They're dancing. To our wedding song. And I want to scream. His
head drops down to her shoulder, his mouth brushes her collarbone, but his
eyes stay open, judging everyone's reactions. He looks at me, laughs, and
then closes his eyes, nuzzles her again.
"fuck," I mutter to myself. It sounds good, great even. But then they turn slightly, and I can see her. She's smiling, I think, even though I can't see her mouth. It shows in her face, in the way her blond hair curls around her forehead.
I want to kill Maria, forcing me to come to this, saying "It will be good for you to see everyone again." I want to kill them for inviting me in the first place – what kind of sick, perverted man invites his old girlfriend, who he hasn't seen in years, to his wedding to the woman who stole him away?
I've sat in the corner and nursed my vodka, and realized how much I absolutely hate Roswell. Two days I've been back, and I'm falling apart all ready. As soon as I hit the city limits, the demons are back, making my skin crawl until I'm a stranger in my own body. Someone else is inside my head, and I can't control it, and I hate that feeling more than anything in the world. I can't breathe in Roswell, not like I can in Los Angeles – and I am quite aware how ironic it is to be able to breathe in that suffocating city and not in the middle of nowhere. I can't hide in Roswell.
I've gotten so good at hiding.... Maria knows, but not really. She thinks I have moods and she offers herbal remedies which sometimes actually make me feel better. But she's too busy with her singing career which – this year – is finally about to take off; this year, she swears, so she can quit her job at the dingy restaurant which is a million times worse than the Crashdown ever could be and she and Michael can move so I don't have to hear them grunting in the next room anymore.
Max looks at me again, and I can't decide if he's taunting me or coming on to me. In one brief moment I can feel it all slipping away from me, feel the aliens invading my head. The ceiling is crashing down on me and I keep waiting for someone to notice, someone to save me, but no one ever did, will, does. The room is closing in and it's like there's no air and I can't move all my muscles are so tight. My teeth clench and I taste the warm copper of my own blood.
"Fuck!" I yell, but it doesn't work this time, I don't feel any better, and the pressure keeps building. And then I'm seeing through a red mist; I reach up to wipe the wetness off of my face and my fingers come away dripping gray matter. For a second I think someone has shot me, that maybe the .357 I put to my head last night has finally worked, but then I look at the happy couple, vacant space where their heads used to be.
They keep dancing.
**
"Are you okay, Lizzie?" Maria asks and there is some concern in her voice but mostly it's just tinged with desperate hope and I can almost touch her thoughts, screaming "God, don't flake out on me now, Lizzie!" She hates me like this. Maria doesn't understand what it's like when life is all or nothing, good or bad. There's always been a mixture of the two in her life, in both her worst and best moments. So she hates when I remind her that it's not like that for everyone. I think she is jealous of me – she always has been but even more now – for being able to have complete happiness, even if it doesn't last for long. Most of all, though, she hates when I'm paranoid like this and come to her saying, "Guess what she did now; she's trying to ruin my life."
Maria knows exactly who I mean, because it's always the same person. It's lucky she understands me, because I literally cannot say her name – it catches in my throat and then I'm biting back bile and then I've completely lost my train of thought. See, even when she's not doing anything she's making my life miserable, the hussy.
"Lizzie?" Maria asks again and I nod, forcing a smile, and she moves away, back to Michael. I realize that Maria hasn't called me Lizzie for years – not since grade school when Kyle's jock friend Pauly started teasing me about being the reincarnation of Lizzie Borden, as if he even knew the meaning of reincarnation. I hated it, and I would cry for hours every time he called me that – more because I didn't want to be teased at all than because I really knew who Lizzie Borden was – and I never let anyone call me Lizzie ever again. I wonder what made Maria use that nickname for me. I've never gone after anyone with an ax – yet. But, I think I would welcome any relation to Lizzie Borden now.
She was never convicted, after all.
**
I sit down at a small table in the corner and drink a glass of punch. Suddenly, there are red stains covering her white dress but she doesn't notice that her innards are oozing out through the cuts in her abdomen and her face is turning blue, eyes bulging – they never do. I hear a grunting noise and look around me warily, wondering what she has sent to torment me now, even after her death.
