Mystery Lake

[36] Alyssa Emotion

I'm sorry. I am so sorry. That's all I can be sometimes. Mostly, I'm just scared.

I used to be such a happy kid who didn't worry about anything. When did that end? It feels like a long time ago. I wore big powder blue dresses and danced.

Would anyone recognize the kid I used to be beside who I am now? No way. Had to be completely different people. But it was all an illusion, same as childhood dwells in fantasies. I just lived them.

I loved fairytales—precious stories of downtrodden, oppressed fair maidens who would inevitably get their dues. A handsome prince was going to take me to his castle, followed by a big wedding, bigger kisses, a big dance, a scene missing, and lots of beautiful children. I think it was when I started to doubt Santa Claus that everything started to change.

Other kids had cogent and well-developed arguments for and against Santa. For me, it was always a matter of faith and sensibility. My mom and dad believed in all sorts of things, and by association, so did I. I believed that our mobile home was the most fantastical place in the trailer park. I believed that eating everything on my plate would make it so mom and dad wouldn't fight that evening. I believed that every slap I received was deserved, no matter what I did or what I thought I did.

Before I should've, I aged out of childhood. I had to take care of my little sisters and I had to check in on my big brother. Mom wouldn't do it, and dad wasn't around enough for it to matter. Eventually, I just became the manager of the institution that represented this household. Without any of the perks and benefits of that role.

Everyone in class seemed so peculiar and foreign to me, like I was this weird exchange student or perhaps some visitor from a faraway realm… Yeah, that was it. What odd specimens!

Despite all those hang-ups, I actually made some friends. There was Caleb above all. My closest hope for a handsome prince. Although he often acted more like a frog, leaping off the highest point of the watering hole that we all knew. I cracked several bones following him and have had a tingling numbness in my left hand ever since. Worth it just to sneak a kiss with him under some pine trees. He was fun, but he still perturbed me at the weirdest moments.

He would never show up when he said he would and then act like it wasn't a big deal. I had all sorts of plans with him, but he never showed any enthusiasm for them. I just wanted to be happy, and I wanted him to be happy too. But he wanted other things, and they clearly didn't include me. As much as I imagined beautiful hopes and dreams with him, I had a dark side that imagined pushing him off the edge of the ravine, squeezing him till he stopped moving, and all sorts of other stuff.

Not that I could actually do any of that. By strength or by morals. How can you imagine something so terrible about someone you love so intensely? I was fucked up; there was no other answer.

And I wound up alone. I was the one bird left in the nest after my older sibling had found their way, and my younger ones gleefully spread their wings while I was still just trying to stretch them out. I wanted to go to college; I needed to go to college to be separate, to be myself, and to be with others who might understand me.

But I was left with a mountain of responsibilities for late payments, deferred responsibilities, and so much more I don't even want to think about. My parents dropped their debts on me by getting sick and not caring what happened to them. It was all left to me. I wasn't responsible; that's what everyone else told me. But someone had to be. Call it a guilt complex, codependency, or whatever. All the crap that I know in name from classes that feel barren of actually teaching me the things I want to know.

I had Jess Butler for my first group activity in college, and she was the first person who actually looked me in the eye rather than sliding their eyes across the room and stopping when they hit me. It wasn't love, despite what my gaggle of roommates would say. She wasn't my hero to save me. Not that any of that mythology matters anymore.

All I can say about those others around me is that it no longer surprises me how subversive and wild you can be while sounding like a child. So many spoiled brats in college. No one taking actual responsibility; everyone acts like spraying and saying gay gay gay will make up for all the ways the word was abused as a slur before. But it always feels more like children finding an alternative F-bomb that pisses off everyone. It just destroyed word meaning. If everything is gay, then nothing is. Words get used up.

I am probably a lesbian, but I am pissed off at the fact that I looked so obviously like one. I'm not gay because it's pseudo-popular and trendy as shit. I just want to be loved. I want to be protected. I don't want to be afraid of what the next day will bring or of the horrors I never thought of or neglected. I just want to go back to that powder blue dress when the world could be beautiful.

But I'm not like the freaking campus conservative club. That would be the worst thing; not even my parents were like that. The world needs UBI, clean energy, love for nature, a lot less sucking off of the rich class, from smiling billionaires to creepy celebrities, and help. Real help, real camaraderie. Real friendship. Real love.

It rips me up inside that someone like Jess decided to settle for someone like Joel. I can see some of his good qualities. He's durable. His thoughts are simple, and he defaults to smiling easily. I'm surprised he didn't coast his way here on a football scholarship or anything like that. But it's probably in the same vein. He'll keep that smile fresh for decades and never wear it out. How can he do that when pulling out a single sustained smile feels like the worst workout for me? Just frustrating.

But I have to smile because, if I don't, then everyone has the same preconception about me based on how I look. Things need to change, but I never expected they would change so much from just a simple start to spring break.

I was in my room, mostly alone, and trying to write poetry that expulsed all the stuff that I kept inside when Duncan knocked on my door. I knew him from a film elective I took last quarter. He was kind of cute, but too much like a girl for even me.

He seemed like he had a lot on his mind. He came over to ask me if I wanted to go with him to this storied lake, almost on the upper peninsula. He had asked a bunch of other people too and framed it like an adventure. In my head, I imagined an unlikely band of heroes from the stories I used to enjoy being thrown together on an adventure. I expected trouble finding rest stops, bugs, and all sorts of nasty wildlife when camping out. Really, my room and my bed, which I hadn't spent enough time in lately with everything I had on my plate, were much more tempting. But something in my head told me to take a chance. At least it shouldn't be boring.

