10

Are We Still Friends?

Dorothy remembered the first time she rode in Sister Mary’s car. Sister Mary had personally picked her up from her last orphanage. To Dorothy, it didn’t really matter what orphanage she lived in. They’re all horrible places, packed full of kids, and teens who were just as retarted as the adults, she thought. It was the same day she considered Sister Mary as nothing less than a cold bitch. However, the orphanage she watched over was like nothing Dorothy had ever experienced. With six floors, it was by far larger than the last place. She couldn’t help a sigh escaping her lips as she knew how much of a pigsty the place was going to be. When she stepped inside her new home, it was not only warm but it also smelled nice. Most notably there was electricity throughout the whole building. She knew this, because she personally checked every room, figuring only the nuns got to reap the benefits of technology. There was even television, though heavily regulated by the nuns. The other children were so nice that she found herself being suspicious of any kid who acknowledged her, even the nuns who seemed to have all the patience in the world. It was all so overwhelming, that she spent her free time in the classrooms. Sure Dorothy got lucky with such a new home, but a classroom was a classroom, and most kids hated school. Stepping into one of the classrooms, she closed the door and went to find, an empty seat to do a little studying. Dorothy hesitated when she realized there was another small kid in there who was also studying, the same kid she now called Capo. He sat there, chin in his palm and elbow to his desk. The boy seemed bored out of his mind, as he read through his textbook. He gave her but a moment glance before speaking;

“This girl Mable… she says if a girl stares at a boy long enough the girl gets pregnant.” He lazily tapped the side of his index on his textbook. “I don’t think it’s true.”

“Of course, it’s not true.” Dorothy snapped. “She sounds re… like an idiot.”

“… I think she was speaking metaphorically. But for the most part, I feel like she’s just a retarted pervert,” He glanced at her for a moment as he said, “Don’t tell Sister Mary I said that.”

At that moment, Dorothy became smitten with the boy. Her new home, while wonderful, was still very much strange to her. Luckily for her, the small boy brought familiarity to her overwhelming new life. She wondered what Cap thought of her back then. She wondered what he thought of her now. Dreading the drive home from the police station for many reasons, Dorothy knew that Sister Mary was going to give her an earful about her disrespectful language towards the detective or interrogate her about what kind of trouble she was getting herself into. But instead, she was scolded for something else.

"The book you checked out from the library." Sister Mary spoke, as she focused on the road. "Don't forget to return it. If I have to pay a late fee, you will be punished."

Dorothy knew of the late fees, and internally she scoffed. She had enough money to just buy the damn book many times over. She came close to just saying it but her body jerked away from the door, her head snapping back from the window when she thought a ghost was looking back at her. It was pitch black outside but she could have sworn someone was on the other side. The face of a man she'd killed.

"Y-yeah." She said with a shaky voice.

Sister Mary glanced for a moment at Dorothy. She had known the girl long enough to know what scared her in such a way. Not even the threat of more choirs could shake her. Then again Dorothy was never one to get in trouble.

"Would you feel better if I told you what I was afraid of?" Sister Mary asked.

Dorothy clenched her fists as she shook, trying desperately not to panic. The woman's calm voice somehow speared through Dorothy's wall of anxiety. Not necessarily her voice, while it was quite capable of quieting a room full of rowdy children, what distracted Dorothy from her hallucination was the question. Looking like she had just seen a ghost, she turned her wide eyes towards Sister Mary.

"You're not afraid of anything," Dorothy said.

"... I'm afraid of being alone forever."

Dorothy's face scrunched up like she just smelled something foul in the air.

"That's the d," For a moment she forgot who she was speaking to. Sister Mary was the last woman she wanted to insult. Sure she didn't like the woman but Dorothy didn't wanna bite the hand that fed her. "You can't be alone forever. At some point, you die. What happens after that, who cares."

"... Possibilities are as endless as space itself, theoretically. That means at any moment I could wake up from this dream to find I'm stuck in a cage."

"That's an irrational fear. Nothing can exist forever. You could at least, you know… turn yourself off like a light switch. That way you don't know you're alone." Dorothy explained.

"And what if someone… flicks me back on?"

"Then you're no longer alone. It's just an irrational fear. Besides, once you're dead, that's it. Game over."

"... How would I overcome such irrational fear?" Sister Mary asked, seeming oddly interested in this conversation, Dorothy noticed.

