Killing Keats

Cooking the Raven

Imogen didn't have a book to burn. She had two pages printed off the internet. For once she was the last one at the park. Her printer had stuffed up causing a lot of cursing and Imogen running down the road determined not to be late. 

"What'cha got there?" Celia asked.

"The Raven," Imogen said. 

"I'm not happy about it but it's public domain," Richard said. 

"You're one of those 'Poe reflects the deep and dark parts of the mind that we prefer to remain locked up' aren't you?" Imogen said.

"Yeah," Richard said.

"You could argue the same for Shakespeare or Agatha Christie," Morrissey said.

"Aren't you a well read boy," Imogen said.

"Thank you. I need something else to do in my spare time."

Morrissey lay back down on the table. He picked his guitar up and started playing 'Ask' by the Smiths. He kept stumbling on certain chords and started from the beginning.

"Put the guitar down you're getting frustrated," Imogen said.

Morrissey sighed and placed it down on the table. "What do we hate about Poe?"

"I have a fear of going insane another fear is birds...well chickens but ravens scare the crap out of me too," Imogen said. 

"At what point does insanity begin and sanity end?" Richard said. 

"Don't play mind games with me!" Imogen said.

Thoughts like that made her anxious. It also triggered Celia as well but she'd never tell him that. She'd thought she was insane for years. The constant pain of thinking that something was wrong and the something would never get better. 

Morrissey was pretty sure he was half insane already.

Imogen shoved the paper into the barbecue trying to distract her from the thoughts. She was having a bad day. A comment like that wouldn't normally affect her so badly. She'd woken up anxious. She'd made a mistake. The opportunity to go on medication had been given by her counsellor and parents. She made the mistake of looking at the side effects of the anti anxiety pills. The side effects were enough to scare her. 

The stab in the gut feeling returned and everything blurred. She dropped down next to the barbecue. She propped her back up against the cool brick wall. She gathered her hair up, away from her neck. 

"Imogen are you alright?" Celia asked.

Why did that question make things worse? "I'm fine," she said. She hated how shaky her voice was. 

"No you're not," Morrissey said. 

"Shut up!" Imogen said. She put her hands over her ears and kept repeating 'shut up'. 

Morrissey climbed off his bench. He was going to help. It was a potentially triggering situation but Immy had done exactly the same thing for him.

Morrissey knelt down next to her. He put an arm on her shoulder. Her bare skin shuddered under his touch. 

"Immy look at me," he said, gently. She looked into his eyes before diverting them. "Immy you're safe. Just keep breathing.

"I'm going insane!"

"No you're not. It's okay to be anxious. I'm here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you." Imogen started to cry. Morrissey took her hand. "It's alright."

Imgoen started to wipe her tears away. Richard came over and handed her a tissue.

"I'm sorry," Imogen said.