I said, blushing. I headed over to my favorite section, and I felt myself shaking with a mix of nervousness and anger at myself. I felt a song and its accompanying video pop into my head: 'Something happens and I'm head over heels...'
Shaking my head for clarity, I turned back around. Mary was writing something at her desk. "Hey," I said. She looked up. "Are you going to watch the fireworks tomorrow?"
"Only if someone asks me," she replied, smiling sweetly.
I felt my cheeks grow warmer. So, she knew. I chased the color away and smiled back at her. "Which someone do you want to ask you?"
Mind games are flirting for intellectuals.
She turned her head away, simultaneously blushing and trying to think up a reply. "I was hoping for one with enough confidence to ask right away instead of hiding in pointless conversation," she said.
Ouch, good one. I grinned. "So, I'll pick you up at five-thirty, then?" I asked.
She smiled. "Sure thing."
***
The night had finally come. I managed to get enough wine into Saibara that he'd be out for the whole night; he'd never let me out of the house on a festival night if he were sober. At about five-fifteen, I headed over to Mary's library.
We started to walk over to the beach in a companionable silence. It was a beautifully clear night, perfect for fireworks. The fireworks were the last things on my mind, however. The only thing I wanted to think about was that gorgeous girl beside me. I glanced at her. A loose wisp of hair was dancing in front of her face, and I reached over and brushed it back behind her ear. She smiled at me, and took my hand. We continued walking silently, both of us with overly pleased, idiotic grins on our face.
As we were about to turn the corner to the beach, Mary stopped walking. "Everyone goes to the beach for the Fireworks Display," she said. "Let's go somewhere different, somewhere less crowded." I nodded, and we headed toward the mountain instead.
It was a long hike up to the top of the mountain, but Mary went there every week with her family and was accustomed to the exercise. The show had already started when we got to the top. By the time Mary and I sat down to watch it, it was already halfway through the grand finale. I felt her head lean against my shoulder, and I put my arm around her.
Showing affection has a funny way of becoming addicting. It seems that once you do one thing, you just can't stop, especially if the other person is willingly contributing their actions as well. We'd never allowed our feelings to manifest before, and now that they were set free, they couldn't be controlled. Perhaps everyone goes a little crazy the first time. That might be the reason that teenagers are said to be driven solely by hormones. Whatever the reason, Mary's and my actions became more and more frenzied until - well, let's just say that neither of us was quite as innocent as we were before after that night.
Mary looked up at me, her hair loose, glasses crooked, and eyes shining. "Gray," she said, "those were some beautiful fireworks."
The library was never a busy place, and, after the night of the Fireworks Display, its empty quietness gave us less of a desire to read than to do other, less proper things. I couldn't be happier. Sure, Saibara beat the crap out of me for staying out all night for the festival, and still belittled me daily, but now I could always find solace in Mary's arms. Not too many men could claim to have what we had together. Well, they had a bond like ours in the physical sense, but not the emotional one. Nobody could understand me better than Mary, and vice-versa. Nothing could take that away from me.
Or so I thought.
One day, a new guy came to our village. His name was Jack, and he was going to take over one of the local farms. Apparently, the old farmer there had died, and handed his land over to his grandson, Jack. Ha, Jack the farmer. The name brings the image of a grizzled, nice old man with a straw hat, overalls and a red checkered shirt. I never would have thought of him as a love rival.
You'd think that a person who reads as much as I do would know not to judge a book by its cover- or, in this case, title.
The first time I met Jack personally was in the library. He was walking around the village in order to meet all of its inhabitants, and the building was on his list of places to stop. He was a young man with dark brown hair, not old or grizzled at all. I was right about the overalls, however; he had a pair of denim ones over a white shirt. As soon as he walked in the door, his jaw dropped and he stood motionless, staring rudely at Mary.
She seemed to be unaffected. "Hello," she said in her usual kindly voice. "Welcome to the library. May I help you?"
Jack's jaw snapped shut, and a devilish gleam crept into his eyes. He stepped over to the counter and grabbed Mary's hand, keeping eye contact the whole time. He kissed her hand flirtatiously, and smiled a ladies' man smile. "Hello, mon cheri," he said. "What is a beautiful flower like you doing in this wasteland? Surely you belong in one of those flashy Parisian magazines, not in a dusty old library."
The corner of her mouth twitched with slight irritability. "I make sure that my library is quite dust-free, thank you."