"You just do. You take that part of your brain and tell it to shut the hell up. If it's still being a little shit then you let the fear come and turn it into rage. Then you use that rage on your enemies. You keep fighting until you're the last one standing." Dorothy gave a toothy grin as she raised her left hand in front of her face before balling it into a fist. “Fear is nothing more than adrenaline, a natural defense for what scares you the most. I think the real problem would be not being afraid.” She took a moment to think, recalling the moment she fainted from the supposed “ghosts” that kidnapped her. Dorothy furrowed her brow, thrusting her fist through the ghostly memory. It'd be back to shake her up, perhaps for the rest of her life, she thought, but as long as she faced it head-on she would be okay; She hoped. Making it back to the orphanage the lights were out, and everyone was in bed. One of the nuns was there to welcome them both home and inform Dorothy her meal was being kept warm in the kitchen. She was instructed to eat, and head straight to bed. It took every bit of willpower she had to keep in any rude remarks. She decided to keep her mouth closed and walk away. When she was finally alone she quickly went into the boy's rooms. She cracked the door open and peered inside. Giving the hallway a small glance from left to right, the girl went in, carefully stepping to Cap's bedside. It was a tad dark but the moonlight's glow was just enough to see his face. He was fast asleep with a big innocent smile on his face. A smile that was tainted thanks to the bandages in the middle of his face. Dorothy couldn't help but wonder if he told the nuns about how he got a bloody nose. She couldn't even decide if that would be good or bad. At least if the nuns knew she did it, she'd get punished. But if Cap didn't he was more than likely going to ignore it and move on. Maybe just moving on would be for the best. Forgetting it ever happened, and just continuing to make happy memories together.

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Dorothy was up bright and early. Having waited in line for breakfast, she grabbed a seat, and an empty space for her friend. She saw him in line with a big smile on his face as he spoke with the other boys in line. The cafeteria was overflowing with morning conversations so she couldn't make out what he was saying. When he got his food and walked right past her to sit with some of the other kids, Dorothy felt sick to her stomach. The meal before her may as well have been vomit with how hard she stared at it. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and ate the rest of her meal. She'd just have to try something else, she thought. She waited for him to take his dishes to the counter. Doing the same, she met him at the counter and said;

"Hey Capo, wanna,"

She trailed off as he placed his dirty dishes on the counter, and walked away. Not giving her so much as a glance. The concerning part was their topic of discussion." One of the other boys asked if he thought Mable was pretty, and Cap agreed. Complementing Mable's soft voice, and helpful personality.

"Her personality is nothing but a penis joke!" Dorothy wanted to say, but she kept her mouth shut. There were plenty of chores then, going to Sister Mary she asked; "I want to help with the boy's laundry."

Sister Mary was in the middle of writing something at her desk. Either doing business or grading some kid's papers. Her office was oddly the perfect temperature, something that gave Dorothy the chills. The last thing she’d want to be was anything like the cold-faced bitch, she thought. It was a plain yet cozy room with a window to the backyard. Where in the afternoon children would go out for activities unless a kid was disobedient enough to be kept inside as punishment. The office was stationed far away from the front door, perhaps so adults with hopes, and dreams of adoption had to walk through a wave of children, allowing a touch of fate to guide the new parent’s decision on adopting the youngest of them, surely enough. The same children that realized far too late that they would probably never see their brothers, and sisters again.

"That's a surprise." Sister Mary began, “I didn’t know you looked up to Mable.” Dorothy immediately scrunched her face in disgust for the girl with a bit of confusion. Noticing the girl's silence, Sister Mary looked up from her desk. “Mable also wishes to help out with doing the boy’s laundry today.”

“That’s only because she’s a perverted piss sniffer,” Dorothy mumbled.

She noticed Sister Mary’s skill of writing while looking straight at her. The woman stopped writing and sat down her pencil with a tap.

“She’s still grieving Jack’s death, Dorothy.” She said patiently.

“For what, he was a d… jerk.”

“One could say the same about you, and yet there are plenty who would mourn your death, specifically Cap.”

Dorothy’s now watery gaze traced the edge of the woman’s birch desk for but a moment as she fought back tears.

“He’s not speaking to me,” She began with a firm matter of fact. As if each word made her winded, the girl took another breath. “And I don’t know what to do.”

Sister Mary studied the little one on the verge of breaking. Every child there had a specific amount of coddling needed for each specific reason. Variables she’d seem to understand all too well over her years. There was no right or wrong way of raising her little ones however she wanted to make sure all of them made an attempt at problem-solving, for the future held countless obstacles. She asked herself, was this considered a way of problem-solving, and if so, was it merely a lazy form of it? While it was true that simple solutions could solve the most complex of problems she couldn’t help but wonder what Dorothy would do if she didn’t have anyone to ask for help. What happens when the girl is truly alone, more so than she felt now, how would she handle a problem then, Sister Mary asked herself; A compromise then.

“Whatever you decide to do, refrain from going back to that shooting range. I’ll be sending a letter to the owner to make sure he understands this.”

Dorothy slowly trembled with rage, angered more by the fact she sought help from Sister Mary of all people. Then again the nuns were not any better, and Mable was a filthy bitch. Here she was trying to seek help only to be reminded of what she couldn’t do. Strangely enough, the shooting range was the place that helped her friend speak again, and smile again. It wasn’t even an option in her mind until now. With a sudden realization, her overwhelming emotions subsided, being replaced with excitement, and determination. Her face lit up as she rubbed the tears from her eyes, unsure if this was Sister Mary’s intention all along.

“I have to go return my book.” Dorothy lied, but not really. Turning, she ran from Sister Mary’s office, turning right for the front door. She came back and rushed the other away past the door. “After I do my chores.” She added.