A/N: All I can say is review, review, and then review again because I really value feedback. Give me looooooong reviews. Tell me what your favorite part was, which part(s) you thought was/were the worst, and what I could do better. I really, really need to know what you think. How else am I supposed to grow as a writer?
And I'd really like to thank Kneecap (am I allowed to do that?) for Beta-ing.
Anyway. Sorry for taking up so much space with this inane blabbering. On with the fic.
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The parents were out for the night, and my little brother was at his friend's house. The good china was stored away, along with sharp utensils, and all the electrical sockets were successfully blocked. I took any and every precaution that I possibly could to make sure that nothing would go wrong.
When the doorbell rang, it was 7:30 exactly. He's abnormally punctual. It just adds to the 'creep' factor.
I took a deep breath and, with a knife and phone in my other hand, yanked the door open. There he was, ghastly as ever. Smiling. Why? I can't really say. "Okay, remember our agreement?" I asked briskly.
"No touching, no talking, no trouble," He alliterated.
"Clever, clever," My voice was already shaking. Suddenly I got really out of character… and actually started begging him. "Please, just don't do anything that we'll both regret later on," My mouth felt really dry. "There's no reason for this. After we're done the project, we can just go back to being out of each other's faces and… lives, and it'll be just a blip on- on our radars," I tried to swallow, but there was nothing to swallow.
He just kept on smiling. "Silly girl. This is no time for fun. Tsk tsk tsk," Then he looked down at the knife in my hand. "Oh!" He squealed, a giddy smile on his face. "So cute!"
Uh… what?
"Huh?" I raised a brow.
All I saw was a blur, literally, and with a 'WHOOSH', a pointy object was in his hand. A huge one. I don't wanna say it was a knife because it was more like a fucking sword. "But mine is bigger!" He sing-songed.
I stared blankly at the weapon in his hands. Where did it even come from? How did he manage to hide that thing? I mean, it was big. Big. Scary big.
"Uh…" I felt my stomach contents sway.
"I know. You're impressed. But we really should get started," He slid the blade back into his belt - it had some sort of… sword-holder-thing – and waltzed right into the house.
"Okay uh… follow me…" I led him into the living room. It was getting dark by now, but all the drapes were wide open and the lights were on. I wasn't planning on closing them.
"People can see inside," He noted straight away. "We can't see them, but they can see us. Like fish in an aquarium," He turned his head to look at me, sizing me up. "How very voyeuristic of you. But I am not at all surprised. Someone like you, you just love people peering into your life and 'ooh'-ing and 'ahh'-ing at your 'so-called' splendor. Just so that you can feel special. Because you really need to feel special, so that you can fill that void in your petty life. You know what I'm talking about."
I gawked at him uncomprehendingly, before sighing, "Are you always this weird, or are you putting on a show just for me?"
He didn't say anything. He just looked at me in this really messed up way. Like he was trying to read my thoughts or something.
"The windows are open, because if you try any freaky shit, someone will see it, and call the police." After another few silent, uncomfortable seconds, I looked at the books that he was clutching onto like a Fendi bag. "What's that?"
"Knowing that you have no knowledge of… anything, really, I brought along some things that might help you along," He sat down on the floor, cross-legged, and spread the books out in front of him. I hesitated before sitting down a few feet away. "Stop being such a prick and come closer," He snarled, all of a sudden hostile.
"Okay, okay! God," I pouted and shuffled a little nearer.
"God has nothing to do with it," He seemed really into this subject. "In fact, he probably doesn't exist either, so stop talking about him."
"What? I wasn't talking about- nevermind. What do you mean he doesn't exist either?" I scrunched my nose up.
"Nothing exists," He said it as if I should've known.
I actually laughed out loud. "Okay. Whatever. Clearly this is a joke to you," I ran a hand through my hair, something I do when I'm stressed.
"A joke?" He hissed, sending a chill right up my spine. "Why don't you SHUT THE FUCK UP? And listen." He went from coolly quiet to startlingly loud to quiet again. The four words that he, basically, screamed alarmed me so much that I went reeling backward, my mouth and eyes wide open.
Johnny calmly opened a book that had a boring brown cover on it and not much else. "Descartes would be a good place to start," He mused to himself. "'Cogito, ergo sum'. I think, therefore I am. Have you ever heard that before?" He looked up at me with these big, innocent eyes; with a curiosity I can only compare to a child.
"Um. No," I blinked several times; still trying to rid myself of the shock he gave me.