Jack stepped back in feigned shock, a hand placed over his chest. "So sorry, my dear! I never meant to imply that your lovely building was unclean. I meant, of course, that it seemed to be a place of hiding, not at all a suitable place for a gorgeous woman like you."
If it were possible, I would have turned green with envy by this point. I stepped out from the back of the room and stood by Mary's side, clutching her arm protectively.
"I'm Gray," I said gruffly. "This is my girlfriend, Mary. And you are?"
Jack shot me a look of pure hatred, and then turned back to Mary with a charming smile on his face. "How rude of me! I'm Jack, the new farmer in town. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mary."
They shook hands. "Well, I must be off now," said Jack. "There are so many new people to meet in this village, and I've only just begun making new acquaintances. I'll see you later, Mary, dear." He walked out, swaggering arrogantly.
Mary looked up at me. "Why'd you scare him off?" she asked. "You seemed jealous, or something."
I felt my eyes widen. "You expect me not to be? He was hitting on you, right in front of my face!"
"He didn't know we were together," she replied. "Besides, if he had a crush on me, he'd at least come back to the library some more. We need more people to start reading, you know that."
I sighed. "I know. I still don't like the idea of that guy hanging around you, Mary. What if he tries something?"
Mary just laughed. "You think a guy that goes by 'Farmer Jack' could possibly harm me? That boy's harmless. I think you're getting paranoid, Gray."
If only she were right.
Seasons passed us by, as seasons have the tendency to do. It's funny how time flies when you're having a constant death match with your love rival. Jack came to the library every day it was open and vainly attempted to win Mary's love from me. Now, I wouldn't normally be so worried, but I felt paranoid for a reason. That Jack guy seemed like a bad egg to me, and I didn't want Mary to be hurt.
Unfortunately, Mary wasn't nearly as cautious as I. She was starting to take a liking to Jack, though she assured me that it was strictly a friendship, and it could never be anything more. I hoped she was right. Jack seemed like the sadistic type to me. The thought of Mary chained to the wall with fuzzy handcuffs was...slightly arousing? No, no, it was absolutely appalling! I couldn't stand the thought of that...at least, not if Jack was the one with the keys to those handcuffs.
One Saturday afternoon, Jack, Mary, and I were sitting in the library, as usual. Mary was organizing her little card catalogue, while Jack and I glared daggers at one another.
Mary made a discouraged little noise, and we turned to look at her. She had spilled a bottle of ink all over herself. "Damn it," she swore. "I'm going to take a shower and change. Can I trust you two alone for a half hour or so?"
Jack smiled. "Of course, my darling Mary. I can keep this scoundrel here at bay. Go, bathe. Be merry!"
Mary raised an eyebrow, and then walked over to her room, which was connected to the upper floor of the library, shaking her head. We sat motionless for a while. At the sound of the water turning on, Jack rose, smiling evilly at me.
"I'm going to marry her, you know," he said. "You can't do anything to stop me."
I grinned, rising from my chair. "Oh, you think that, do you? Try me, you little prick."
Jack rolled up his sleeves. "Little? I think not. Mary will be so much happier once she sees me devoid of my overalls." He smirked. "Then again, it wouldn't take much to upstage your pathetic performance, now would it?"
I felt my blood heat with anger, and threw myself at Jack. I felt my fist connect soundly with his jaw, and watched as a little trickle of blood snaked its way down his cheek. He held his face for a moment, shocked, and then fought back with a knee to my groin. I doubled over in pain, and he slammed his elbow down at the base of my neck.
I fell, hitting the ground with a thud. Jack reached over to the bookshelf, grabbing a bookend. A couple of books tumbled over the edge, and the only thought that crossed my mind through my anguish was how upset Mary would be with all this mess. Jack smirked down at me, evilly.
"Heh, what a wimp. Think you'll stop me now?"
He raised the bookend up over his head, and smashed it into my temple. Darkness took over me instantly. My last feelings were of the bookend falling into my arms, and Jack's voice yelling through the house in false panic.
"Mary, come down here, quick! Gray whacked me in the jaw with a bookend, and I had to knock him out! I think he's out..."
