Much like that evening, the next few days went by like a blur. I was in and out of consciousness, constantly lost in my own disappointment with myself. I couldn’t focus in class. It was all just far too tiresome for me to deal with. Every day, I’d hoped that I could see Gwen, and everyday Lawrence would tell me that she hadn’t shown up. The rest of the day would just be a test of patience as I waited for tomorrow in the hopes that she’d finally show. Before I knew it, Friday had come, and I was forced to accept that I’d have to wait until Monday to see her.
“’Kay, so little known fact about Marcus Green. During his first police interview after he was apprehended, he actually never mentioned feeling things like regret or fear or anger or anything else. The officers said he spoke calmly like he was talking about beheading some chickens for dinner. It’s weird, right? I mean, I figure if you’re gonna go around killing that many people you’ve gotta have some kind of reason for it, right? Think about this: psychologists think that Ted Bundy’s unresolved anger issues led to his killing spree, Jeffrey Dahmer was trying to satisfy some weird sexual craving he had, and the Unabomber thought the modern world was just about the worst thing ever. But what about Marcus Green, man? He camped out in the woods around lake Irma for years and dragged people deep inside before brutally mutilating them. What was going on there? Was he a cannibal? Was he paid to do it?”
“Lance, I’m sorry but I really don’t care right now,” I said.
“Hang on Trist, I’m getting to the best part. So during the interview, the more the police spoke to the guy to try and figure out his motives, the more they began to realize that like, he just couldn’t understand the concept of why it was wrong. To him, killing carried the same moral consideration as cutting down a tree or swatting a mosquito. So they had him talk to some psychologists, and boom. Turns out the guy thought he was like, a different being than other humans. Like, something better. Maybe he thought he was God or something. I dunno. It’s weird though. While his parents got divorced when he was a teenager, he otherwise had an average family life and an average school experience as far as they could tell. He was, for all intents and purposes, just a normal dude. He just happened to think that he was a superior species to the rest of us. But that kinda raises a question. Just how many Marcus Greens are living among us without our knowing?”
“What’s the point of this story?” I asked.
“I’m thinking of going vegan. What if I’m like Marcus Green but for animals? I eat them because I’m human and they’re just chickens and cows, but isn’t that how Marcus Green looked at other people? Kinda makes me feel like I’m a psychopath for doing this.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” he said, taking a bite out of his ham sandwich. “Think about it, they were living things just like you. You didn’t kill them but like, aren’t you contributing to their deaths by buying animal meat and technically funding their genocide?”
“Genocide is only when you’re killing people, dude.”
“You’re right, and that’s another thing. Why isn’t there a word for the systematic killing of animals anyway? There’s a word for every other kind of killing. Suicide, homicide, genocide, patricide, matricide, infanticide. What do we have for killing animals for meat en masse? Systematic slaughtering? Just doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it? If you ask me, the only reason we look away from that stuff is because we never made it taboo like every other kind of killing. And if that’s the case, then what’s the difference between me and Marcus Green? Could I kill other people like that if I was just never taught that it was taboo? I wonder if his stomach turned the first time he killed someone? Digging his knife into their guts, carving them open like a clueless animal, not even batting an eye as they wailed in terror at the sights and sounds and smells of being skinned alive by his butcher’s knife…”
“Not at lunch, man. Come on.”
Lance seemed to have been doing some kind of internet deep dive on Deer Valley’s own local serial killer incident from back in the 80s. Whenever the guy learns about something new, he makes it his mission to find some way to fit it into every conversation. It’s not like he particularly cares about whether he should eat meat or not. He’s just drunk on fantasizing about some holier-than-thou, morally clean vegan lifestyle that would make him better than Marcus Green.
“Okay. I’m gonna be honest Trist,” he suddenly spoke up. “I’m trying really hard not to ask about what happened between you and Zoey. You look like a depressed husband that just lost his wife to cancer, and she looks like she hasn’t slept in like a month. What the hell is going on between you two?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“What? Cuz we’re friends. Duh.”
“That didn’t stop you from hiding your Naomi stuff from me though.”