He smiled modestly. "It means that our thoughts verify our existence. That was Descartes' theory, that by the very process of thought, we subsist."
"I… I see," I nodded slowly. 'No sudden movements,' I thought to myself. 'Just be cool, act natural, insert cliché here, just don't show him fear. He's got to be like an animal, able to smell fear…'
He went prattling on about Descartes and his theory and, to be perfectly honest, I tuned out, because he was boring me. Finally, he looked up at me, expecting me to say something.
"I think that's ridiculous," I sighed. "I think, therefore I am? Shouldn't it be the other way around? I am, therefore I think? Because… like… isn't that statement implying that our thoughts made us?" I grabbed my head. "Ugh. I don't get it," As soon as those words came out of my mouth, I regretted them. I expected him to throw a fit, to go absolutely ballistic.
He glanced down for a moment at his book, then back at me. He was plotting something, I could tell. He had that look. That… plotting look. He was very, very quiet. Then…
"Do you have any burritos?"
I couldn't think of what to say. The gears in my mind stopped turning. "…No…" WRONG ANSWER.
"No burritos?" He asked softly. "No burritos?! ARGH. What kind of person are you if you don't even have any burritos in the house?! I mean, it's a staple, a staple!!" Like a tiger he leapt forward and grabbed my head. "Explain this!!"
Was he for real? I mean, was he really freaking out over some burritos? "We could just go out and get some!" I gasped desperately, breathless from panic. His grip on my head lessened. "There's a convenience store a few blocks down. I'll buy them!" I sounded frantic.
"Excellent!" He jumped up and walked out of the room. I, however, lay collapsed on the floor with relief.
"God," I breathed. "What a freak."
---
It was unusually frosty that night, so I had on a thick black sweater, hood thrown over my head, and big black boots. With Johnny beside me, I figured that we must have looked like two criminals on the prowl. It was kind of fun, actually.
"Aren't you cold?" I asked him halfway to the convenience store.
"No," He answered briskly. He didn't sound too interested in conversation. Too bad I'm always interested in conversation, no matter whom it's with. I just don't shut up.
"I think the answer to Alton's question is simple: we know we exist because of our five senses… you know, sight, smell, all that shit," I offered. I wasn't trying to talk to him because I think it's fun, by the way. I was trying (despondently) to move the project along, as, evidently, we were getting nowhere. The sooner we finish, the better.
He just sighed like an irritated mother. "It's more complicated then that," He kept his gaze firmly settled forward.
"Um… okay," I shrugged, and continued to look up at him. He kept staring straight ahead, as if there was something there and he was trying to figure out what it was. He didn't even seem to notice that I was looking at him.
I watched him. It was so surreal; he really was like a ghost (as cliché as that may sound) drifting in and out of the glow of the streetlights. I wondered to myself what his mother must look like. I wondered if he had killed her, if she had killed herself, if maybe that was what made Johnny such a psycho. I truly wanted to ask him, partially because I wanted to know and partially because I was curious of his reaction.
He'd probably kill me, so I decided against it.
"What are you staring at?" He asked, shattering the hush of nighttime. He kept looking intently frontward.
"Sheesh. Someone's moody," I snickered, just because it was such an understatement.
His eyes flicked to me and then forward again. "Shut up," he said calmly.
And so I did.
---
As soon as we had entered the store, Johnny grabbed me by the wrist and darted to the back of the store.
"What the hell is your issue?" I howled as we went flying past shelves of various fatty foods I would never dream of touching.
"I can't believe you've never had a burrito!" He responded, as if that would answer my question.
"What's a burrito anyways?" I asked while trying to avoid crashing into the displays. He suddenly decided to come to a screeching halt, causing me to ram right into him and fall over. The second time I was on the floor because of him.
"Jesus!" I yelled, not caring if the cashier was staring at me with obvious hilarity. I looked up at Johnny to find him sour-faced once again. "What?" I asked quietly.
"You're even more bizarre then I thought," he sounded quite frazzled.
"Yeah. I'm the bizarre one here," I grumbled. "Aren't you going to help me up?" I wasn't really expecting him to.
But he did! Just not in the way I would think a boy would help a girl up. Instead of extending a helping hand, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and wrenched me up, slowly, while I screamed like a banshee. I used my legs to scramble upwards so he wouldn't tear it all out. All the while he seemed to be enjoying himself, laughing wildly and tossing his head back in delight.
Even when I was up on my feet, he wouldn't let go. He just dragged me all the way to the very back of the store, and then pressed my face into the glass door of the freezer with one hand on the back of my neck. "See!" He pushed himself up to the door. "There!" He pointed to a box.