***
Darkness, flittering before my eyes like so many crows on a moonless night. Mary's face danced among them from time to time, wearing a worried expression, mouthing the words, "Only you, Gray. I'll wait for you." Cruel laughter, Jack's laughter, would sometimes weave itself into the intricate web of my thoughts, creating a noisier, more confusing sequence than before. Bright, colorful lights sometimes entered the mix, but mainly it was a swirling vortex of images. A window, the curtains pushed aside, showed rapidly changing tree colors, the leaves dying, falling off, growing again, dying again. Mary stood next to the window, changing as constantly as the trees. The same worried expression was on her face, seemingly ground into her features permanently. Her body changed, though, expanding and contracting again. After her body went back to normal, she held a little bundle in her arms. She said things, too. Through the confusing, dreamlike state, I could always hear Mary talking to me.
"Oh, Gray, please wake up!"
***
Light and lucidity returned to the world, and I opened my eyes. I was in the clinic, neatly tucked into the spotless white sheets. I looked to my left, and saw a window. A tree stood outside the window, bearing young green leaves. So it was spring. What happened? Was it spring before I fell asleep? That was a long nap.
I heard footsteps to my right, and turned. The nurse was walking into the room with a little clipboard, apparently checking on me. She looked up and caught my eyes, and dropped her clipboard, mouthing, "Mary." She said the word aloud, and then turned around and ran out of the clinic, screaming, "Mary! Mary, Mary, he's awake!"
I arched my eyebrow. Why was it so shocking that I was awake? How long had I been sleeping? I lay back and stared at the ceiling, trying to sort out my troubled thoughts.
The footsteps returned, running at full speed. "See, look, he's awake!" said the nurse's voice, and Mary walked into the little room. She stopped dead when she saw me, and then her face brightened, and she ran to me.
"Gray!"
I caught her in my arms. "Hey, Mary," I said. I really didn't understand why she was so happy. I was just taking a nap, right?
"Oh, Gray, I thought you would never wake up! My sweet, darling Gray!" I felt something moist and warm touch my neck, and realized that Mary was crying.
"What's wrong?" I asked, confused. "I was just catching some Z's. What happened?"
Another person entered the room, and I looked up. Jack stood there, smirking, with a small child clutching his hand. "Look, Gray," he said to the child, "you see that there, lying in the bed? That's a genuine loser!"
I looked in the eyes of the child, and saw my own. Everything hit me right then. Jack, the bookend, my coma, and my dreams...they were all true. I looked up at Mary, a feeling of abandonment washing over me.
She interpreted my look, and her face dropped. "I'm sorry, Gray! I wanted to wait for you, but I couldn't..." She trailed off, and I looked at Jack. He had a sick, twisted grin on his face, and what I had thought all along was confirmed: Jack had managed to hurt Mary, and on a level I hadn't even thought of.
"Why did you name him after me?" I asked.
Jack snorted. "It was Mary's idea. She was already pregnant with the little bastard when we got married, and she insisted that he be named after his 'real' father. But hell, what do I care? He may technically be your kid, but he calls ME 'Daddy.'" Jack looked down at the child - my child - and smiled, saying, "Don't you, you little bastard?"
I gripped Mary's hand in mine, sensing her pain and trying to banish my own by comforting her. Many men would blame a woman for all of their misfortunes, but I realized that it wasn't Mary's fault at all. Jack, that sadistic son of a bitch, had forced her into an unwanted marriage. I had imagined foul play with fuzzy handcuffs, but this time, the chains were real. Mary had been reduced to a piece of property, a slave, and she had been taken from her place of freedom and happiness to a place of hatred and misery. She was next to me, physically, but we were thousands of miles apart in the mental sense.
Mary was gone, stolen from my heart forever.
Did your nightmares ever come true?
Yeah, I know what you're thinking: How could someone wake up to a horror flick? I agree, it sounds impossible. But you know how you sometimes have dreams that seem so realistic that you can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality? That's the kind of dream I'm talking about. When normal people wake up from those kinds of dreams, they soon realize that they weren't true. But for me, it's different. For me, the dream goes on whether I'm awake or not.
Imagine living eternally in your nightmares.
It all started with a girl. It seems that a lot of bad endings start out with girls. They somehow manage to turn your life into a living hell, whether they mean to or not. In my case, the girl was blameless from start to finish. She loved me throughout my whole dilemma, and was faithful to me until necessity forcer her to be otherwise.
