Chapter 4

Jasper’s picture rests in a frame with his paw print beside it and in front of them both is his urn that looks like an old tin can painted white with blue flowers and vines. I’ll probably make him a better one eventually, but for now I’m glad to have him back. It’s like he never got sick in the first place. He hunches his back and runs around my room like he has never seen the light of day. All his favorite toys are stashed under my bed and the clothes in my drawers have been turned into his own personal nest, just like the good ol’ days. I slide my hand across the floor for Jasper to come running towards me and quickly retreat under the bed with all his toys. I can hear him dooking and wrestling with something with a bell. 

My phone vibrates on the nightstand and I reach over to grab it but drop it on the floor instead. Jasper comes running and latches onto the casing before dragging it under the bed along with everything else he thinks belongs to him. I try to reach it but I’m not fast enough and it disappears into the void. I roll onto my belly and I’m almost scared of what I’m going to find under here, but I don’t see or feel anything. It should be just toys, clothes that have been turned into beds, and anything else rubber and squishy Jasper has been able to find, but all I feel is carpet. I reach my hand under as far as my arm can stretch and my fingers get a few ghostly nips before I feel my phone and pull it out. Some ghosts can touch you, and I guess Jasper is one of them for whatever reason. I know whenever Carrie tries she goes right through me. They really are all so different but I have yet to figure out what sets them apart. 

I check my phone and there’s a message from Bradley saying only a single word: “Crisis.” 

“What have you done?” I reply and his next message comes almost instantly. Good.

“Nothing yet,” he says in one. “I’m not okay,” reads the other. 

“Where are you?” 

“I’m walking to the bus stop right now.” 

“Okay, wait there. I’m on my way.” 

I put my phone in my pocket, throw on a hoodie, and slide on my shoes before dropping to my stomach again and looking under the bed. I can see Jasper’s eyes glowing yellow through the darkness. “I’ll be right back buddy,” I promise and head out. 

It’s late, almost midnight, and my mom got home a little bit ago so I hope she’s already asleep. I don’t see her in the living room but light pokes out from under the door and I can hear the TV coming from her room. I’m as quiet as possible as I sneak by and slide myself out of the apartment.

It’s dark and pouring and I can barely see a thing except when the lightning strikes. It’s so cold I can see my breath and the first thing I do is accidentally step in a puddle that soaks my socks. It sucks, but I’m not turning back. I flip my hood over my head and stuff my hands in my pockets as I walk. The thunder is so loud it causes my ears to ring as it shakes the entire sky.  

The bus stop is a halfway point we set up years ago and I’ve gone there so many times I can get there with my eyes closed, so it doesn’t matter how dark and rainy it is, I’ll get there.

Finally as I get closer I see the street lights, and sitting on the bench is Bradley. There’s a glass covering overhead, but I can see that he’s soaked. He wears a red hoodie and black soccer shorts with high socks and his afro is dripping water as he hangs his head. 

I go under the awning with him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says back and barely looks at me. 

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“That makes one of us.” 

“Did something happen?”

He shakes his head. “Just can’t sleep. I can never sleep these days. I just feel like nothing. Like sometimes I don’t even know who I am. I’m just...empty.” 

“That sucks,” is all I say, and sometimes that’s all you need to say. Not everyone needs to be told solutions or to be positive. Sometimes you just need to be told something sucks, because it does. “Do you want to go home?” 

He nods and presses his tongue to his cheek. “I just can’t be alone right now.”

“You don’t have to be. Come on, I’ll come with you. You need some sleep.”

Finally, he looks at me. “Why are you so nice to me?” 

“Because you’re my friend.” 

He snickers. “Ha! You’re a weird little dude.” He stands and starts walking and I follow behind. Rain pelts down on us like bullets as we walk in silence. He walks ahead of me, head down and hands in pockets. Water splashes with every step we take and my feet are swimming in my shoes. 

Bradley and his dad moved into a townhouse after leaving Praxton Hills and have stayed there ever since while my mom and I had to move around a lot before settling at Southbank. I’m glad they were able to find a new home so quickly. After everything they went through the last thing they needed was to be homeless. If that had happened, I don’t think Bradley would have lasted this long.

