The Grey
Life, Chapter VI
About
a year after Shanai was dead I was sitting alone in the house while a
party raged deathlessly around me. I had been doing a lot of sitting
alone that year. For some reason, I didn't have such the urge to move
around at house parties anymore. The people around me seemed to be
having a good time, though. Where I was, in the back of the cold,
brick basement on a broken weight bench, there hung in the air just
the hint of a chill, as if incubating like a deadly virus, lustfully
savage before the attack. Several brothers of mine were standing in a
large circle to my right telling ridiculous stories in a brash and
chaotic manner. There were lots of loud voices, I remember, lots of
activity. And shouting. Lots of shouting.
It
was dark, too. I remember that. The only light came in through the
stairs, and there was some that came through the windows, too, but
that was it.
I
was on three of my favorite drugs at the time. I had been occupying
myself for some time under their influence, especially now that
Antonius had just come back to town. There was nothing like
detachment, like setting my mind in a frame where the horror of what
happened was no longer inconceivable
Lots
of shouting. I remember lots of shouting.
"Lewis!
Lewis! Chug a beer! Lewis!" Cries of ascent.
because
then I could start to deal with reality and try, in any way I could,
to forge some sort of resolution and get on with my life.
"But
that's not how it happened!"
"No
rebuttal!" Many voices now. Voices of all types. "No
rebuttal!"
Antonius
was the only one who could share the pain with me. Shanai had almost
cut him as deeply as she had me. So we liked to hang out together in
those days and feel depressed, dope up and become detatched. And we
grew closer in our detatchment.
That
night I was drunk, high, and wired off my ass. And there were also
these little snowflakes... The recipe was fine that night, and, if I
remember correctly, involved rather large amounts of the correct
ingredients. And I was really into my high, my trip if you please.
All
the intrusions, all the voices. Louder then softer they're BREAKING
ME UP!!!
"No
rebuttal! Douse him! Douse him!" Humph.
"But
that's -"
(but
what? that's what?)
"No
rebuttal!" Cries of ascent.
(no,
really - what were you going to say?)
My
vision reminded me of a movie screen. It was like - I was watching a
horror flick or something. I could only see feet crawling, because my
head was so heavy it was aiming for the floor. Pairs of feet all
organizing themselves in pictures and then scampering hurriedly off
to another location.
But
none of them stopped before me.
(there
is quite the difference, son, between knowing what is known and
understanding it)
Of
course, all my fraternity brothers believed by then, after a year,
that my "breakdown" - as some so adaquately decided to term
my grief - was permanent. And they knew how I was like when I was
disturbed from a trip, especially when I was really falling into it,
like I was then.
No
rebuttal! Crying and shouting and
(Where
are my children!?!)
screaming.
No
rebuttal.
(O,
MY GOD!!! Where are my children!? Where are my fucking
Suddenly
the angels were there. There was a light far away in the distance.
Its weak rays passed by these broken, cloaked angels, unable to
illuminate them.
CHILDREN!!!!)
Two
visions subsisted as one.
I
was still in the fraternity house and they were still shouting all
around me. And I was also before this monstrous tribunal...
(If
you've done anything to them -!)
There's
one of them close to me. The leader. And he's speaking with me. To
me. "You know why they can't see you?" he purrs.
He's
pacing in front of me. Like a judge. His voice is a mere whisper on
the waves of my high. They're calm right now. But my heart is racing
in my head. I'm waiting to hear the answer. Tensed. Poised. Dying,
even...
His
feet (I can only see feet) pass in front of me. "You know why
they can't see you?"
So
full of hate he is. So hating. The other angels are standing solemnly
by like statues. They don't move.
Monstrous
tribunal.
"You
know why they can't see you." He's in front of me again and now
he's leaning closer. His face must be just before mine (but I'm
looking at the floor) and yet I can feel no breath. And as he moved,
I remember hearing the sounds of stone bending. Hard and cracking.
"Because
you're already dead."
All
of a sudden I'm in the woods. A bright, sunny day in the woods. But
this forest is a different kind of forest that you're probably
imagining. The trees in this forest are all straight and go more or
less up! And the low brush is twisted and unhealthy. It's all
the same kind. And it's very shadowy in here. The trees are large.
There are no animals, at least none where I am. For some reason
they're all afraid.
The
image has the consistency of a movie screen that's three feet wide.
It's all as if this vision, this big idea, were being squished
between the folds of reality and I'm just smart enough to bend over
and take a closer look...
Fear.
No
rebuttal!
Douse
him!
They're
coming after me again.
I
had never had this vision before, but I knew it had a history and
that a part of that history was with me, in some other form perhaps,
or consciousness, and so I knew this had happened before. They had
come after me once before.
And
now they're after me again.
So
I must run. It's the only solution, really. After all I can't stand
and face them. It's not allowed.
Already
the charges have been brought against me and judgement passed,
without even a breath of a cry from my person in defense.
NO
REBUTTAL!
There
are dead leaves on the ground but the trees are all draped in a deep,
yet fading green. And my footsteps land in the soft mud, striking the
ground in rapid thumps, cushioned only by the thin bed of leaves.
Crackling for one fleeting instant before being silenced by the ever
vengeful earth.
But
that noise is enough for them to hear me. (fear me.)
Running,
faster, never stopping. FEAR! Fear in my throat pushes my limp feet
onward, faster and faster. The trees are racing by and it's then that
I know I'm missing something, something important, but I don't know
what it is or maybe I'd stop for it.
I
knew they were catching up to me, of course. I could sense them. But
each time I glanced behind me there was nothing but the calm, cold
forest staring back all squished into three feet of space.
And
then they had me. I came to a dead halt in the forest, but they came
right on at me, striking with a lightening precision...
A
full, rectangular shadow falls over me, deadening the whole
experience in eternal twilight.
And
then
everything
stops.
I
can still see myself, as from outside myself, staring up at the sky
in horror, the shadow drowning me in thick menace as I try to scream,
but it's stopped. It's frozen.
Now
you can see it's just another hardened image, and even harder to look
upon than that.
So
they're still after me.
The
thick green beast chasing after me, always. But there's nothing I can
do about it. I can run, but I don't think I'll ever be able to hide.
You
think this is paranoia. You think I'm crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm just
tired.
So
they're after me. They've always been after me. Since I was twenty.
And I can still hear the screaming. Except now they're screaming at
me:
(NO
REBUTTAL!)
Footsteps
still. And they're coming closer.
(The
sharp rush of air on wings, fast and deadly.)
You
may find this horrifying.
(Horrifying?
No, I don't think so. A simple way of life maybe.) Sometimes I don't
know why I'm running from them.
(Shouldn't
I just stop?)
Because
sooner or later they really will catch me. Tear me up. Let the blood
run loose over the cool rocks.
But
life is worse.
I
feel ...
(Metallically:)
I feel like I'm in a room with a hole in the center. And it's sucking
everything in. Even reality. And all of my friends. I have to watch
them go down, kicking and screaming, always knowing that I'll be
going soon...
Can
you save me?
Because
since I was twenty I've felt the tug. Deep darkness is calling me.
Since
I was twenty, they've really been after me.
What
can be worse than that?
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Adam Wasserman.
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