Her name was Mary. The name itself brings the image of purity to the mind, and Mary indeed fitted her name. The combination of her loose cotton dress, dark braided hair, and deep, shy eyes hidden behind glass frames gave her the impression of a girl with nascent womanhood, just begging to be helped out. She was kind to all but those who defiled the tidy books on the shelves in her library, and their only punishment was to see a frowning face and a scolding finger. Very few got her into that state, for no one wanted to see a scowl on that beautiful face.
It was Mary's kindness that kept me in the village, though I don't know where I would've gone if I left; I certainly couldn't go back home, since my parents loathed my existence. The only reason they didn't put me up for adoption was that my mother desperately wanted a child, but my father, a famous castrati, didn't quite have the balls for it. The only way my mother could have a child was by another man. I was raised by a man who despised me in every possible way. Once I was grown, my parents wanted nothing to do with me. I moved to Mineral Town when my grandfather Saibara offered to take me in as an apprentice at his blacksmith's shop there, hoping for a better life than the one back home.
Life wasn't much better for me in Mineral Town. My grandfather criticized me constantly, never appreciating the work I did in his shop. There was always some flaw in whatever I did, and no matter how small it was, he berated me mercilessly for it. He didn't only use harsh words; he used a leather belt to emphasize his points about blacksmithing. My back was scarred with raw lines of disapproval.
Dealing with my grandfather would have been easier if I had anyone to talk to. I never have been a very social person, and moving didn't change me in that respect. The only places I'd ever gone to were the grocery store to run some errands, or to the mountaintop on holidays, where I would meditate by myself. Saibara never let me go to the festivals, which is probably one of the reasons why I never made any friends. My life consisted of hard work, turning myself into a hermit, and having what little ego I had to begin with torn to shreds by my sadistic grandfather.
One day, I decided that I was absolutely sick of Saibara and anything having to do with him. I needed to get out, to free myself from my own personal hell. But where could I go? I had no friends in the village, and no money to leave. I left the shop before the sun rose and walked aimlessly about the village, hoping to find somewhere to go.
At about ten o'clock, I came upon a library. The building was large and old, covered in creeping strand of ivy that covered the whole building. Now, I wasn't a big fan of libraries, but for some reason, this one seemed...welcoming. A little sign near the door read, "Library Hours: 10 AM - 5 PM," with a picture of a book next to it for decoration. I walked up to the door and stared at it for a moment, taking a deep breath; I wasn't one to relish meeting new people. My sense of loneliness got the better of me, though, and I turned the handle and walked inside.
The inside of the library was gorgeous. Wooden bookshelves lined the walls, with every book on them in perfect order. A couple of shiny tables sat near the back of the room, with matching chairs pushed under them. In the center of the room was a great staircase, which curved up to a second floor full of more neat bookshelves. The only thing the library was missing was another person.
"Hello?" I called.
I heard the loud sound of a head connecting with a piece of wood to my right, and turned to see what caused it. A well-organized librarian's desk sat there, complete with a coffee cup full of writing utensils, a reading lamp, and a small card catalogue. I hadn't noticed it before, being enthralled with the rest of the building.
"Ouch!" said a soft, feminine voice. The librarian stood up, rubbing her head.
That was the first time I saw Mary. She'd just been reorganizing her bottom drawers, which were the only neglected part of her library, and was a complete mess. Her black hair was loose, having come out of her braid, and her glasses were at an odd angle on her face. Her dress, usually as clean and tidy as Mary herself, was covered in dust. Needless to say, she was still absolutely stunning. Her cheeks blushed crimson when she saw me, and she hastily brushed a layer of dust off of her clothing.
"W-welcome to the library," she said, trying to fix her hair. "Can I help you?"
I smiled, probably for the first time since I'd moved to Mineral Town. "I guess," I said. "Could you, um, recommend any books to me?"
Mary smiled back shyly. "That depends on what kind of book you're looking for. What's your favorite genre?"
I thought for a moment. "I guess the science fiction genre is pretty girl." I mentally slapped myself, hard. "P-pretty good, I mean, uh, yeah." Nice going, Slick.
Mary turned a shade of red I had formerly thought unique to tomatoes. She pointed silently to a shelf in the far corner of the room, and I walked over there promptly. Grabbing a random book, I sat at a table and stared blankly at one of the pages. Well, there goes a great opportunity, I thought. There's one more person who will never want to speak to me again.
Luckily, I was wrong.