The porchlight shoots on when we take the first step to the patio and Bradly opens the door. We kick off our soaking wet shoes and head right to the first bedroom up the stairs. It’s dark, but Bradly doesn’t turn on the light as he strips and takes something dry out of the closet for himself. Finally, he flips on the desk lamp by his bed and the tips of his curls continue to drip. 

I’m still soaked and trying to hide my shaking. My hoodie clings to my body and that just makes it worse. I’d be better off naked at this point. My toes are numb and I wouldn’t be surprised if my phone is broken in my pocket right now. 

Observe, describe, participate. There’s not as much in Bradley’s room as there is in Q’s. Mostly I think it’s because not all of Bradley made it out of Praxton Hills that night. Like my mom, he changed and empty is a good way to describe it. But, of course he did. We were kids. Everyone changes growing up, but there’s no doubt in my mind that this is not who Bradley was always meant to be. Sometimes it feels like he’s on autopilot while who he was is just lost somewhere deep in that void. I keep looking for those yellow eyes to shine through the darkness, but when I look at him in the eyes all I see is darkness itself. He’s right. He can’t be alone right now. 

Bradley sits on the edge of his bed and holds his head in his hands. Sometimes it feels like he has something to say then nothing comes out. The only thing I can hear is the gentle hum of the heater. I wish it was on higher. 

Bradley stands up and goes into the attached bathroom. A light flickers on then quickly flickers off when he comes back out with a towel in each hand. One he tosses on top of his mane and the other he uses to wipe my face. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Don’t be,” I tell him.

“You’re soaked because of me.” 

“It’s okay. I’d rather us be soaked than dead.” 

Water drips from my bangs and he wipes that too. “Why?” he finally asks. “Don’t you think the others are better off?” 

I’m silent for a moment. “I’m not sure,” is the only answer I ever seem to have for this subject. I just don’t know. There’s no way to know. Jasper seems happy and Carrie seems happy, but what about Miss Swanson? She’s nothing. Can that really be described as happy? 

“To be nothing...man, that just sounds like the dream,” he says. 

“It sounds terrifying.” 

“Nah. It’s just like being asleep.” 

“I’m scared when I sleep.”

Bradley pauses and rubs the bridge of his nose.. “Yeah, me too. I’m just so tired.” 

“Go to sleep. I won’t leave you.”

He rubs his hair with the towel one last time before throwing it to the ground and crawling into bed. He doesn’t say anything else as he flips off the light and rolls over to face the wall. 

I sit on the floor, my soaked clothes dripping to the carpet. I pull my knees to my chest and hold myself as my body continues to shake. It’s so cold, but I won’t leave him alone. I’m so tired I want to close my eyes, but every time I do they shoot open and all I see is the darkness. There cannot be dark without light, so all we have to do is wait. And that’s what I do. I wait. And wait. And wait. 

It’s five in the morning and school starts in three hours. Bradley has been fast asleep for hours and stayed that way. He tossed and turned every now and then but would return to snoring shortly thereafter. He survived one more night, and that’s the most anyone can ask of him right now. 

The sun is still nowhere to be seen and the rain has lessened to a sprinkle but it feels even colder now than it did before without the heat of lightning. I can still see my breath and some of the water on the ground has started to freeze. Winter sure is choosing to come early this year. It won’t be long until there’s snow, but at least I actually like the snow. I mostly look forward to the crunching under my shoes rather than the splashing with every step. 

Finally, I make it home and the first thing I do is change into something dry and warm. I look around for Jasper, but he’s nowhere to be seen. He’s either sleeping so I can’t see the glow of his eyes through the dark or he’s gone away for the day. I still don’t know where they go or why they leave. Carrie says she never leaves, but I know she’s not always here. It’s a mystery that even the dead can’t seem to solve.

I crawl into my bed and under the covers and I have to make every second last before I have to get up again. I close my eyes and the next thing I know my alarm is blaring in my ear. It’s earth shattering and causes me to tremble to my core. I’ve woken up to this sound so many times that it makes me sick to my stomach. I want nothing more than to turn it off so I turn it to snooze and the next thing I know it’s ringing again. 

This time, I have no choice but to get up. I throw on some jeans and a different black hoodie and after getting ready I go out to the kitchen where my mom is standing behind the counter. Her hair is tied back in a messy bun and she’s wearing a brace on her right wrist. “Good morning, Ashley,” she says. I don’t understand how she can be such a morning person. She didn’t used to be, but I guess almost dying gives you a new lease on life, whether for the best or the worst. “Stay up too late?” 