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I felt less enthused when I learned that Joel would be coming along. I should've guessed because his roommate Barry was on the list, and Duncan tended to hang out with Joel. So much for a seamless adventure clan.

I kept quiet through most of the trip, although I could feel Joel's gaze on the back of my neck the entire time. His laugh was so jarring, and every prying word he popped out made me cringe. It took all my willpower not to make something of it. I knew it was going to be a long day. I just had no idea how right I would be about that.

The lake felt off as soon as we arrived. It was too calm, too abandoned, and too freaky. Instead of being peaceful, it felt like walking around a gravesite that no one else recognized. I wanted to hold my breath like in Eastern traditions, but it's hard to do that constantly.

As soon as we arrived, Joel started in on his usual crap. Laughing and goofing. I don't mind gregarious, goofy people, but some things need to be taken seriously. He just kept pushing and pushing and pushing. And then he shoved poor Barry into the lake. Small credit to him, but he didn't chuck the poor guy in carelessly. It still looked awful, though. You never know what's in a lake like this, and one small oversight can lead to a lifetime injury.

Fortunately, that wasn't what any of us needed to be worried about, as the poor guy came up as a scared girl.

You asshole. I said it, and I meant it. Well, maybe I didn't completely mean it for him. He is an asshole, though I know there's always wiggle room in that. But why wiggle? I have to be bold; I have to be sure. He needed to know that he screwed up, even though none of us could've predicted this. Well, except for Duncan. I didn't sense that he had malicious intent in bringing us here, despite what Joel said, even though Joel sort of raised some good points.

But my thoughts about him completely changed when I saw what was going on in his pants. Oh, my God. Why the fuck did I not feel worse about seeing that? It's just a dumb organ. I'm a lesbian. I might be a lesbian. I don't know. I just like girls sometimes, but I really don't like Joel.

Poor Barry; at least she didn't seem too disturbed by that appearance. Layla came to her aid and helped her get decent. I helped out as much as I could while scowling at Joel. Barry was a nice boy, and he made for a cute girl. But he didn't deserve to be one if he didn't want to be. No one… Well. Maybe Joel deserved it.

That would be appropriate. The big, tough, self-assured manly man, what kind of girl would you make? Can you take the weight, can you take the struggles, and can you stand all the craziness involved in the opposite sex? I feel like I could. Boys are Easy Mode. No complicated crap to figure out; just nod at another guy, and you're friends for life, where girls can be smiling and hugging, and you don't know for sure how much of your guts are being hated. Just let things be simple.

Oh Barry. We're gonna have to look out for you. I'm not jealous; those are way too big. But you are cute. Always are. You can have whatever clothes you want. I got a nice sweater to keep you warm and covered and not have to deal with all this.

I don't know what the deal is with this lake, but I am surprised that he adapted so quickly to the small and big things of a new form, like walking, where to look and cover, body language, being used to so much hair, and all the rest. Magic probably. Magic exists. This world has magic in it, and yet it has such abominable cruelty. Maybe those two things go together.

I don't know. I don't hold anything against Barry. Poor guy. What do I do about it? Should I do anything about it? Really, just let Joel hang. He's a fuckup who fucked up. Yet, I can already see Jess accepting his explanation. Pretty little words. My parents had pretty little words. They had perfect little explanations despite being dumb hillbillies. You can't reason with madness. You can't dampen crazy charisma. I am so over all that.

I looked into the lake water, and I wondered what would happen if I just drowned my head. Would I get the top of a boy and leave the rest behind? Maybe it's one touch, and it goes through everything. What kind of boy would I be? Probably better than I am. I thought about it idly, but that idle thought was growing into a stronger sense. I could throw this life away.

I could chuck all the confusion, pain, and havoc. I could dispense with all the contradictions and give myself a new slate. Head to the boy's side. Totally give up that blue dress forever. It's fine; it was just a dream of wearing it, a dream of happiness, a dream of hope, a dream of freedom, a dream of all the rest and all the possibilities before me, shut tight. It's fine.

But I can't do it. I can't go in the water. What would everyone think of me?

Why don't you deal with Joel?

What? Who said that?

A friend. Just someone who thinks that you should show him how you really feel. Don't put a clamp on it. Don't shut it off. Just do it.

It's crazy. This is crazy. I'm going crazy... Probably. Why not? I've been so close to it so many times. God. Do I even believe in You?

Don't worry. Everything will be fine, just as long as you splash Joel with some of the water. There's the bucket. It doesn't need to be that much. Just make sure you get him in the face.

Why? Why are you here? Why are you talking to me? Who are you? What do you want?

I'm just a friend to keep you company. You don't have to worry. Everything will be fine. Trust me. Just grab that bucket and take care of that smug boy. It's what you want to do; it's taking charge of your life. Don't hold back. Free yourself.

No. I can't do it. But you're right. I have to do it. It'll be fine. He'll be better off this way. But it's permanent. There's no going back. I'm destroying Joel. I'm killing him. Well, then I'll just have to destroy myself too.

I can do it. We'll all have a fresh start. We'll all be free. Right? It's gonna be okay. All you have to do is make it happen.

I didn't even feel like I was doing it when I scooped the water carefully out of the lake. The lady inside my head—at least I think it's a lady—warned me to be careful touching it and not fall in. As though I need to be careful, considering what I hope to do very soon.

I went over there, snuffed out Joel's life, and made a dumb quip. All the while, I heard the faint traces of laughter from my companion that sounded just like mine.