He sighed. “Alright that’s a little different. This is obviously eating you inside so just come out and talk about it. You clearly want to.”
“And your thing wasn’t eating at you? You’ve been a wreck this past week too. And yet it took Gwen practically forcing it out of you to finally tell me about it. And why haven’t you told Naomi how you feel yet anyway? She’s still talking to Lawrence because you posted that stupid picture of you and Jaz.”
“Dude, I deleted it as quickly as I could… ugh. Okay, fine. I fucked up. A lot. Are you happy?”
“Not really. I think I’d look like less of a depressed husband if you and Naomi started hanging out again.”
Lance said nothing. His empty eyes were looking somewhere far past me. Whatever it was, he eventually gave up and returned to his sandwich. I initially thought that he’d been angry at what I said after the silence followed. But judging by the look on his face, he must have genuinely been unable to respond.
“Hey Lance, listen…”
“Tristan, do you have a minute?”
I turned to the sound of the voice, reluctantly, to the source. A disheveled Zoey Brahm who looked like she had been fighting for her life for the past few days. I didn’t know what was causing her so much distress, but I didn’t care. I thought that she genuinely deserved to suffer for what she did to Gwen.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“I’m having lunch.”
“You can take it with you then.”
She was as bossy as ever. It’s funny how attractive her pushy personality was when I had been looking at her through rose-colored glasses, and how aggravating it had become since the incident.
“Will this take long?”
“Please, just come.”
“I don’t...”
“Just go Trist. You look like you have some things you want to say to her too,” Lance said.
The nosiness he had when it came to my affairs was pushing me over the edge.
“You know Lance,” I said, standing up. “I just really wished you could feel like you could talk to people about things.”
“Sorry, dude.”
After tossing one more nugget into my mouth, I followed behind Zoey who seemed determined to lead me away from the cafeteria. My resolve had already begun to waver. I was being relied upon by that Zoey Brahm. Despite my animosity towards her, there was this powerful surge of energy swelling up inside of me. But I did my best to stifle it. I would not go back to being her toy, and I wanted to make that clear today.
We eventually arrived after traversing all the way over to the photography club room. I hadn’t been there since the incident with Gwen, so to be honest, it wasn’t exactly a comforting place to be. The curtain was all hung up on the barrier again, and there wasn’t a bee in sight. I supposed that she managed to get rid of them all when I left.
“You haven’t answered my calls or texts.” She laid her head down and rested her body on the sofa.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve been feeling lonely, you know. Doesn’t that kind of make you a bad boyfriend?”
“I didn’t know you were capable of feeling anything.”
“You know,” she said with a sigh. “This is what I was really worried about with Dream Paralysis. I was worried that you’d get to know me too well. When you said you had no access to my memories, I was honestly relieved. But I think that might have actually been better than the reality of it.”
I knew what she was referring to, but I didn’t say anything.
“Words or stories can’t really communicate things about a person the way experiencing their feelings can. If I told you that I couldn’t love, you’d probably think that I was just scared of having feelings for someone. That, with enough effort, you could break through my shell and win me over to your side. But because of Dream Paralysis, you found out that I, quite literally, cannot fall in love. It’s not something I’m capable of. I’ve looked it up before. Apparently, it’s called being aromantic. While I do have certain desires for members of the opposite sex, I can’t actually fall in love with them, which is something you learned very early on thanks to your power.”
She said it without room for refutation. Our relationship was a sham, and it would always be a sham.
“So why did you call me here? Are you going to fuck me over the way you did Gwen?”
“No, Tristan. I want to start over.”
“How? You’ve ruined it.”
“How have I ruined it, Tristan?” she asked. “Pray tell, what have I done besides help you out of every single mess you found yourself in?”
“Help me?” I felt my fist clenching. Even yelling at her with everything I had wouldn’t have cleansed me of the anger I felt.
“Oh, you’re talking about Gwen…” The way she spoke about it as if she’d completely forgotten about it already pissed me off. As if her stupid life of taking pictures is just so damn interesting. “I do feel bad about it, but it’s not like I can do anything about it now.”
