I know it was a stupid thing to do. Stupid, stupid! Like a dumb sheep, expecting only to be shorn...!
His emails seemed so nice, and he even read my poem -- he said it was beautiful, just like me...!
At first I didn't want to meet in person, but it seemed like he was scared to do it, too, which made me feel it HAD to be safe. His nervousness was so sweet, I felt like maybe this WAS a Connection...
So we met at Starbucks, because how can anything bad happen at a Starbucks? He asked me what I wanted, and ordered it for me -- he even remembered that I had mentioned on one of my WebCam shows that I like extra caramel on my Macchiato...!
We talked about movies and my WebCam show and poetry and whether dreams mean anything; he said he really believes dreams instruct your Life, and I told him I felt exactly the same! He also said he gets shy easily, and sometimes had to look away from the computer when I took my clothes off -- that was so adorable...!
Then he said how he remembered that I once had mentioned that I like ducks, and said we should go out to the Lake and feed the ducks -- there are few things better than seeing happy ducks, he said -- and he even had bread in the car...
I hesitated -- I knew better, I KNEW BETTER -- but I climbed into his White Van and we headed out to the Lake, except we passed the exit, and he explained he was just following a sneaky path to the far end of the Lake where it was MUCH more beautiful...
We fed the Ducks until the bread ran out. It WAS like a Dream: the sunshine, the clear blue sky except for one little puffy white cloud. He said he had more bread in the back of the van, and that we should go get it. So we did, except he then pushed me -- hard -- into the back of the van, and slammed the door shut, locking me inside. I KNEW I knew better, dammit...
We drove for awhile, and I could hear his stereo through the wall behind the front seats; Neil Diamond -- my Mom LOVES Neil Diamond --, and he was singing along, like he didn't have a care in the World...
"Take my hand in yours,
Walk with me this day
In my heart I know, I will never stray
Halle, halle, halle, halle
Halle, halle, halle, halle
It's Love, Brother Love, say
Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show
Pack up the babies
And grab the old ladies and ev'ryone goes..."
I remember us driving over a rough road, and then slowing to a stop. I could hear him crunching along the ground as he walked to the back of the van. I knew this was my chance -- I had to run, to run far, fast, faster than I had ever run before. But when he opened the door he immediately hit me in the head with a tire iron and I blacked out...
Now I am lying in the dirt at the foot of a big tree: looking up, I can see the blue sky through the tangle of branches. I am bleeding, bleeding from so many stab wounds on my chest and legs, I don't remember even feeling them. I know this is it: I am going to bleed out any time now, I feel myself get weaker and weaker, and it is harder and harder to breathe...
He is sitting cross-legged on the ground a few feet away from me, just watching. I feel like I should be scared, but I realize it is too late to be scared. Stupid, stupid...
Then he says that, after I die, he is going to fuck me in the ass because HE gets to decide how and when things end. I don't want to be raped, even if I'm already dead: I'm not sure if that makes sense...
I hope my parents don't find out about my WebCam Show, but they probably will: it will break their hearts. I wish I could tell them that I was sorry, that it was a stupid thing to do, but I know I will never have the chance: God, it sucks to die Sad...
Maybe they'll read my poems, at least. Maybe a LOT of people will read my poems, now. Wouldn't that be funny? I have to die for people to read my poems? Maybe I'll even become famous, a talented poet tragically cut short before her best work could be done. I doubt it. But I'm there: I am there in the poems. I hope they find me...
I am Laslo.
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