The Magician's Assistant

[14] Start of Senior Year

          “James!” I screamed, praying that he could see me. I dropped the dishes that were in my hands, causing them to shatter against the kitchen floor.

          Relief consumed his features, replacing the frustration. “Finally, you can see me,” he breathed, “I don’t know how long this’ll last. I’m having some troubles over on my end,” he mumbled.

          “Are you alright?” I demanded.

          That was the most important question.

          “No, not really,” he admitted, “Things are happening and I’m in a lot of trouble.”

          “What can I do?” I reached my hands out to touch him, feeling the thick fog he was made of. I wished he wasn’t dead. I wished he was a regular, living, and breathing person that I could hang out with and listen to music with. I wanted a best friend that could tell me everything. A best friend that could be safe from tings I couldn’t protect him from.

          James was the best friend I could ever ask for, but there were some things that we could never do. He made me laugh when I wanted to cry and was always there for me. I couldn’t lose him and I’d put up with anything to keep him. Even if our friendship was completely dysfunctional.

          “James?”

          He hadn’t responded right away.

          “I’m going to disappear for a while, but I’m always here, alright?”

          “No – James, wait a second! Don’t leave yet, I’m worried!” I screamed, clutching at his fading body.

          “Don’t worry,” he frowned sadly. “This was bound to happen anyways. I’ll be back. This isn’t permanent, I promise. I’ll fix it!”

          “James, stop! I need you to explain –“

          He vanished, leaving me a complete disaster in the kitchen. I struggled to not let a sob escape, pressing my fist against my mouth. I kicked the cracked plates on the ground in anger, stomping on them until my legs ached.

          Positive that I was a mess, I stopped my tantrum of emotions. “James! Come back, please! I need your help!

          Nothing.

          “Whatever,” I sniffed, as if I didn’t care.

          “Hun, who are you talking to?” my mother yelled from upstairs.

          “Myself!” I yelled back, huffing.

          “Have a great first day of school, Rae Rae!” my dad yelled from their bedroom upstairs.

          “Thanks,” I shouted in return.

          I snatched my keys off of the hook by the front door and stomped my way out of the house, a pencil in tow. I slammed the door shut behind me, rattling the paintings on the wall inside.

          What an absolutely, positively, wonderful way to start the day. Frustration was practically rolling off me in waves.

          I slammed the door to my truck shut, starting it up as soon as I had sat down. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I knew that it was Jessica. She was probably having a wardrobe malfunction and needed my assistance. Since I was already reversing out of my driveway, I didn’t check it.