"What!" It was less of a question and more of an automatic response. I matched his tone and volume.
"There…" He suddenly got really quiet, really whisper-y. "The red one," He was wide-eyed, as if it was something awe-inspiring. Then he stood up straight, still pressing me into the glass, and said, "That's a box of burritos."
"I see," I said blankly. He released me, got his burritos, and I went to pay for them. Somehow, throughout the whole ordeal, and the scariness of it all, I was somewhat amused. At least he wasn't boring. The only thing worse then a crazy person is a boring one.
But that doesn't mean I like him. Like… when people go to sideshows, they laugh and point and are generally pleased, but they don't want to be friends with the freaks. See what I mean?
---
"Oh fuck no, I'm not eating that!" I stared at the burrito Johnny had just unfrozen in my microwave.
"Don't you get it? Don't you understand?!" He shoved the burrito in front of me and I nearly gagged. "Don't think of it as a burrito! Think of it as a new lease on life, a gateway to better things," He pressed it up against my mouth. "EAT!!"
"No!" I swiped the thing out of his hands. "This is just empty calories. Calories are the very bane of my existence," I explained.
"What existence?" He narrowed his eyes at me.
I pursed my lips. "Are you- are you serious? Do you think you're making sense right now? Cuz- cuz you're not…" I was so flustered that I didn't even know what I was saying.
"You're so sure of your 'existence' but who is to say that you exist?" He was beginning to sound a lot like a mad philosopher.
"Oh GOD you know what? Stop spewing bullshit and-" Out of the blue came an epiphany. "What if all this 'existence' stuff is just… just a bunch of filler? What if it really means nothing? What if…" I looked down at the burrito.
And then I took a bite. "What if we're just asking stupid questions?" I asked with a mouthful of mystery meat and other miscellaneous foods.
"Then we'll get stupid answers, naturally," He replied. "Elaborate," He added.
"Like…" A piece of the burrito flew out of my mouth, but I couldn't be bothered. I was getting somewhere, and the burrito was helping me. "What if we're just going 'ooh, ooh strange, mystifying universe, what is the meaning of life, blah blah' for nothing? What if we're just… like… chemical reactions, or something?"
He grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Congratulations. You've just discovered epiphenomenalism," He praised me with a firm slap on the head.
"Epiphen- epiphenomalism?" I attempted.
His smile faltered. "Eat your goddamn burrito," He grumbled.
I blinked, and then took another bite of the burrito. "Why am I eating this thing?" I asked myself out loud.
Johnny's smirk returned. "It's quite simple, really. I control you," He said.
"No you don't," I put the burrito down. "In fact, it's the other way around," I crossed my arms and leaned on the kitchen counter.
"Oh really?" It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. "Then please explain to me why all this time, you've been yapping about your beliefs and spewing your guts to me, while I stand by listening?"
"What are you talking about," It was supposed to be a question, but again, it came out wrong.
"I control you," He repeated simply. "Don't ask me how. But I do. I control everything. You, your parents, your insolent little friends. Everything. I can do things that you would never get away with. I can, you know, because I control it. Or…" here he got all dramatic again. "Maybe I'm being fooled as well… maybe something is controlling me, like I think I control you…"
"Shut the fuck up, Johnny," I spat. This little charade was becoming really annoying. "You're full of shit,"
An absolutely murderous look came over him. And it wasn't just his face; it was his body language too. He changed, somehow, and turned into this malevolent thing. His hands moved faster then I could see and before I could react they were clutching at my neck, suffocating. He lifted me off the ground slightly, so that my feet were only just touching the ground.
"Whoever gave you the right to talk to people like that, huh? WHO? Was is it your parents?!" He shook me and I tried to loosen his grip but it was all for nothing. He just tightened it.
"Gah-" I choked. "I can't-"
"Or perhaps you were just made that way!?" He went up in volume. "Just like all the rest of them, aaaaaallll the rest…" He gritted his teeth together and throttled me. I tried to cry out but all that I could manage was a pitiful twitter. "How many more?!"
Unexpectedly, he dropped me on the floor (for the third time). "Not. Worth. It." He looked down at me contemptuously. "I have more patience then that," He added, before turning and walking away.
"See you next week!" He chirped merrily, and then I heard the front door open and slam shut.
My first instinct was to call my friends. Not my parents, not the police… my friends. I scurried over to the phone and dialed Wendy's number. Johnny was about to pay dearly for what he did.
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