Toxic Us.

:C:

Marcus hung himself.

Whoever the fuck that was, he was hanging from a tree in Victoria Park this morning. A kid found him, a little girl. She got her older sister who had taken her here before the both of them would have to leave for school. She cried, she didn’t even stop crying when she rang the operator, her cries for help gurgles in the wind.

I heard that his knotting was something to be admired.

It got me thinking.

Whoever he was, it wasn’t a spur in the moment thing. It was a full proof plan, like mine had been. It turned out mine wasn’t successful. His was, he probably had written notes. Practicing the knots for months and learning how the noose would feel around his neck.

I leant against the brick wall, smoking another cigarette. Dozens of left over buts lay on the ground and half the box was almost gone. Breathing the last of the nicotine in, I dropped the burnt out smoke on the ground, crushing it with the heel of my sneakers.

Eve ran around the corner, her hair windblown. Upon our eyes making contact she was in my arms. My palms rested against her back. Her body felt nice against mine, the skin of our cheeks brushed. I didn’t object to holding her close, she wasn’t a touchy girl. Even when it came to us she didn’t go further than holding my hand.

 “You’re alive.” I heard her murmur, her quiet voice sending her hot breath against my neck.

It was understandable she would think it was me, I talked about it often. Too much even but I wouldn’t do that to her. Not without saying something like oh yeah and I’m jumping of the jetty out of town and letting myself drown, there’s a note under my pillow.

“Yeah”

“I thought it was, you didn’t pick up your phone and I thought it was” She hiccupped still clinging to my shoulders.

“I would’ve told you first”

“I would have stopped you”

“Eve, when I do, you’ll never be able to stop me”

She cried.

I smiled sorrowfully.

She didn’t let me go when we entered social studies.

Mike sat up the back, looking oddly out of place in the room of tight nit people I’d come to despise over the drawn out days. He was overgrown for the desk he sat at. He was muscular rather than my lanky figure. I sat next to him, sliding into my seat. Eve let go of my hand, the fiery warmth of her palm leaving mine cold.

She dragged her feet to the front, her head craned downwards. Her eyes boring into the linoleum specked flooring that had seen better days. She spoke to Miss Cree, the older women bringing the girl into a hug. I discerned the soiled cheeks of both women. Miss Cree wore jeans I didn’t no she even owned and a plain shirt. She was no longer Amelia Earhart  - the Lady Lindbergh who flew the skies. She was Mary Cree, a teacher.

Putting an arm around the downcast Eve’s shoulders, Miss Cree spoke her voice weak.

“Marcus died, he killed himself. I won’t say he took his own life because that is derogatory to his memory. He wanted to hang himself, and succeed in doing so. He did and Eve would like to shed some light on why” She nudged Eve forward with the crook of her elbow and I watched her hands tremor as she clutched college ruled paper between her agile fingers.

“I was the one who received Marcus’s essay, I think he would have liked me to tell you this in particular even though I will never know if he would really want me too, I might just be compensating but I know he would understand” She commanded the stricken youths, their faces twisted into unconceivable emotions as she spoke clear.

I let out a slow breath, glancing at Mike. His eyes hadn’t let Eve since she had spoken.

“Life is shit, living is shit. I’m not crazy. I’m not depressed. I don’t want to die, really. I’ve made mistakes that I can’t take back but I don’t resent any of them. I’m just sick of not being notice or understood. I can never be understood. No one would take the time to anyone and I’m over caring now, since caring mean’s you’ve grown to attached to the dream and now I can’t be attached to anything. I think about how the person who’s reading this will close this paper and want to cry themselves to sleep. It gets worse. People don’t even suspect it. I do. But they can’t see when they talk to me all I really want to do is leave. And if leaving means dying then I guess that’s good enough for me. So after reading this I will be dead. You can’t save me. I don’t deserved to be saved and don’t want too” She paused, looking at me swallowing deeply before continuing her voice quieter than before.

“And I’m sure as hell no one will miss me. I won’t miss life, so it’s a win win. Is it sad that I haven’t had alot of first’s? I’ve never been kissed let alone had sex. I haven’t even ridden in my Mom’s car without her or my baby sister there. I’ve never been free. So it is a really shitty life I’ve had. Can you blame me for it? Wanting to be free that is? No you can’t. So sorry for ruining the secret. But I’m dead” She couldn’t speak now, her voice just swallowed tears and pressured whispers. She walked down the aisle handing the paper Mike, by passing my desk as she stared at the ground

“Marcus Optrica” He said hushed.

Cries fell over the classroom.

Men and women screamed up at the florescent light ceiling, until they couldn’t.

I was the only dry eyed in the class.

“Who is it?” I asked, swallowing as I looked up at Eve.

“Cheese” Mike breathed.

“Holy fuck”

I held Eve.

She held me.

Mike gripped his fingers into the desk.

We all cried.

I didn’t cry for him, I cried for me.

The greedy dead shit I am.

I saw the look in Eve’s eyes, the sorrowful look of pure utter horror that something could occur right under her small slightly crooked nose.

I laughed through the hot tears, the poor bastard only got the feelings from the people who needed when he was going to get put six feet under.

“I need air” I heard Eve murmur.

I dragged her in tow from the class into the hall, her fingers seizing mine.

Miss Cree watched us go without objection.

“I need air Curtis!” She yelled this time fighting my grip. Her eyes wild and her hair disheveled in my fingers.

“I need air, I need air! Where is all the fucking air in this place?” She screamed her throat raspy I flinched when she swore. She never did at least aloud.

I looked in both directions, but not a soul was there in the forsaken high ceilings and shallow windowed hall.

I bit my lip till it bled.

“Eve – calm down” I spoke, placing my hands on her bony shoulders.

“No, I can’t fucking calm down Curtis. Have you seen the shit happening right in front of our eyes, and I can’t breathe” She paused sucking in the air, but not enough to keep her from cry out.

“I can’t breathe” She whispered “Why can’t I breathe? I didn’t even know him! What happens when you die Curtis? I’ll never be able to breathe! You need to help me breath Curtis, help me fucking breathe” She sobbed backing against the wall.

Her eyes were red and her cheeks stained.

I bought her face in my hands, putting her rosy lips to mine.

I wasn’t kissing her I was helping her breathe. Her lips flush against mine as I molded mine to hers, breathing deep not worrying weather it was romantic or not. She needed air and I sure as hell wasn't going to let her suffocate in the afflication weaking her body.

I pushed the air into her lungs, pulling away.

She pulled me back.