Friday, June 17 6:00 116 Tenth Av. North- Cathy's Room
Short Story made Long:
After I had thrown up, I ran to the park washroom. Bruce didn't notice since he was too busy throwing stones, and thankfully too because it wasn't a pretty sight. The park washroom isn't that far from where we'd been but on this particular day it felt like a lifelong journey. In the washroom I washed up, duh! But it wasn't one of those refreshing washes. It was painful and scarring because every few seconds I would hear Marcie scream and it wasn't one of those little girl screams- filled with laughter and joy- and it definitely wasn't a heavy metal typa scream- passionate and meaningful. Let me put it this way: If you had ever asked for a history lesson on the death of Jesus, this was the place to be. Soon, though, the screaming died down and I'm thinking, so did she. I decided, after washing up, that Id live in the washroom forever. I couldn't live with myself and I couldn't move on knowing that the girl out there getting stoned was the same one that I had buzzed off a week ago. It was just happening all too fast.
and that's when it hit me!
I fell onto the washroom floor and prayed. It wasn't the most glorious moment of my life, I have to admit. I looked like a mess and ewww, gross, i was laying down on the washroom floor.
But I could've cared less then. After the prayer I decided that I had to go and stop the stoning. I had to save that poor innocent soul. So I fled back to the "scene of the crime". Okay, I have to admit "fled" is a bit of an exaggeration considering that I had stopped every few seconds to think about what I was gonna do. When I got there...
I, I, I was too late. Everybody had left but Bruce and the poor dead girl.
"Yo, where were you?" Bruce asked me, but I didn't hear him. All I could think about was the poor 17 year old who had lost everything. She wasn't even gonna get to graduate. Her skin had been grated off like cheese. Her nose had ben stoned off her face- and oh boy did she have a nice nose to start with. Her lips were missing and fear was left in her eyes.
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"Maybe she hadn't lost everything" I thought as Bruce piggybacked me home. I just told him that I had to go- go pee, go pray, or go die? No difference really. He didn't need to know.
"Maybe she hadn't lost everything"
"Maybe she had won the battle, victorious and strong."
"Maybe".
"Definitely Maybe".
