I wished death on you...

She is crying. She is screaming at me.  She says that she doesn’t want to talk with me right now. She is telling me that she has cried for six hours straight. She is telling me that she can’t stop crying. She is telling me that that she locked herself in her bedroom and her dad, while a little tipsy, got concerned and broke down the door. She is telling me that I don’t understand how I much I hurt her. She is telling me that she never wants to see me again. She is telling me that she wishes David never introduced us. She is telling me that her mom said it was alright if she stayed home from school Monday because she couldn’t stop crying. She is saying that in a fit of what must constitute as rage she  ripped up the poster of James Dean in her bedroom because it reminded her of me.  She said that she took the copy of Monty Python and the Holy Grail   out into the driveway, got in the Firebird even though she only has her permit and rolled the over it fifteen times, one for every year of your pathetic life. She says that she hated everything you stand for. She says that she hates Jesus. She says that your trip to France or wherever you are trying to go is just downright pathetic.

She says that her Dad was right about you from the onset. She claims that she never should have broken up width David Best in the first place.

She says that if it weren't for Stay by Shakespeare’s’ Sister and Everyone Hurts by REM she would be dead.

She said that she never though about killing herself before you came along.

She said that she wished death on you.

 

Death.

                                                 ***

 

I tell her that I am sorry once again.

 

There are tears.

 

                                                                 ***

Whatever is inside of him is dead.  Whoever the person inside of him he used to be is no more.

                          

                                                             **

I speak with Dawn Michelle for three hours. I am elated. I can’t sit down. .I am running back and forth across the room where I was more or likely conceived.

 

I want to tell her how it feels like I am skinny dipping in the pacific ocean of Language.

 

I want to tell her how I am peeling back the narrative potency of vowels. How for the first time all year I am feeling confident.

 

I want to tell her that it almost doesn’t matter if I win the trip that takes me somewhere because I am taking the audience somewhere they have never been before.

 

Dawn is saying yeah alot. She tells me that she is going to go outside and smoke but that she needs to  be quiet so that her parents don’t hear her. I ask her how much she smokes.

 

About a half-pack a day.

 

She tells me.

 

She tells me she is thinking about calling it quits after speech season ends.

 

 

                                                ***

 

I wished death on you.

 

Renae reminds me again.

 

Death.

 

When she says the word WISH I see the cover of the Cure’s latest album.