Despite the fact that I had made a total ass of myself in front of Mary, I continued to visit her at the library regularly. Facing mortification was better that staying with Saibara all the time and having my self-esteem put through a meat grinder. Besides, Mary was a very forgiving girl. We kept our conversations down to a minimum at first, for obvious reasons. But, despite our initial shyness, Mary and I eventually warmed to each other. I felt myself growing extremely fond of her.
I made my first move that summer. The biggest festival in that season, the Fireworks Display, was coming up, and Mary remained dateless. It seemed to me that a large neon sign reading "Single" had been placed on Mary's head, and was getting her rather annoyed. I decided to help her out with this problem. The day before the festival, I took a deep breath and stepped into the library.
"Hey, Mary," I said.
She looked up from her neat desk and smiled at me. "Hello, Gray," she said. "You're here early. Have a book-related craving?"
I felt my nerve falling. "Uh, yeah, I g-guess. Do you have anything new?"
She grinned somewhat roguishly. "Only a couple of romance novels."
"I'll stick with the sci-fi," I said, blushing. I headed over to my favorite section, and I felt myself shaking with a mix of nervousness and anger at myself. I felt a song and its accompanying video pop into my head: 'Something happens and I'm head over heels...'
Shaking my head for clarity, I turned back around. Mary was writing something at her desk. "Hey," I said. She looked up. "Are you going to watch the fireworks tomorrow?"
"Only if someone asks me," she replied, smiling sweetly.
I felt my cheeks grow warmer. So, she knew. I chased the color away and smiled back at her. "Which someone do you want to ask you?"
Mind games are flirting for intellectuals.
She turned her head away, simultaneously blushing and trying to think up a reply. "I was hoping for one with enough confidence to ask right away instead of hiding in pointless conversation," she said.
Ouch, good one. I grinned. "So, I'll pick you up at five-thirty, then?" I asked.
She smiled. "Sure thing."
***
The night had finally come. I managed to get enough wine into Saibara that he'd be out for the whole night; he'd never let me out of the house on a festival night if he were sober. At about five-fifteen, I headed over to Mary's library.
We started to walk over to the beach in a companionable silence. It was a beautifully clear night, perfect for fireworks. The fireworks were the last things on my mind, however. The only thing I wanted to think about was that gorgeous girl beside me. I glanced at her. A loose wisp of hair was dancing in front of her face, and I reached over and brushed it back behind her ear. She smiled at me, and took my hand. We continued walking silently, both of us with overly pleased, idiotic grins on our face.
As we were about to turn the corner to the beach, Mary stopped walking. "Everyone goes to the beach for the Fireworks Display," she said. "Let's go somewhere different, somewhere less crowded." I nodded, and we headed toward the mountain instead.
It was a long hike up to the top of the mountain, but Mary went there every week with her family and was accustomed to the exercise. The show had already started when we got to the top. By the time Mary and I sat down to watch it, it was already halfway through the grand finale. I felt her head lean against my shoulder, and I put my arm around her.
Showing affection has a funny way of becoming addicting. It seems that once you do one thing, you just can't stop, especially if the other person is willingly contributing their actions as well. We'd never allowed our feelings to manifest before, and now that they were set free, they couldn't be controlled. Perhaps everyone goes a little crazy the first time. That might be the reason that teenagers are said to be driven solely by hormones. Whatever the reason, Mary's and my actions became more and more frenzied until - well, let's just say that neither of us was quite as innocent as we were before after that night.
Mary looked up at me, her hair loose, glasses crooked, and eyes shining. "Gray," she said, "those were some beautiful fireworks."
The library was never a busy place, and, after the night of the Fireworks Display, its empty quietness gave us less of a desire to read than to do other, less proper things. I couldn't be happier. Sure, Saibara beat the crap out of me for staying out all night for the festival, and still belittled me daily, but now I could always find solace in Mary's arms. Not too many men could claim to have what we had together. Well, they had a bond like ours in the physical sense, but not the emotional one. Nobody could understand me better than Mary, and vice-versa. Nothing could take that away from me.
Or so I thought.
One day, a new guy came to our village. His name was Jack, and he was going to take over one of the local farms. Apparently, the old farmer there had died, and handed his land over to his grandson, Jack. Ha, Jack the farmer. The name brings the image of a grizzled, nice old man with a straw hat, overalls and a red checkered shirt. I never would have thought of him as a love rival.
You'd think that a person who reads as much as I do would know not to judge a book by its cover- or, in this case, title.
