ELEVATORS (ME & YOU)
pahyejung·:
âdo you think iâm full of shit right now?â she sniffs hard as she talks and grimaces. the out-of-body euphoria sheâs waiting for hasnât hit yet, not quite. after this song, she thinks, after this moment finally passes then sheâll feel it.
God doesnât exist here.
The concept is nebulous at its best, deceptive at its worst. A myth that serves to perpetuate the worst parts of humanity; the ignorance, the willful blindness. She remembers the moment she realized this: her grandmother, back bent over her grandfatherâs bed, praying for just one more day with him before she let him go. He died in his sleep that night; painless, as far as deaths go, but the fact had never felt reassuring in the face of her grandmotherâs grief.
The only tenet in life that is certain is that it ends. That, and only that, is what sheâll hold tight in belief. If sheâs going to suffer, sheâs going to do it straight and true â no false prophets required.
She wonders: what would God think of that?
âI think,â she begins, eyes closed in the face of a wave of euphoria building behind her lids. A welcome feeling that almost part of routine, at this point. Is it an addiction? Maybe. But sheâs never been the type of person to succumb to common demons. The rush over, she opens her eyes and grins at Hyejung, smile open-mouthed and terrible in its glory, âthat you think too much.â
Small-town life comes with its caveats: the mentality behind the times; the unavoidable interconnections; the un-ending boredom. Itâs the worldâs very own version of purgatory. If she believed in the existence of it, then she probably wouldnât mind that itâd be where sheâd end up after the grave. Life going on after death; the same old story again.
âDo you feel guilty about it?â
The forest had been quiet back then. The type of silence that comes right after a spell of rain; a sort of heavy, near-lifeless lull that weighed down on her slight shoulders. No birds chirping, no insects humming; not a sound except the damp earth under their sneakers and the soft choking of the man on the tree. She remembers it all with unrelenting clarity; breathed the whole moment into her lungs and let it settle in the back of her mind like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake.
There are some things you just have to carry around with you, sheâd realized in time. Death is one of them.
âI think about it sometimes,â itâs matter-of-fact, her tone, âthe forest. The guy. The âwhat-ifâ. What do you think we couldâve done?â Shitty cell service on their pathetic little phones. Skinny arms; twig legs. Little aptitude for climbing, and even less so with their wet shoes. The too-late realization of the rope around his neck. âDid you even know who he was? Maybe I knew, but it didnât feel like I recognized his face.â
âMaybe we were meant to see it.â Fate, or some other bullshit concept like that. Thereâs little consolation in the idea. âBut I donât think we were meant to stop it. So itâs fucked us up; do you think we werenât already?â She smiles again, lips taut against her teeth as leans back and enjoys the momentum within her.
