Beyond the Horizon

Noon

In front of the water fountain near Town Square. That is how we agreed to meet, or at least I thought we did. It would be a shame if they didn’t show up now after we agreed to face our fears together. Yet, there were no signs of my compatriots. Then again, I didn’t know what signs to look for. The only clues I had were “Freshwater_Dolphin” and “Hemingway575”, their usernames from our chat rooms. This would be the first time we’ve met in real life, everything I knew about my friends came from our voice chats online.

Dolphin had his now deceased pet goldfish as his avatar, he likes papercraft, hates sports, and from what I could tell was a total failure at life. Catastrophe couldn’t even begin to describe him, everything he had ever attempted in life whether it be picking up a girl, college, or getting a job, he completely failed at it. Dolphin flopped around through life so much to the point where Hemingway and I started calling him our little “fish out of water”.

Hemingway had an oak tree as his avatar, he likes Doctor Who, hates the government, and from what I could tell was the most impulsive person I’ve ever met. Hemingway had rambled on for hours at a time about how his fiancé left him, lamenting about how much he had accomplished in life before he attempted to settle somewhere for a quiet family life. And we listened… until it was clear that Hemingway’s anxious vents were almost always drunken, long-winded rants that went nowhere in disguise. Since Hemingway complained so much, and because he mentioned he had orange hair once, Dolphin and I nicknamed him “Ronald Weasley”.

As for me, I’ve collected an impressive monopoly of stylized anime characters that I alternate through for my avatar. I used to play the piano but I got bored of that this past summer and I’d do anything to get out of going to school next week, I’ve never made any friends or learned anything useful from it so I figured I probably never will. Both Hemingway and Dolphin could tell from my voice that I was a girl and after telling them a bit about my life they deemed me to be extraordinarily ordinary. So much so that my nickname amongst them is “Mary Sue”.

About two hours passed as the autumn bound sun slid itself further down into view. After so much waiting, I sighed in melancholy and eventually decided to walk back home. They had abandoned me. After walking a few steps away from the gushing fountain spring, I could make out a faint, but familiar voice amongst the sputtering water and screaming children running around the fountain.

“Mary?” a smooth voice suddenly fell upon my right ear as a hand firmly grasped my shoulder. I perked up with glee, I was about to meet Hemingway575. 

I turned around to see a disheveled mane of ginger hair knit around the dimpled, hospitable face of a man no older than thirty. He was dapper and kindly enough that if it wasn’t for his mangled beard and receding hairline, I would’ve mistaken him for royalty.

“Are you Hemingway?” I asked precautiously, still considering the possibility that I had been stood up and that this strange man was a dad who had lost his child. 

“Yes, but please, call me Mark.”, the gentleman replied while lowering his hand to grasp mine and dragged me to the other side of the fountain.

“Dolphin, this is Mary, Mary meet Dolphin.” Mark gallantly proclaimed.

I had been introduced to a goblin, a gremlin, a true modern hunchback of Notre Dame, who couldn’t have been older than 18. Despite his physical appearance, his genuine, melty smile & hollow, mellow eyes met even with the outward impression of Mark’s charisma.

“I-I-I’m Ferdinand, or Dolphin, I guess, w-w-whichever one you prefer I guess.” Ferdinand stammered in his ragged t-shirt and ripped blue jeans. It was clear how awestruck Ferdinand was at how well dressed Mark and I were, we wanted to look our best for the moment that we conquered our fears, however it seems our poor fish out of water had simply given up hope.

“Ferdinand, did you bring the equipment with you?” Mark inquired.

Ferdinand nodded his head up and down.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“The chairs, rope, everything… it’s all in my car.”

“Excellent, we’ll be driving to our camping spot in my truck if that’s all right, we’ll be there before sunset.” Mark replied.

Ferdinand and I glanced at each other, and then back at Mark, who was grinning in reassurance of our excitement. After reading our faces like a book, Mark snickered and pulled his hair back.

“Let’s go then, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us.” Mark enticed us.

My eyes glimmered as my feet moved on their own. Is this what a soldier feels like marching into battle? This great sense of duty, the anticipation toward this very moment? It’s like I’ve been trained for it all my life and that these were the only people I could do it with. The only people that could put my status as a social outcast to rest and made me feel invigorated to action. I felt stronger. This car ride was a moment two years in the making from when we all first met in our darkest hour, throughout all the grim weeping and mourning, and finally to today, our brightest moment. We are finally fulfilling our long-promised reunion.

“This is pretty cool right? How many people get to meet their online pen pals face-to-face?” Mark asked, scanning the interior of his truck only to find the exact two timid kids he should have expected out of his online chats.

Ferdinand snapped out of his daydreamed trance that he was in as he thought over Mark’s question. He bashfully came forward.

“Yeah, it must be especially cool since we’re agreeing to conquer our fears this e-evening… honestly I’m glad you both showed up, I wouldn’t have been able to go through with it on my own, and I don’t know how long I’d have to continue living scared like this.”

Mark snickered gleefully to himself.

“No problem man, you could say the same for me.” Mark then paused and glanced back at my stoic face in the backseat and winced slightly.

“You’re pretty young Mary, are you sure you still want to go through with this.” he asked in nervous hospitality.

Instinct told me to pick up my head with deliberacy and determination whilst staring him dead in the eyes and making my point clear, like I did during our chats. But reason had convinced me otherwise. I was lucky enough that they even let me come with, I should answer politely, like an adult.

“I’ve never been so certain of anything in my entire life.” I admitted, although my entire life hasn’t lasted as long as his, he understood my resolve. To Mark, I had scribed my commitment into the air, and that’s all Mark ever needed. A shred of commitment from anyone who would listen. As Mark yanked the stick of his truck into drive, I knew there was no going back.

Ferdinand put in his Queen CD, he had remembered that we all loved Queen along with many other bands he knew we liked to listen to, which he had brought with him in a carefully picked collection. Ferdinand might’ve been a fish out of water, but he sure was a people pleaser. The rest of the car ride was a truly magical moment, getting to bond with the only friends that I feel I could trust, watching the sun shift the sky’s mood from a blinding bright blue into a somber, cozy blanket of orange as the sun began to tuck itself into a starry night blanket.

We arrived at the campsite at the perfect time, just before sunset. It really was as perfect as Mark had scope it out to be. A long bank of trimmed yet unkempt grass perched along a clifftop that grew a single oak tree with wide, parting branches thick enough to support the weight of a crowd, yet aged enough into the seasons to have its autumnal leaves and twigs coat the grass below it. Right below its strongest branch, there was a clear view of the sunset, free of the city skyline, merely the hues of the sky backdropping a glowing opal as it careened into a horizon highlighted with dark, foggy clouds.

Today would really be the day we let go, finally conquered our fears, and set off beyond the horizon.

Mark grabbed Ferdinand’s equipment and set up our three chairs right below the sturdy branch front-facing the sunset whilst Ferdinand tied our rope above us. We all stood on our chairs, ready to rest at our campsite, fully knowing that we wouldn’t be needing any tents tonight. I stood in the center, Ferdinand stood at my right, and Mark to my left. I gave out knives to each of their hands and we began to slit each other’s wrists, down the arms, making sure not to miss any crucial veins despite the excruciating pain, as we lowered our heads into each noose.

As we kicked back our chairs and hung our heads, we gazed out into the horizon and looked down at each other’s hands, clasping our bleeding wrists together, reaffirming our pact with lasting handhold and a breathtaking view of our autumnal grave spotted with our crimson blood as the sky bled out its last hue of purple.

A grimace came across my face.

I had done it.

I had conquered my fear.