The first time I met Jack personally was in the library. He was walking around the village in order to meet all of its inhabitants, and the building was on his list of places to stop. He was a young man with dark brown hair, not old or grizzled at all. I was right about the overalls, however; he had a pair of denim ones over a white shirt. As soon as he walked in the door, his jaw dropped and he stood motionless, staring rudely at Mary.
She seemed to be unaffected. "Hello," she said in her usual kindly voice. "Welcome to the library. May I help you?"
Jack's jaw snapped shut, and a devilish gleam crept into his eyes. He stepped over to the counter and grabbed Mary's hand, keeping eye contact the whole time. He kissed her hand flirtatiously, and smiled a ladies' man smile. "Hello, mon cheri," he said. "What is a beautiful flower like you doing in this wasteland? Surely you belong in one of those flashy Parisian magazines, not in a dusty old library."
The corner of her mouth twitched with slight irritability. "I make sure that my library is quite dust-free, thank you."
Jack stepped back in feigned shock, a hand placed over his chest. "So sorry, my dear! I never meant to imply that your lovely building was unclean. I meant, of course, that it seemed to be a place of hiding, not at all a suitable place for a gorgeous woman like you."
If it were possible, I would have turned green with envy by this point. I stepped out from the back of the room and stood by Mary's side, clutching her arm protectively.
"I'm Gray," I said gruffly. "This is my girlfriend, Mary. And you are?"
Jack shot me a look of pure hatred, and then turned back to Mary with a charming smile on his face. "How rude of me! I'm Jack, the new farmer in town. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mary."
They shook hands. "Well, I must be off now," said Jack. "There are so many new people to meet in this village, and I've only just begun making new acquaintances. I'll see you later, Mary, dear." He walked out, swaggering arrogantly.
Mary looked up at me. "Why'd you scare him off?" she asked. "You seemed jealous, or something."
I felt my eyes widen. "You expect me not to be? He was hitting on you, right in front of my face!"
"He didn't know we were together," she replied. "Besides, if he had a crush on me, he'd at least come back to the library some more. We need more people to start reading, you know that."
I sighed. "I know. I still don't like the idea of that guy hanging around you, Mary. What if he tries something?"
Mary just laughed. "You think a guy that goes by 'Farmer Jack' could possibly harm me? That boy's harmless. I think you're getting paranoid, Gray."
If only she were right.
Seasons passed us by, as seasons have the tendency to do. It's funny how time flies when you're having a constant death match with your love rival. Jack came to the library every day it was open and vainly attempted to win Mary's love from me. Now, I wouldn't normally be so worried, but I felt paranoid for a reason. That Jack guy seemed like a bad egg to me, and I didn't want Mary to be hurt.
Unfortunately, Mary wasn't nearly as cautious as I. She was starting to take a liking to Jack, though she assured me that it was strictly a friendship, and it could never be anything more. I hoped she was right. Jack seemed like the sadistic type to me. The thought of Mary chained to the wall with fuzzy handcuffs was...slightly arousing? No, no, it was absolutely appalling! I couldn't stand the thought of that...at least, not if Jack was the one with the keys to those handcuffs.
One Saturday afternoon, Jack, Mary, and I were sitting in the library, as usual. Mary was organizing her little card catalogue, while Jack and I glared daggers at one another.
Mary made a discouraged little noise, and we turned to look at her. She had spilled a bottle of ink all over herself. "Damn it," she swore. "I'm going to take a shower and change. Can I trust you two alone for a half hour or so?"
Jack smiled. "Of course, my darling Mary. I can keep this scoundrel here at bay. Go, bathe. Be merry!"
Mary raised an eyebrow, and then walked over to her room, which was connected to the upper floor of the library, shaking her head. We sat motionless for a while. At the sound of the water turning on, Jack rose, smiling evilly at me.
"I'm going to marry her, you know," he said. "You can't do anything to stop me."
I grinned, rising from my chair. "Oh, you think that, do you? Try me, you little prick."
Jack rolled up his sleeves. "Little? I think not. Mary will be so much happier once she sees me devoid of my overalls." He smirked. "Then again, it wouldn't take much to upstage your pathetic performance, now would it?"
I felt my blood heat with anger, and threw myself at Jack. I felt my fist connect soundly with his jaw, and watched as a little trickle of blood snaked its way down his cheek. He held his face for a moment, shocked, and then fought back with a knee to my groin. I doubled over in pain, and he slammed his elbow down at the base of my neck.