I rub my eyes. “Couldn’t fall asleep.” 

“Aw, I’m sorry. I packed your lunch for you.” 

“Thanks Mom. I love you.” I swipe the paper bag off the counter and make my way towards what I can only imagine as an unbearable day at school. And shortly after getting there, I’m proven right.

My locker is down the eastern hall and right past the boys locker room, AKA my worst nightmare. The jocks with nothing better to do stand there every morning as they wait for the bell and I keep my head low as I pass by. I stare at my feet but the next thing I know they come to a stop. Someone is holding on to my backpack so tight it feels like it’s going to rip from my shoulder. 

“Where you going Ashley,” says Trent. He always puts emphasis on my name like he’s making fun of me and that’s not literally my name.  There’s four of them, seniors, and they just stand there and watch, laughing: Trent, Dylan, Christian, and... Bradley. 

Dylan steps in front of me. “What’s in the bag?” he asks and smacks it from my hand. It falls to the floor and a water bottle comes rolling out. He kicks it through the hall while other kids look and laugh. 

Christian steps forward and looks at the paper bag on the floor then looks at me. He looks at the bag one more time before stomping it flat under his cowboy boots. The other boys laugh. “Aw, I’m sorry. Did your mommy make that for you?” 

“Aw, the poor little baby girl,” mocks Dylan. 

Trent finally lets go of my backpack, but only after shoving me to the ground. I’m at Christian’s boot, and I brace myself as it kicks me in the stomach. 

“Hey, wait. Stop,” says Trent. “You’re hurting his safe space.” The others laugh and even high five him like he doesn’t make that same joke every week. But we all already know that guys like this are only good for the same few jokes. Safe spaces, identify as an attack helicopter, and slurs. 

“I know where he’ll be safe,” says Christian and he and Dylan lift me from my feet. I try to struggle the best I can but they kick open the door to the locker room and shove me inside. They drop me to my feet and shove me against the wall. 

Dylan leans in close and presses my face against the bricks. I can barely breathe as he and the others close in. “If you want to be a boy so bad then whip it out. Come on, pee standing up like a man.” 

They step away and I can finally catch my breath. “Come on, whip it out,” they keep saying until finally I’m saved by the morning bell. 

“Pathetic,” Christian spits before leaving with the others.

“Why do you guys want to see him naked so bad? Bunch of weirdos,” Bradley finally says. 

“Oh, here comes Bradley the white knight to save his little girlfriend. King of the Simps.” 

“Really? You’re gonna look at me and call me a white knight?”

“I just call it like I see it.” 

“No, you’re just an idiot. You all are. Seriously, get some hobbies. Find something better to do than picking on some sophomore.” 

Funny how they’re not so tough when their opponent is their size. Neither of the three boys have anything else to say before taking their leave from the locker room. Christian does give my backpack one last kick before leaving though. 

Now, it’s only me and Bradley. “I’m really sorry man. I tried to keep them away from your locker.” 

“It’s fine,” I say.

“No, it’s not fine. I’m going to talk to Coach about them, okay? And I mean it this time. Nobody likes some cliché a*s bullies.” 

I’ve heard this speech before and I know I’ll hear it again. Right now I’m just so tired. I want to slump in one of these stalls and fall asleep, but I know if I don’t show up to class they’ll call my mom again and that’s the last thing I want to add to an already horrible day. She’s been in a good mood lately and I would like to keep it that way. I hope today can get better; I just don’t know how. And I don’t have anything else to say to Bradley so I pick up my things and leave the locker room.

My bagged lunch is on the floor completely smooshed and covered with the dirty tracks of feet. I feel bad when they ruin my lunch not just for myself, but for my mom too. She wakes up early to be nice and the bullies have to go and ruin everything. It would be nice if Bradley could do more to control his friends--or not be friends with them at all--but I could never ask anyone else to go through this s**t with bullies on a daily basis. We’re all just doing what we can to survive this hell hole and some having it easier than others is just a fact of life. Some guys are born tall, dark, and handsome while others are born short and named Ashley.

But like every other day, I survive and eventually make it home. Finally, I get to go to sleep and have Jasper curled at my side. Maybe things aren’t so bad after all.