"Satan?" I sat up.
"Yes, yes, very good. I always did say we got the bright ones down here."
"Cut the stupid sarcasm. I guess I'm down here for good now, aren't I?"
"Well, I guess you could go up to heaven if you really want…"
"Hell no. Way too many flying bunnies up there. And I don't think they like me."
"Fine with me."
"Is Johnny OK?"
"No. I thought you KNEW him."
"You know what I mean."
"Well, he's alive, and he's still trying to get you to come back. It's quite sad."
"I'm not allowed to go back, am I?"
"No. That's not allowed. That is absolutely against the rules. Sorry, there is just no way."
"Well, I guess I'll go get a brainfreezy then…" I started to walk off.
"Wait one second…"
I sat up. For the second time in a month, I was alive. Again. Wow. I am SO lucky.
And I ruined another shirt.
I swear, I ought to stop buying shirts I like.
It looked like I was still in my backyard, a little beyond the treeline. Johnny sat a few feet away, his back to me, crying softly. I stood up shakily, and walked up behind him. He didn't hear.
Now, to say something and hug him… OR…grab him and scream really loud, scaring the crap out of him.
Hmmmm….
I hate these moral dilemmas.
Two seconds later
"WWWRRRRRRAAAAUUUUUGGGHHHHH!!"
"Holy SHIT! I thought you were DEAD! That was an awful trick."
"Oh, I was. But I'm better now, I guess."
"Ummm… Okay…"
I gave him a big hug. It had been a long night.
"So what happened? I don't really remember much after falling into your basement."
"Well…(If you don't get what happened, read this, if you DO, skip to the next paragraph.) Brett knocked you down into the basement. You started going into spastics. I tried to hold you down, cuz I read somewhere that you should do that. But then you got this really evil smile on your face, and your eyes glowed red. Damon, apparently, was still here in the house, and he possessed you … somehow… He was gonna kill me so I couldn't bring any more blood. He wanted the monster to escape for some reason. I couldn't do anything to him, because it wasn't him, it was YOU. If I killed him, YOU would die, and he would take your body. So I stabbed at the floor, and it disintegrated. Lots of lights and stuff. Then Damon got really mad, because the monster couldn't escape from a prison that doesn't exist. He was gonna kill you and take your body. So I did the only thing I could to stop him. I killed him the only way possible. By destroying myself. He was a figment of my imagination. A figment cannot exist without the mind that created it. So I died."
"But you came back."
"Yup."
"Even though you weren't a waste lock?"
"I threatened to get a brainfreezy."
"Ah."
"But the only thing I don't get is that Damon was always telling me to go kill something. Paint the wall. Why would he say that if he wanted the monster to escape?"
"He wanted you to think you had to. Human mind as a rule is opposed to being FORCED to do anything. Reverse psychology, of a sort."
(AAAA! Brain trickery! Can't process! Headmeats….melting…. BOOOOMMMM)
"That makes sense… I guess…"
"I wanna know what kind of twisted upbringing you had that would produce a mind capable of creating such a monster..."
"I don't actually remember that much."
"I can understand that."
"Wanna go home?"
"Yeah. I'm never coming back to this place again."
"Fine. Let's just go."
We got back into my car. We left Brett's car there. They wouldn't find a body. He was still in the basement.
We drove home in silence, considering the things that had happened. I contemplated my life without a floor to feed. I can't remember much of my life pre-floor. Right after floor, Damon showed up, and after him Elijah popped up. Speaking of Elijah…
I reached into my pocket for the little heart. I pulled him out. The purple stone no longer held a voice. It was silent as the grave. A somehow red crack ran through the center.
'I'll miss you, Elijah.'
But he was still there, inside me, I guess. It's just having an internal voice is more fun when it seems to come from somewhere else. It makes me seem less insane.
Am I still insane? I don't really know. Let me think.
'Go light something on fire! Fire is good…"
Well, I guess that answers that!
YAY! I'm done. I might write a sequel. If I do, It'll be up in a few days.
Our friend Jenny and us had this really good idea. We're gonna refer to ourselves in the plural form for a whole week. Maybe longer. (Watch the people around us develop facial tics)
Hey, We figure if our teachers are SO INTENT on teaching us about pronouns, we're gonna learn them. And learn them we shall. We have a speech tomarro. About ourselves.
Worry, people. Worry.