You mean…
Bonding is a form of possession.
People wanting to be around other people, and because they want to be around those people, they sometimes start talking like them, start acting like them, and they even start dressing like them.
Other people look to be possessed.
That… actually makes a lot of sense. I mean, yeah. Yeah… that does make a lot of sense. It’s sort of the same. But then it’s also very different. But no two things are the same, yeah. And then I’m kind of focused now on what’s happening next. I, well…
You go to school.
I don’t want to go to school. Can’t believe Halverson hasn’t just, like, suspended me again for, you know, “looking like shit.” That’s what everyone’s saying, even if they aren’t actually saying it. And it kind of is true; I just can’t stand being around people right now. I get exhausted. Dizzy. Just thinking about all the stuff I have to do, how I have to, you know, really try, it’s hard to stomach. It’s really hard to handle.
I’ll go to school.
You can go, but I’m not.
I’ll go.
Fine, that’s fine. Just be ready for all that usual stuff.
I’ll be fine.
But yeah, you’ll be, you know, taking me with you.
No.
I don’t get it — what do you mean?
Wait in the tunnel.
But you’re going to be there, as me.
When I am you, you are not.
I thought we were both using the name Hunter.
Hunter is Hunter. Sometimes Hunter isn’t Hunter.
So I’ll stay at Falter?
Stay. You will know everything, precisely when it happens.
That’s wild. I mean, you know how I feel about it. It’s… strange, I mean, yeah. Okay, I’m rambling. But it’s strange, right?
It is difficult at first.
I’ll get used to it?
Soon there will be no difference.
What if I go along with you?
Then it will be much like what has occurred previously.
If I don’t…
You wait where there is no need to worry. I am not the same.
Yeah, that’s true. I… trust you. Everyone else thinks I’m crazy for trusting you, but I mean, you got to go with your instincts, right?
Correct.
Okay. Okay. I’ll stay. I’m not going back to school. I don’t even want to see their faces. I just want to, like, stay in bed and chill.
Stay in bed. Watch it on video.
Yeah, I’ll watch it on video.
Do you trust me?
I trust you.
Friends?
Yeah, man, we’re friends. It’s pretty obvious that we are. Not that anyone else will ever get it.
11
I WALK TO SCHOOL SO THAT I MAY GET USED TO THIS body, these legs, this face, the sun. I walk to school and I wait where the locker reads “34.” This is your locker. This is my locker. There are plenty of students. There are plenty of opportunities. I walked to school, and because I did, there is an odor, a stench that barely registers to those here. But they smell it.
I am going to wait until that bell rings. The bell will ring, and I will begin with your day.
I am in your head.
I am plenty, and no, I am not exhausted.
I am your friend, you will see. This will be proof.
You watch as it happens.
The video feed shall be plenty.
It shall be plenty for you.
It shall be plenty of proof that I seek nothing if not the solution to the loneliness that I have felt for as long as I have learned the nature of loneliness.
Your first period is subdued. You sit in the back, I assume, given what you’ve left me. Yet I am concerned for there is a lot missing — details, such as names of acquaintances and the name of the instructor staring me down.
You see, I am not sitting. I am not sitting because I am not sure if you sit in the back or the front.
The instructor beckons: “Please, Mr. Warden.”
I know you’ll enjoy this, so I say, “Do you want to know how you’ll die?”
“Excuse me?”
The humor that it causes, it’s wonderful, isn’t it? Such humor, such fear in their faces.
Not to be worried.
The instructor will select not to acknowledge what has been said. The instructor will entertain the idea of Mr. Warden being sent to the principal’s office. First period, and I have already caused some calamity.
How intriguing.
The principal lives in a routine that has shut his mind off from the more curious concepts in life.
What a waste, I must say.
What a supreme waste of life. Halverson is his name, and he returns home to the same dinners, the same wines, the same few books before retiring for the night in his cushy yet unfeeling bed. There he is, your principal.
“Frankly,” he begins, but as you already know, nothing else is needed.
“Frankly” this.
“Frankly” that.
You are given a warning. “Frankly” Halverson is quite concerned.
He listens to my replies. He notices a change.
My voice is your voice. Soon we will speak the same. Friend, you see it as much as I have seen it. Much like you have said, there is worry, misplaced worry. They see the pale skin, the marks that I have made, the bad breath, the bloodshot eyes. The thinning hair and missing eyelashes.
Indeed, you have seen better days.
A lot of energy placed in a body such as this can achieve only so much. Soon we will find escape.
I find escape from the principal’s office. Given a warning, and it’s off to third period. Must I be responsible for missing the second period if Halverson kept you with his “frankly” talk for a whole hour? Regardless, I walk as best as I’ve been able to surmise from watching you and I return to class. During this class, I remain silent like the other students, studying from a book I have no interest in reading.
What is this subject?
I am beginning to understand why you fear the monotony of school. I am also learning quickly of how little others understand about what you are going through. They treat me like an affliction. They treat me as a curse. They treat me as a behemoth.
I encourage you to look it up. “Behemoth.”
I am not a behemoth.
“Demon” is as close to getting right what I am. But so many seek the visual, what I look like, but I can only show you based on what I’m becoming. I look so much like you because of the events that have transpired where I have been able to influence and help.
The day wears on with this same undercurrent of confusion from others. They whisper words involving your demise. They whisper gossip about the breakup. They judge you based on how you look. They judge you based on the way I walk.
During lunch, I sit with Brad, who sits to the side, unwilling to say much of anything to me. I speak to him to get some practice. There is much to learn from speaking using this voice.
I inquire, “Brad, how is it that you haven’t gotten laid yet?”
Yet you aren’t supposed to know this. It catches him off guard.
There it is, once again, confusion and fear. You might be worried but I wouldn’t be concerned. Let us have some fun then.
“Bro, what the hell you talking about?”
Brad attempts to cover up the embarrassment that bubbles up from beneath his practiced demeanor.
“You are still a virgin,” I speak in an authoritative voice. I speak much like any of the instructors might. However, I assume it comes off much different from what I had wanted.
This will take some time. It will require your help too. As mutual friends, I assume we will both learn to operate the social ins and outs with relative ease.
Brad is uncomfortable.
Others are uncomfortable.
Perhaps this is a good moment to leave.
I do. I leave the table, let that bit of information hang bold and true, for it is worth remembering that even if it was I that made them feel so awkward and perhaps afraid, they still assume that it is you they are speaking to.