Chapter Text
-A THOUSAND LEAVES (Disc 1)-
...
I spy with my little eye...
An arrow.
Go right.
Then left.
Follow this street.
Be cautious on the crosswalk.
Do not hurry. You'll be back soon.
Halfway there, there is a lot of green. It seems that with every step I take, a garden blossoming with happiness grows behind me.
This is the grove that leads to where I live. Right there, it's the house dad and mom built.
I forgot to catch the bus, and I just hope I didn't forget my house keys. I must be eight years old and I still make these kinds of mistakes. I only want my parents not to find out about this, because if they do, they'll berate me again for being too careless.
Once I get home, nobody is here. Good thing I didn't forget my keys.
I like details. As I open the door, the first thing I see is the wall where Dess used to measure my height.
"Look, I'm taller than you!", I said.
"In your dreams!", Dess said back with the chalk in hand. And, had Susie been there with us, she would probably take it and eat it.
Now, these are the stairs that lead to my room. Follow me if you don't want to get lost.
Yes, this is my house.
No, don't let the colors scare you away. It'll be alright, stay with me.
But then, I realize I'm talking to no one. There is nobody here. I should be at peace, but...
It's dead quiet here. I should feel at peace. I don't feel that way as soon as I get to my room and lie down to take a nap.
I still don't feel at peace. I wish Dess was here.
"It's so unfair! You're tall because of your antlers!", I said, so convinced that I had grown bigger than Dess when I was only four years old.
"Life is unfair. Better learn it soon", Dess said, but not in a funny, playful tone. We were just bickering about silly things, our heights didn't even matter that much, but suddenly she became too serious and somber for someone who was only eleven years old.
And unfortunately, it wasn't the only time she did it.
Then I close my eyes…
...
...
I spy with my little eye...
A bat.
And a guitar.
Those were gifts. Dad's gifts.
Anything to give little Dess's life some meaning while mom was busy at her office and I was yet to exist.
"Here, dear. It's yours. Take it and have fun!", it's how I imagine dad speaking to his only daughter days before he had been told another one was coming.
"It's not my birthday, but... Thanks", it's what Dess could have said and nothing else.
So simple, and yet so true.
Dad offers a big and gentle grin. Dess tries to do the same, but gives up in the middle once she is handed her gifts.
First, the guitar.
And then, the bat.
"I can pay guitar lessons for you! And we can baseball on the yard together!", dad would probably say that.
"I can learn how to play guitar on my own, thanks, and I have my own set of friends too", Dess may have said before she went elsewhere, I don't know where exactly, but she doesn't like to stand near dad.
Or "under his shadow of benevolence", as she came to write on her diary.
Then I close my eyes…
...
...
I spy with my little eye...
A book.
It says "Fleurs du Mal" on the cover.
Mom is reading it. Not for me, but for herself.
She is lying on bed, ready to fall asleep.
I listen to her words. I can almost feel her touch. She feels my kick.
Dad is standing next to mom. He touches me. Both of them pose for the camera.
Mr. Holiday, as others kindly call dad, enjoys taking photos and recording films. He has a huge collection of them, which is the reason why I know so much about myself before I came to be myself.
They held each other's hands. They smiled. Dad and mom didn't see it, but I think I smiled too.
Mom talks about wanting to go back to the office, but dad reassures her that he'll be working twice for her, and as much as he has the best of intentions, mom replies that she's being mocked for staying at home without doing much.
The video comes to a halt, but not before dad offers a short, brief kiss on mom's forehead, because she had asked him not to touch her lips. With that said, dad picks up his camera equipment. He hopes and prays for a safe delivery before he leaves the bedroom.
At mom's request, dad sleeps on the sofa in the living room, because she hasn't been feeling very well lately and prefers to be alone.
Well, I keep her company. It's been like this for months.
She turns a few pages and recites some poetry aloud sometimes, but nothing mom says is directed at me.
I am just a witness, like Dess, who told me many stories about before I was born.
For a moment, she hesitates to reach mom, but does so anyway. Perhaps for my sake. She wants to see the baby.
That's what everyone calls me... The baby. No one knows if I'm a boy or a girl. The ultrasound images were quite confusing, even for the doctors, so they would only find out who I was once I was born in a few weeks.
Hearing that, Dess told her classmates I would be neither a boy or a girl, but a "queer" instead.
They don't get it. Some of them laugh. Others are confused. Only Dess seems to be proud of what she said.
She was six years old and didn't know the exact meaning of that word, she just thought it was cool. Well, to be fair, she thought everything her older friends said was cooler and wiser than anything ever said by the lousy brats in her classroom.
Even so, I never heard Dess say "queer" in front of our parents, and on that evening, she offered mom a blessing, followed by a single and rather flat “good night,” and just like dad, my sister left the room as well.
I'm alone. Me and mom.
Then I close my eyes…
...
...
I spy with my little eye...
The color white.
The walls around my house.
A pair of tiny little shoes.