A silver point thrusts through Max's throat and then slices sideways, and I have to laugh at my cleverness because I have somehow managed to make myself look completely innocent. There's no way I could use a spear with its point facing towards me, right? I mean, only aliens can do things like that. And I – sigh – am definitely not an alien; I think we've learned that by now. Maybe Michael did it.
Max's decapitated head falls out of my purse, betraying me again, and rolls off the table next to me, but then he turns into Kyle and I see that he and Isabel are groping each other in the corner. His rough, clumsy movements have hiked her skirt up, and I am granted a much more intimate view of Isabel than I ever wanted. Although, there is a sudden wetness between my legs as I wonder what her tongue tastes like. Tabasco, probably, but I think there will also be a sourness to her mouth, and the sweaty, musky taste of men. I wonder how I will tell Alex – I do have to tell him that his fiancé is fucking one of our best friends at her brother's wedding, I have an obligation not to lie to him. But then I see that Alex is there too, in the corner, his hand quite interestingly placed on Kyle's thigh. I wonder how long it will be before she joins them, and then there's that tightening again. Nasedo steps out from behind the curtain, ashes clinging to his skin, and glares at Isabel. "Destiny," he says in a low, menacing voice, raspy for not having been used for years. He raises his hand and Isabel, Alex, and Kyle explode into ashes, adding their own bodies to those already covering Nasedo. I close my eyes, mourning a bit for my friends.
Isabel smiles at me from her seat at the head table, between Kyle and Alex, before turning to toast her and Max.
**
Now I'm standing in a line – I'm not sure what for, and suddenly she is in front of me. "Hi Liz, so glad you could come. How are you doing?" she says in her sickly sweet voice, but all I hear is "die, bitch!" overlaid by a sinister hissing. She, of course, isn't human, isn't any better than that first snake. You wouldn't expect it from her tiny body, curly blonde hair, or sparkling blue eyes – you'd expect her to be the biggest ditz in the world, actually – but she is supreme evil incarnate.
No one believes me about this. Even Maria is friends with her. And when I try to make her see the truth, when I say "But, don't you remember what she did?" she only looks at me and sighs, all the way up to her eyes. "Liz, that was a long time ago," she replies. So not even my best friend will take my side.
"Liz?" she strangles out and I realize that my hands have somehow wrapped themselves around her neck until she can't breathe. Her face is turning blue, not like you'd expect, not like it always does, not gradually but all at once. Her arms are flailing, but then they stop, hanging lifelessly by her sides.
And then Max is there, all up in my face, and it's the first time I've seen him this close up in what seems like centuries. "What the hell are you doing, Liz?" he yells and I can't answer him. I let go of Tess's neck and she slumps into his arms and there's a little trickle of blood running out of her mouth and I want to know what it tastes like.
I lean towards her, my tongue reaching out to see if she tastes anything like Isabel, but then there's a sharp stinging and my head snaps back and Max is yelling again, "What the HELL do you think you're doing?" He lays her down on the floor, runs his hands through his hair, tears in his eyes, and for the first time I realize that he really does love her.
Some part of me cares, I'm sure. Or at least I have the vague feeling that it should. But then the moment's lost and I hear a soft noise, and it takes a while to realize that I'm humming. After a minute, there are words added to my song, but I can't understand what I'm saying, it's all beyond me. I look at my hand, and there's a gun in it, but I don't know where it came from. After a few minutes, I realize it's the one I held to my head last night and played Russian Roulette with, but it should still be on my nightstand, not in my hand at their wedding. And then before I know it I am caked with gore and picking skull tissue out of my cleavage, but I don't even remember pointing the gun at Max, let alone firing it.
This time, no one gets up.
fade
to
black
**
So you've sailed away Into a gray sky morning Now I'm here to stay Love can be so boring. Nothing's quite the same now I just say your name, now.
But it's not so bad, You're only the best I ever had. You don't want me back, You're just the best I ever had.
So you've stole my world Now I'm just a phony. Remembering the girl Leaves me down and lonely. Send it in a letter Make yourself feel better.
But it's not so bad, You're only the best I ever had. You don't need me back, You're just the best I ever had.
And it may take some time to Patch me up inside. But I can't take it so I Run away and hide. And I may find in time that You were always right, You're always right.
So you've sailed away Into a gray sky morning. Now I'm here to stay Love can be so boring.
