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Companion piece to TomorrowPolyphonic Wizard Ver 2.0
Gone
by J
He’s Dead. I don't believe it. I hadn't really thought it was possible. Somehow I always expected him to be there, Teaching me. Guiding me. Nobody ever expects his or her hero to die. I guess that's what he was to me. A Hero. When I was in the Centre he was someone to look up to, to aspire to be. When I escaped he was someone to hate, to blame. But recently he'd gone back into the roll of teacher and friend. It’s got to be a trap. This may be below Parker but...not Lyle. It’s a trap. He can't be dead.
*************
I'm sitting now, in the back row of some church, watching the preacher that didn't even know him go on about what a great man he was...oh God. He is dead. I feel sick. I keep the calm exterior on the outside but inside, I think I'm going to retch.
Broots sits in the front row. He’s crying into his sleeve. I wish I could cry. But if I do my make-up might run, and the sweepers positioned around the funeral would recognize me. I can't go back.
I think Sydney was the reason I stayed out of the Centre for so long. Not to say that me being a genius didn't help, but Sydney was one the main forced that wanted to keep me alive.
Life. Death. I've never been a God fearing man. When your raised in hell you loose that thought there is actually someone that cares. Theres a painting on the wall, right above where Syds being laid out. A picture of the rapture-Jesus in his last dying moments. For some reason I can't stop staring at it. I could be the genius and say that maybe that’s Sydney's death is a realization of my own mortality. Maybe it is. But the eyes. That’s what I'm looking at. The eyes in the painting. They don't look forgiving, or all knowing. They’re afraid. Afraid that that there dying. All alone.
I wish I could cry. There are not many people here. Broots, a few older men and women I don't know, my guess is that there friends. And Miss Parker. I didn't think the Ice Queen could cry. You wouldn't know it unless you looked carefully at her. The dark sunglasses make it hard to tell. But I can tell. My Friend tells me that Sydney and Miss Parker had been working together. Developing her inner sense. That they had gotten close.
I never knew Sydney was catholic. Its not like I was allowed religion. But its something you'd think I'd know. Right? Rite. Did he get his last rites? It happened so fast. Now that I look at Miss Parker I can see the bandage on her arm. She was a few feet away when the car exploded. I wonder who did it. It’s not like theres a lack of suspects.... I’ll figure it out eventually. And when I do, I'll kill them. End of story.
I want to cry. And I will. But not here. Here I watch-soak it all in. I'll come back later. When there aren’t any sweepers. No Centre. I wouldn’t let them catch me. I'll not go back. Sydney wouldn't want me to go back.
I should have been there. I should have protected him. I could have. But instead I was brooding in my loft. I have a loft now. In New York. Nina and were living there. She left me. That’s why I was brooding. There was a fight, she said something bad about Ethan, I yelled at her. She left. I think Miss Parkers looking at me. I can't be sure but...yeah she is. She’s staring straight at me. Shit. She’s coming over. There’s nowhere to run. I'm so dead.
"Did you know Sydney..?” she doesn’t recognize me....HA!
"Ja, ve vernt very close.", my padding shifts. I'm dressed like an old man. Kind of like Santa Claus, with a German accent. "Are you iz daw-tar?"
She chuckles. I might make it out of here alive. "He was like a father, but no." She smiles at me. I look at my watch for effect "Excuse me." I turn to leave, she grabs my wrist. I’m going to die. She’s going to shove her heel up my ass.
"I didn't catch your name...."
"Swartz. Mikhail Swartz."
"You knew Sydney from the camps?"
"Ja." She still doesn’t know its me. Ha! I'm going to laugh about this for years! She’s leaning in close.... Her eyes turning sensual. I knew she likes older men but I look like I could be her grandfather.
" And Jarod.... your a horrible liar."
Shit. I’m Dead. Sydney I’m coming to join you.
***
Yawn. It’s morning. I’m in Parkers bed. I’m naked and in Parkers bed. She’s sleeping soundly on my chest. She doesn’t look intimidating now. She looks like an angel. My angel. Oh my God. Do I love her? Do I want to love her? Yes. A million times yes.
I’m gone by the time she wakes up. A rose lying on the pillow next to her. And a note.
Parker~
“ I love you.”
