发信人: evilangelakasha(丽蒂雅)
整理人: roy_young(2001-04-10 13:05:53), 站内信件
|
Sometimes you don't expect things like these to
happen. Sometimes those things are just pit stops on
your way to someplace greater than where you are.
Other times, it's the end of the line.
It was hard for me to figure out when that time was
until I heard the sirens and the screech of tires all
around me. I used to have moments like these when I
was a child, but those were merely what my therapist
called 'momentary lapses of consciousness'. I would
imagine all these horrible things happening to me, car
accidents, injuries, deadly diseases, anything. My
sister was a die-hard Goth chick and she didn't help
me much with my death fascination. She encouraged it.
So, I grew into the darker version of her. I would
imagine the sirens and the wails of all my friends
when they discovered that I was dead. And I'd get a
rush off from it. Sick, I know. But that was my
natural high. Well, that and driving fast. Really,
really fast.
I always had thought that I was perfectly normal. I
had a normal family, well, as normal a middle class
family in Juneau, Alaska could be. I always found it
amazing that people from other parts of the United
States thought Juneau was so cold. It actually isn't
that bad with the sea breeze coming off the Pacific.
My mother was a science fiction columnist for an
Internet magazine and my father was a truck driver.
Since I was little I had wanted to get as far away
from Alaska as possible and I think my dad encouraged
this.
"There is a whole world out there, Charlotte. A big
world that you will see someday. And
I'll be there to show it to you." He would say.
He wasn't the one to show it to me, though. He died
when I was 12 in a car accident. That still did not
deter me from wanting to get away. My mother found it
a bit strange when she discovered that I liked speed,
no, that I craved speed, and that I still wanted to
leave after what had happened to my father. I am still
trying to figure out why it's that way but I can't.
Mainly because I don't want to.
I left Juneau when I was 17, right after graduation.
My sister had given me a car and my mother had given
me the keys. I think they thought of it as a way for
both of them to just say the hell with it and buy me
one present but each of them give half of it as a
gift. Either way, I got the car and the keys. I spent
half the night at a party with my friends, crying and
laughing and remembering. By 11 that night, I was
beginning to think someone had spiked the punch. By
that point, I was beyond caring. I had a slick new car
with some shiny silver keys that fit it perfectly. I
wanted to drive it so badly. I fell asleep before I
could though, which, in the end, turned out to be a
good thing. I could have died in a drunk driving
accident, and I can just imagine how my mother would
have handled it. The next morning, or afternoon, I
woke up. I had a massive headache, it felt as though
some dimwit had taken an icepick and decided to see
how far they could get it into my skull before it
cracked in half.
Lissa was up before 9 that morning, which I found
very, very hard to believe. She had cleaned the whole
place up, even the dirty dishes in the bathtub. I told
her thank you for letting me stay the night and walked
out the door with my keys in hand. I didn't think that
my leaving would be permanent, but it turned out to be
more permanent than I had expected.
I pulled into this shabby gas station in Washington a
few days later. I couldn't figure out how I had gotten
there and I thought that maybe it was so bad that I
blocked it out of my recent memories. I used to do
that a lot. I'd have these things happen to me and
pretend like they never did because they were too
close to my death fascination than I cared to admit. I
didn't want it to shatter my world. Not a chance. I
would just move on. I am not one of those people who
live in the past for the rest of my life. Things
happen and I just move on and try to learn from the
bull I've been through. I think that too many people
do that. It doesn't work because if you're dwelling on
the past then you don't see all the good that's in
front of you. Although, for me, it never seemed like
there was much good in front of me. Just those awful
'moments'.
I was greeted by a young, perhaps 15, girl who had
her long blonde hair up in pig tails and bright, and I
mean bright, pink lipstick on. She looked like she was
a cheerleader but judging by the amount of houses
around here, I didn't think she went to school at all.
I didn't know why she was here. It seemed a little odd
to me that she was working here. What the hell would a
15 year old girl do at a gas station in Washington?
The young attendant looked at me suspiciously. "What
do you want?" She said, blowing a bubble with bright
pink gum. I jumped when she popped it, loudly.
I stalled. "Umm, could you fill the tank?" I said
finally.
She frowned and pouted a little but filled my tank. I
was kind of afraid that she would put sugar in there
or something but she didn't. Maybe she wasn't a
complete ditz after all. Either way, her appearance
wasn't helping any. I sympathized with her situation,
I figured that she probably couldn't afford more than
what she had, so I tried to not let it get to me. Some
people could pull off wearing a man's flannel shirt
with a pair of blue jeans, and she was one of those
who could do it . However, that does not mean it was
tasteful and appealing.
"What is a Northern girl like you doing in a rural
town like this?" She asked me while she was filling
the tank. I scrunched my eyes and face to keep the sun
out of my eyes in the bright morning.
"Well, I don't know, really. I'm from Juan, Alaska. I
think I'm trying to get as far away as possible. I
don't have a clue as to how I ended up here." I said,
using my hand as a shield from the sun.
She smiled. Her teeth were a yellowish-golden, you
could tell she probably hadn't brushed in years. She
had an oddly friendly smile. "That's what most folks
say. They don't know how they got here but all that
counts is that they did. I couldn't care either way.