What was it you wanted? Could it be I'm haunted?
But it's not so bad You're only the best I ever had. I don't want you back, You're just the best I ever had.
"fuck," I mutter to myself. It sounds good, great even. But then they turn slightly, and I can see her. She's smiling, I think, even though I can't see her mouth. It shows in her face, in the way her blond hair curls around her forehead.
I want to kill Maria, forcing me to come to this, saying "It will be good for you to see everyone again." I want to kill them for inviting me in the first place – what kind of sick, perverted man invites his old girlfriend, who he hasn't seen in years, to his wedding to the woman who stole him away?
I've sat in the corner and nursed my vodka, and realized how much I absolutely hate Roswell. Two days I've been back, and I'm falling apart all ready. As soon as I hit the city limits, the demons are back, making my skin crawl until I'm a stranger in my own body. Someone else is inside my head, and I can't control it, and I hate that feeling more than anything in the world. I can't breathe in Roswell, not like I can in Los Angeles – and I am quite aware how ironic it is to be able to breathe in that suffocating city and not in the middle of nowhere. I can't hide in Roswell.
I've gotten so good at hiding.... Maria knows, but not really. She thinks I have moods and she offers herbal remedies which sometimes actually make me feel better. But she's too busy with her singing career which – this year – is finally about to take off; this year, she swears, so she can quit her job at the dingy restaurant which is a million times worse than the Crashdown ever could be and she and Michael can move so I don't have to hear them grunting in the next room anymore.
Max looks at me again, and I can't decide if he's taunting me or coming on to me. In one brief moment I can feel it all slipping away from me, feel the aliens invading my head. The ceiling is crashing down on me and I keep waiting for someone to notice, someone to save me, but no one ever did, will, does. The room is closing in and it's like there's no air and I can't move all my muscles are so tight. My teeth clench and I taste the warm copper of my own blood.
"Fuck!" I yell, but it doesn't work this time, I don't feel any better, and the pressure keeps building. And then I'm seeing through a red mist; I reach up to wipe the wetness off of my face and my fingers come away dripping gray matter. For a second I think someone has shot me, that maybe the .357 I put to my head last night has finally worked, but then I look at the happy couple, vacant space where their heads used to be.
They keep dancing.
**
"Are you okay, Lizzie?" Maria asks and there is some concern in her voice but mostly it's just tinged with desperate hope and I can almost touch her thoughts, screaming "God, don't flake out on me now, Lizzie!" She hates me like this. Maria doesn't understand what it's like when life is all or nothing, good or bad. There's always been a mixture of the two in her life, in both her worst and best moments. So she hates when I remind her that it's not like that for everyone. I think she is jealous of me – she always has been but even more now – for being able to have complete happiness, even if it doesn't last for long. Most of all, though, she hates when I'm paranoid like this and come to her saying, "Guess what she did now; she's trying to ruin my life."
Maria knows exactly who I mean, because it's always the same person. It's lucky she understands me, because I literally cannot say her name – it catches in my throat and then I'm biting back bile and then I've completely lost my train of thought. See, even when she's not doing anything she's making my life miserable, the hussy.
"Lizzie?" Maria asks again and I nod, forcing a smile, and she moves away, back to Michael. I realize that Maria hasn't called me Lizzie for years – not since grade school when Kyle's jock friend Pauly started teasing me about being the reincarnation of Lizzie Borden, as if he even knew the meaning of reincarnation. I hated it, and I would cry for hours every time he called me that – more because I didn't want to be teased at all than because I really knew who Lizzie Borden was – and I never let anyone call me Lizzie ever again. I wonder what made Maria use that nickname for me. I've never gone after anyone with an ax – yet. But, I think I would welcome any relation to Lizzie Borden now.
She was never convicted, after all.
**
I sit down at a small table in the corner and drink a glass of punch. Suddenly, there are red stains covering her white dress but she doesn't notice that her innards are oozing out through the cuts in her abdomen and her face is turning blue, eyes bulging – they never do. I hear a grunting noise and look around me warily, wondering what she has sent to torment me now, even after her death.
A silver point thrusts through Max's throat and then slices sideways, and I have to laugh at my cleverness because I have somehow managed to make myself look completely innocent. There's no way I could use a spear with its point facing towards me, right? I mean, only aliens can do things like that. And I – sigh – am definitely not an alien; I think we've learned that by now. Maybe Michael did it.