“Zoey, that’s not true. You know it’s not true. You can apologize. You can come clean. There’s so many fucking things that you can do right now.”
“No, I can’t Tristan. She’s gone.”
“She’s… what?”
“She transferred out. She’s moving to Atlanta. There’s nothing I can do anymore.”
“What the fuck…”
“Tristan.” She sat up.
“No. Don’t fucking ‘Tristan’ me, Zoey. There’s no defending this. Why would you… she could have died!”
“I don’t know, Tristan. I feel terrible about it.”
“SHE COULD HAVE DIED!”
My anger was at its boiling point. Should I have just walked out right at that moment? What she did was beyond psychopathic. To meticulously craft a life-or-death situation like that just to manipulate the other person into giving you what you want is irredeemable.
“Did you have me hack you so I’d be more onboard with your idea?”
“No, I needed to sleep.”
“Liar.”
“Tristan… please. I haven’t been able to sleep.”
“I hope you never sleep again.”
“Please, please. I just…”
While I had been doing my best to deny what she was saying, the truth is, it was the first time I’d seen the domineering Zoey look so feeble. It was like I could snap her in half if I so much as touched her. She was practically groveling at my feet.
“You just what?”
“I just need you to watch me while I sleep. I can’t sleep without you anymore.”
“Oh, you can’t? You can’t sleep without me anymore? Well-”
Her words suddenly sunk in.
Of course, I had been all too familiar with the pain of being unable to sleep.
The weight of those sleepless nights never truly left your shoulders. It affected everything that I did, every interaction with another person, every class, even my own enjoyment of my hobbies…
None of it felt like I was living. Like I was truly living.
I was just trying to get by, drifting through the day in the hopes that I could finally, eventually get some rest.
But I never really did.
Not unless I thought of Zoey.
And here she was, asking the same of me.
She said that she couldn’t sleep unless I stayed with her.
Was she being serious?
Or was it all just a ploy to get me to sympathize with her?
No, I don’t think I’ve told anyone except my parents or my psychiatrist about my sleeping issues. I hadn’t even told Lance.
“Tristan, please. Just stay with me for a while.”
She was the kind of tired you couldn’t fake. It was obvious to anyone who’d seen her in the past few days. Even Lance had mentioned it earlier. So what if she was a terrible person? I wouldn’t wish what I go through every night on my worst enemy. And, after all, she was the one who had helped me through all of those sleepless nights in the first place.
“Fine.”
“Thanks Tristan.”
She smiled then placed her head back down on the sofa. She was using her sturdy bag as support for her head. She must not have been in a place to pick or choose, but I suppose it didn’t matter. After all, it only took a minute for her to go out cold. I could tell by the change in her breathing and the relaxed look on her face that she had passed out.
Just how long had she been holding it in for? Was it the guilt of screwing Gwen over causing her this much distress?
If it was, then maybe I shouldn’t have eased her mind.
“She transferred…”
My nails were digging into the skin of my palm.
The fact that Zoey was able to sleep so soundly while Gwen had essentially been bullied into moving away by her was a farce of the worst kind. Zoey got away with everything she’d done. From hacking her own mother for beer, to manipulating me into rigging the homecoming game, then using me to hack Laura for seemingly no reason. And all that is without mentioning how she ruined Gwen’s first relationship, then threatened and blackmailed her like she was just an objective to complete in a video game.
I found my hands curling gently around her defenseless neck. If I wanted to, I could end her life right this second, I thought. She had put so much trust in me by allowing me next to her sleeping body. I could exact revenge on her for Gwen’s sake with little resistance if I wanted to.
But in the next second, I found myself seated at the computer desk, the chair turned to face her. There was no point. Doing that would have made me the same as her. Human beings don’t need to operate in such a cold way. We’re capable of caring about things outside of ourselves and forming genuine connections of trust. I’ll grant her these few hours of sleep as a thank you for all those sleepless nights she had gotten me through. But once we’re done here, I will say my goodbyes. I can’t have her warp my mind any more than she already has.