I fell, hitting the ground with a thud. Jack reached over to the bookshelf, grabbing a bookend. A couple of books tumbled over the edge, and the only thought that crossed my mind through my anguish was how upset Mary would be with all this mess. Jack smirked down at me, evilly.
"Heh, what a wimp. Think you'll stop me now?"
He raised the bookend up over his head, and smashed it into my temple. Darkness took over me instantly. My last feelings were of the bookend falling into my arms, and Jack's voice yelling through the house in false panic.
"Mary, come down here, quick! Gray whacked me in the jaw with a bookend, and I had to knock him out! I think he's out..."
***
Darkness, flittering before my eyes like so many crows on a moonless night. Mary's face danced among them from time to time, wearing a worried expression, mouthing the words, "Only you, Gray. I'll wait for you." Cruel laughter, Jack's laughter, would sometimes weave itself into the intricate web of my thoughts, creating a noisier, more confusing sequence than before. Bright, colorful lights sometimes entered the mix, but mainly it was a swirling vortex of images. A window, the curtains pushed aside, showed rapidly changing tree colors, the leaves dying, falling off, growing again, dying again. Mary stood next to the window, changing as constantly as the trees. The same worried expression was on her face, seemingly ground into her features permanently. Her body changed, though, expanding and contracting again. After her body went back to normal, she held a little bundle in her arms. She said things, too. Through the confusing, dreamlike state, I could always hear Mary talking to me.
"Oh, Gray, please wake up!"
***
Light and lucidity returned to the world, and I opened my eyes. I was in the clinic, neatly tucked into the spotless white sheets. I looked to my left, and saw a window. A tree stood outside the window, bearing young green leaves. So it was spring. What happened? Was it spring before I fell asleep? That was a long nap.
I heard footsteps to my right, and turned. The nurse was walking into the room with a little clipboard, apparently checking on me. She looked up and caught my eyes, and dropped her clipboard, mouthing, "Mary." She said the word aloud, and then turned around and ran out of the clinic, screaming, "Mary! Mary, Mary, he's awake!"
I arched my eyebrow. Why was it so shocking that I was awake? How long had I been sleeping? I lay back and stared at the ceiling, trying to sort out my troubled thoughts.
The footsteps returned, running at full speed. "See, look, he's awake!" said the nurse's voice, and Mary walked into the little room. She stopped dead when she saw me, and then her face brightened, and she ran to me.
"Gray!"
I caught her in my arms. "Hey, Mary," I said. I really didn't understand why she was so happy. I was just taking a nap, right?
"Oh, Gray, I thought you would never wake up! My sweet, darling Gray!" I felt something moist and warm touch my neck, and realized that Mary was crying.
"What's wrong?" I asked, confused. "I was just catching some Z's. What happened?"
Another person entered the room, and I looked up. Jack stood there, smirking, with a small child clutching his hand. "Look, Gray," he said to the child, "you see that there, lying in the bed? That's a genuine loser!"
I looked in the eyes of the child, and saw my own. Everything hit me right then. Jack, the bookend, my coma, and my dreams...they were all true. I looked up at Mary, a feeling of abandonment washing over me.
She interpreted my look, and her face dropped. "I'm sorry, Gray! I wanted to wait for you, but I couldn't..." She trailed off, and I looked at Jack. He had a sick, twisted grin on his face, and what I had thought all along was confirmed: Jack had managed to hurt Mary, and on a level I hadn't even thought of.
"Why did you name him after me?" I asked.
Jack snorted. "It was Mary's idea. She was already pregnant with the little bastard when we got married, and she insisted that he be named after his 'real' father. But hell, what do I care? He may technically be your kid, but he calls ME 'Daddy.'" Jack looked down at the child - my child - and smiled, saying, "Don't you, you little bastard?"
I gripped Mary's hand in mine, sensing her pain and trying to banish my own by comforting her. Many men would blame a woman for all of their misfortunes, but I realized that it wasn't Mary's fault at all. Jack, that sadistic son of a bitch, had forced her into an unwanted marriage. I had imagined foul play with fuzzy handcuffs, but this time, the chains were real. Mary had been reduced to a piece of property, a slave, and she had been taken from her place of freedom and happiness to a place of hatred and misery. She was next to me, physically, but we were thousands of miles apart in the mental sense.
Mary was gone, stolen from my heart forever.