Ivy, Hospital Beds, and Closing Doors
His very first time was almost his very last.
Thatâs not to say he did not enjoy the experience. Or that it wasnât something he had been hoping for, yearning for, his entire life. He had come achingly close before, only to be stopped short or fall apart. But finally, it happened, he succeeded. And the moment was almost everything he had imagined it would be.
But after the moments of bliss and ecstasy faded, the cold truth flooded his bodyâŠhe had betrayed everything.
After all, this was a moment that was built on connection. Connection to the environment, to the sights and sounds and sensesâŠto the people you were with. That he had found this moment, this experience, without the connections he had relied onâŠwith people he never imagined knowingâŠcould be nothing but betrayal. After all, he was far from home, far from the mountains and desert winds that had shaped his life. Far from the last person he had fallen in love with. From anyone he had fallen in love with. From anyone he loved. Wasnât he? How could he not feel the stab of betrayal pierce his heart, even as the adrenaline and joy still surged through his veins?
Not even six months ago, he had fought for a chance to stay in those mountains. Had planned and plotted with friends and lovers to find a way to continue on. But his parents were firm, and he found himself in a red brick house by the end of summer, deep in the heart of what felt like a different country. The life he had embraced, the people he loved and cared for, a thousand miles away. And he knew that thousand miles could growâŠnothing in a sixteen-year-oldâs life was permanent, and once you were out of sight, you were sure to be out of mind.
He knew the very first morning that he woke up in that red brick house that he would be forgottenâŠthat those connections would wear and fadeâŠthat the hope for that singular moment would be wasted.
And yet there, in the backseat of a used Toyota, he had found the moment. He had finally Found it, with only with these two young women in the coolest part of fall. This was what he had waited for his entire life, and it was with people he barely knew. People that he had been passed along to. But something connected them instantly. Not primal, but something that struck deeper to his core than he ever thought possible.
There in the Toyota, where in the truest act of teenage rebellion, he had snuck out of the house to share what would be remembered as a powerful, intimate memory, listening to music while hands and heads rested against the cold glass. The chill of November seemed to linger palpably in the air, creating a fog that wasnât a fog, just thick air dampening the lights of the high school parking lot.
The brand new bandâs brand new CD was jammed into the stereo. The melodies swelled and faded, almost in time with their combined heartbeats as the night edged closer to dawn.
It was just as the high voice coming from the speakers screamed about rationality that it happened.
The whir, like the flashbulb of a disposable camera charging.
The crack, like a skateboard breaking in half.
Every single light in the empty parking lot exploded in lightâŠwhat was a field of dying fireflies suddenly became rows and rows of supernovas.
Then the world went dark. An eerie silence only broken by the artificial big band music over the tinny speakers. And then came the gentle rain of broken glass and filaments falling to the ground. Every bulb and cover had shattered, the light they had contained having pushed the mass produced plastics past their limits.
The taller girl in the driverâs seat took a deep breath, reached over, and turned off the radio. The tone in her voice carried awe and excitement.
âAnnie?â whispered Marie.
âNo. You?â Annie whispered back. The shorter girl shook her head, the ends of her hair suddenly charged with the static of the atmosphere.
Marie and Annie turned, their movements making the leather seats creak and squeal. The grabbed at the edge of the headrests and stared at him with wide, gleeful eyes.
The boy was panting, drenched in cold sweat, and shifting his gaze between his hands and the girls. A slight purple aura crackled across his palms, alternating with his heart beat.
James had Tapped.
(It's been a very long time since I wrote something with enough interest to post for the world to see. By the world I mean...the six or seven of you who followed the link I posted. This is a quick prologue, an idea of a story that's bounced around for the past few months. I might go back to it. I might not. But it's out there now. James and Marie and Annie and whatever just happened are out there. Happy Halloween)
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