This town is all I know and all I want to know. The
world out there, well, it's not territory I want to
venture into. I ain't never seen a
Tele-whatchamacallit nor a movie. I just listen to my
daddy's old records. I learned about life that way."
I smiled and said, "Thanks for the gas. How much will
that be?"
She pursed her lips in thought. "Ummm, 10 bucks?" She
said and I handed her 15. "Keep the change." I said as
I got into my car. "Thanks ma'am! Have a nice trip!"
She waved wildly as she said this and I sped out onto
the highway.
About 100 miles past San Diego my car died. It just
stopped dead in the middle of the road and would not
start. I cursed it up and down, saying how dare it do
this to me. I thought I would be stuck there forever
until I started walking. About 5 miles down the road I
met a truck. Actually, I walked in front of it. I
think by this time I was beyond caring what where I
was going because I had gotten out of Juneau and
that's all that mattered. The truck stopped for me and
a door opened.
"Hey, babe, want a ride?" The man inside said. He
offered his hand, it looked like it was caked with old
chocolate, sweat, and remnants of a ham sandwich-with
mustard. I frowned.
I thought some words but I did not say them. I didn't
know this man, what if he had turned out to be
psychotic and had a gun? "Umm, no thanks. I need to
work on my tan." I said smugly and walked away. I felt
he trailed me for a while but got tired of the
monotony. A few minutes later an eighteen wheeler went
speeding past me, blowing dust into my eyes. I
couldn't see. I didn't know what to do.
My eyes stung with pain and fear. I was on a busy
highway in California. My odds of living for long,
alone and without supplies, were small and I knew
that this would be the end. But then my optimistic
mind went into gear and I thought that I was
exaggerating, which I was. I then wiped the dust and
tears out of my eyes just as an ambulance sped by. I
controlled the almost overwhelming urge to jump out in
front of it. My fascination with death and human
mortality was taking an ugly turn for me. Never had I
thought of doing something so cruel and sadistic to
the body that had treated me so kindly. I had always
believed that my brain was the driver of this, this
machine that was called the body and that I should
never destroy it. But somehow, somewhere deep inside,
I knew that my saturnine desires would overcome me one
day and that would be the end of whatever I was doing.
I could have jumped in front of that ambulance. I
could have.
I kept walking and walking until my mouth was a dry
desert and my feet were a bloody sea within my shoes.
I wanted to keep walking until they feel off, but my
feet were already leaving little stains of blood on
the hot tar and the sweat was already pouring off me
like a waterfall. My eyes couldn't stay open and
thoughts wouldn't go through my mind anymore. My mind
did not want to direct my feet. It had given up. It
wanted no more to do with this body, it wanted to move
on, it wanted to move far, far away from this torture
that I was bestowing upon it.
I remember looking up at the sky and seeing something
dark, silver, and evil. I'm not sure if evil is the
right word but it felt evil. It could have just been a
mirage in the desert heat or it could have been
something else. I don't know. It floated there,
somewhere between the sky and the sun, glimmering and
shining like the blade of a scalpel just before it is
plunged into the patients flesh. I could feel the
scalpel, even though it wasn't real, plunging deep
within my arms, then my legs, and then my chest. I
felt an eerie fear shoot through my chest and down to
my stomach, like my body was being ripped open only
the blood and gore were transparent. Almost as if I
didn't matter.
I fell backwards onto the pavement when the silver
shimmer came, and I was just staring at the
hallucination in the sky. I thought maybe it was
smiling at me and telling me that I had brought this
upon myself. But these are only the ramblings of a
dead girl, you see, so they hold no merit to you. You
don't understand what I am saying, perhaps someday you
will. As I watched the sun burn deep within my retinas
and the silver shine come closer and closer until it
overcame me.
I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling oddly safe in
this desert heat. I was too serene in too dangerous a
place. I got too lost in my thoughts and by the time I
opened my eyes to make that silver shimmer go away, it
overcame me. Instead of the shimmer in the sky, it was
the underbelly of a shiny, new car. I closed my eyes
again, knowing what happened. This was it. No more
second chances. And, man, did I want them ever so bad.
I had never wanted anything more than to live in my
life.
But the oddest thought crossed my mind, then. Now, I
was nothing. I was a Jane Doe found dead, run over in
the middle of a busy highway. In California, I am
nothing. No one would go to my funeral then, because
no one would know who I was. I am another dead girl
who doesn't have a name. So much for the dream of
being loved. Now, the only thing that loved me was the
silver. Silver shimmer was the last thing I saw. It
wasn't my boyfriend holding me and kissing me because
he didn't want me to leave him. It wasn't my mother
weeping over her slain child. It was a cold, silver
blanket that took me away.
I hate death, now. I refuse to cry, though. Because I
think I'm still alive. That time in between scared me
and confused me. Time in between and memories of
moments passed are all I have now. They always say
that you'll want to go back and change the way you did
things. Funny, but now I think they're right.
----
空之大主教奥薇莉雅
那是夏天的呼吸，黑夜的生命。
http://bj3.netsh.com/bbs/105633/ |
|