~J
Companion piece to TomorrowPolyphonic Wizard Ver 2.0
Gone
by J
He’s Dead. I don't believe it. I hadn't really thought it was possible. Somehow I always expected him to be there, Teaching me. Guiding me. Nobody ever expects his or her hero to die. I guess that's what he was to me. A Hero. When I was in the Centre he was someone to look up to, to aspire to be. When I escaped he was someone to hate, to blame. But recently he'd gone back into the roll of teacher and friend. It’s got to be a trap. This may be below Parker but...not Lyle. It’s a trap. He can't be dead.
*************
I'm sitting now, in the back row of some church, watching the preacher that didn't even know him go on about what a great man he was...oh God. He is dead. I feel sick. I keep the calm exterior on the outside but inside, I think I'm going to retch.
Broots sits in the front row. He’s crying into his sleeve. I wish I could cry. But if I do my make-up might run, and the sweepers positioned around the funeral would recognize me. I can't go back.
I think Sydney was the reason I stayed out of the Centre for so long. Not to say that me being a genius didn't help, but Sydney was one the main forced that wanted to keep me alive.
Life. Death. I've never been a God fearing man. When your raised in hell you loose that thought there is actually someone that cares. Theres a painting on the wall, right above where Syds being laid out. A picture of the rapture-Jesus in his last dying moments. For some reason I can't stop staring at it. I could be the genius and say that maybe that’s Sydney's death is a realization of my own mortality. Maybe it is. But the eyes. That’s what I'm looking at. The eyes in the painting. They don't look forgiving, or all knowing. They’re afraid. Afraid that that there dying. All alone.
I wish I could cry. There are not many people here. Broots, a few older men and women I don't know, my guess is that there friends. And Miss Parker. I didn't think the Ice Queen could cry. You wouldn't know it unless you looked carefully at her. The dark sunglasses make it hard to tell. But I can tell. My Friend tells me that Sydney and Miss Parker had been working together. Developing her inner sense. That they had gotten close.
I never knew Sydney was catholic. Its not like I was allowed religion. But its something you'd think I'd know. Right? Rite. Did he get his last rites? It happened so fast. Now that I look at Miss Parker I can see the bandage on her arm. She was a few feet away when the car exploded. I wonder who did it. It’s not like theres a lack of suspects.... I’ll figure it out eventually. And when I do, I'll kill them. End of story.
I want to cry. And I will. But not here. Here I watch-soak it all in. I'll come back later. When there aren’t any sweepers. No Centre. I wouldn’t let them catch me. I'll not go back. Sydney wouldn't want me to go back.
I should have been there. I should have protected him. I could have. But instead I was brooding in my loft. I have a loft now. In New York. Nina and were living there. She left me. That’s why I was brooding. There was a fight, she said something bad about Ethan, I yelled at her. She left. I think Miss Parkers looking at me. I can't be sure but...yeah she is. She’s staring straight at me. Shit. She’s coming over. There’s nowhere to run. I'm so dead.
"Did you know Sydney..?” she doesn’t recognize me....HA!
"Ja, ve vernt very close.", my padding shifts. I'm dressed like an old man. Kind of like Santa Claus, with a German accent. "Are you iz daw-tar?"
She chuckles. I might make it out of here alive. "He was like a father, but no." She smiles at me. I look at my watch for effect "Excuse me." I turn to leave, she grabs my wrist. I’m going to die. She’s going to shove her heel up my ass.
"I didn't catch your name...."
"Swartz. Mikhail Swartz."
"You knew Sydney from the camps?"
"Ja." She still doesn’t know its me. Ha! I'm going to laugh about this for years! She’s leaning in close.... Her eyes turning sensual. I knew she likes older men but I look like I could be her grandfather.
" And Jarod.... your a horrible liar."
Shit. I’m Dead. Sydney I’m coming to join you.
***
Yawn. It’s morning. I’m in Parkers bed. I’m naked and in Parkers bed. She’s sleeping soundly on my chest. She doesn’t look intimidating now. She looks like an angel. My angel. Oh my God. Do I love her? Do I want to love her? Yes. A million times yes.
I’m gone by the time she wakes up. A rose lying on the pillow next to her. And a note.
Parker~
“ I love you.”
~J