Max's decapitated head falls out of my purse, betraying me again, and rolls off the table next to me, but then he turns into Kyle and I see that he and Isabel are groping each other in the corner. His rough, clumsy movements have hiked her skirt up, and I am granted a much more intimate view of Isabel than I ever wanted. Although, there is a sudden wetness between my legs as I wonder what her tongue tastes like. Tabasco, probably, but I think there will also be a sourness to her mouth, and the sweaty, musky taste of men. I wonder how I will tell Alex – I do have to tell him that his fiancé is fucking one of our best friends at her brother's wedding, I have an obligation not to lie to him. But then I see that Alex is there too, in the corner, his hand quite interestingly placed on Kyle's thigh. I wonder how long it will be before she joins them, and then there's that tightening again. Nasedo steps out from behind the curtain, ashes clinging to his skin, and glares at Isabel. "Destiny," he says in a low, menacing voice, raspy for not having been used for years. He raises his hand and Isabel, Alex, and Kyle explode into ashes, adding their own bodies to those already covering Nasedo. I close my eyes, mourning a bit for my friends.
Isabel smiles at me from her seat at the head table, between Kyle and Alex, before turning to toast her and Max.
**
Now I'm standing in a line – I'm not sure what for, and suddenly she is in front of me. "Hi Liz, so glad you could come. How are you doing?" she says in her sickly sweet voice, but all I hear is "die, bitch!" overlaid by a sinister hissing. She, of course, isn't human, isn't any better than that first snake. You wouldn't expect it from her tiny body, curly blonde hair, or sparkling blue eyes – you'd expect her to be the biggest ditz in the world, actually – but she is supreme evil incarnate.
No one believes me about this. Even Maria is friends with her. And when I try to make her see the truth, when I say "But, don't you remember what she did?" she only looks at me and sighs, all the way up to her eyes. "Liz, that was a long time ago," she replies. So not even my best friend will take my side.
"Liz?" she strangles out and I realize that my hands have somehow wrapped themselves around her neck until she can't breathe. Her face is turning blue, not like you'd expect, not like it always does, not gradually but all at once. Her arms are flailing, but then they stop, hanging lifelessly by her sides.
And then Max is there, all up in my face, and it's the first time I've seen him this close up in what seems like centuries. "What the hell are you doing, Liz?" he yells and I can't answer him. I let go of Tess's neck and she slumps into his arms and there's a little trickle of blood running out of her mouth and I want to know what it tastes like.
I lean towards her, my tongue reaching out to see if she tastes anything like Isabel, but then there's a sharp stinging and my head snaps back and Max is yelling again, "What the HELL do you think you're doing?" He lays her down on the floor, runs his hands through his hair, tears in his eyes, and for the first time I realize that he really does love her.
Some part of me cares, I'm sure. Or at least I have the vague feeling that it should. But then the moment's lost and I hear a soft noise, and it takes a while to realize that I'm humming. After a minute, there are words added to my song, but I can't understand what I'm saying, it's all beyond me. I look at my hand, and there's a gun in it, but I don't know where it came from. After a few minutes, I realize it's the one I held to my head last night and played Russian Roulette with, but it should still be on my nightstand, not in my hand at their wedding. And then before I know it I am caked with gore and picking skull tissue out of my cleavage, but I don't even remember pointing the gun at Max, let alone firing it.
This time, no one gets up.
fade
to
black
**
So you've sailed away Into a gray sky morning Now I'm here to stay Love can be so boring. Nothing's quite the same now I just say your name, now.
But it's not so bad, You're only the best I ever had. You don't want me back, You're just the best I ever had.
So you've stole my world Now I'm just a phony. Remembering the girl Leaves me down and lonely. Send it in a letter Make yourself feel better.
But it's not so bad, You're only the best I ever had. You don't need me back, You're just the best I ever had.
And it may take some time to Patch me up inside. But I can't take it so I Run away and hide. And I may find in time that You were always right, You're always right.
So you've sailed away Into a gray sky morning. Now I'm here to stay Love can be so boring.
What was it you wanted? Could it be I'm haunted?
But it's not so bad You're only the best I ever had. I don't want you back, You're just the best I ever had.