Mom received so many gifts from friends, family and coworkers.
Dad took as many pictures and recorded as much footage as he could of himself, mom, Dess, and the guests that appeared in the background of the Holiday manor a few times.
I don't know if mom smiled or not during the party. She looked so bored on her own, but once dad was by her side, it all changed.
In order to explain this phenomenon, Dess came up with the theory that dad is the one who does all the smiling.
"He stays close to Carol very often and everyone notices the huge smile of joy on his face instead of hers, and that gives the impression to everyone else around that Carol is smiling too, even when she isn't trying. And trying is all she has been doing in her lifetime", according to Dess's diary.
While the entire world seems to be having fun until I was born, mom remains in her seat most of the time. Her leg has been restless since she woke up early in the morning, so she doesn't feel like walking around very much.
She tries to calm down by drinking a glass of water.
In truth, mom wanted to drink wine, but the doctor did not allow it, at the risk of having negative effects on my physical and mental growth. She obeys, feeling a little belittled, but understands that it is for my own good.
No matter what she does, the baby comes first.
With great enthusiasm, Dess shows the guitar and the bat to her friends. Mom doesn't seem very pleased, though it may be because she suddenly felt dizzy after walking between rooms and crows of familiar faces.
She hates it when random people touch her belly. Being a "cultured person", as she referred to herself, mom is polite and gently asks them not to do that, but sometimes she gets annoyed, and with dad by her side, she soon settles down before things get worse for her and everyone else.
Everyone seems to be gathered in front of the Christmas tree to listen to an important speech. Said address lasts for some time, until...
"If it's a boy, his name shall be Nicholas!", it's what dad said to his guests, smiling as usual. He looked very happy, and he wasn't drunk yet.
"And if it's a girl, her name shall be Noelle", it's what mom said, with hers and dad's hand resting on her belly. She lets him touch her from time to time.
"The kid hasn't been delivered yet and has no right to choose", it's what Dess whispered to herself as she went upstairs with the bat and the guitar, and her whispers soon became words written in her diary.
Then I close my eyes…
...
...
I spy with my little eye...
A sign, hanging on a wall, white like the one in my house.
But here, it's not my house. The sign says "No smoking".
Dad isn't a smoker, though. He writes himself a few notes on the papers while he stands in the waiting room of a hospital.
The reason he's here is because mom was brought to the delivery room and stayed there for hours. About two or four, maybe, but for dad, it felt like time had stopped and everything was static, like a photograph.
He did not like it. Or, as he wrote, "I don't appreciate this everlasting silence in my heart and mind".
The nurse tried to comfort him, and despite being aware months earlier that my gestation could have complications, nothing serious, just that it would be a little difficult for mom to endure, dad found words like "forceps" and "C-section" to be quite brutal in their own right, and it's no wonder he was very concerned about his wife's well-being.
Dess is nowhere to be seen. She is at school, doing an exam, and once she leaves, dad will pick her up by car and bring her here to see me and mom.
Time passes. No news from mom or me.
Labor is not over yet. The details are very obscure, since dad stopped writing his notes and taking pictures.
Dess got her diary in hand, though.
"I saw him parked at the school entrance once it began to rain and thunder a little. I said goodbye to Azzy before getting into the car. We went to the hospital and waited for a while in the waiting room. We are still waiting, so I am writing to keep myself occupied. I am anxious, of course, but dad is worried, agitated too, and at one point he got so nervous that he even dropped the plastic cup he was holding, and I thought he had pissed his pants, but it was just a water stain. Well, given how shaken up he was, I wouldn't have been surprised if he had pissed his pants."
In the next paragraph, she added a curious note: "He brought that fancy equipment with him. Dad planned to record the birth on video, as he did with mine, but due to his state of mind, he didn't do it because he thought he would be recording Carol's death. Yeah, sometimes I do want to see her suffer, but not like this. It's very undeserving, even for her pitiful kind, so we wait until the surgeon arrives with the good news."
Then I close my eyes…
...
...
I spy with my little eye...
A calendar. It says "March 25th, 2003".
It's on the counter, next to mom, who is holding me.
I can't see anything. My eyes are shut, so dad takes pictures. Many of them.
He doesn't hold me. Yet. Not before he sets up his camera. And along comes a smile.
Finally, He gets his chance to record a short film titled "Für meine liebe Noelle".
Everything went well. No surgical interventions were necessary during my delivery. Everything is fine.
Mom is very happy. A little tired, but she holds me again and offers me warmth and milk when I need it.
Dad is by her side and keeps commenting on how small my antlers are. He also mentions that my whole body looks like a knee, then he adds that I look like a little angel who fell from heaven and he says some of the sweetest things about my being.
Yes, I'm a girl. I didn't know who I was, but they keep telling me I'm a girl, they called me Noelle, and so I believe it.
And, had I been a Nicholas, dad and mom would treat me the same way they did.
"The queer was born completely clean, no streaks of blood", Dess wrote in her diary a few days later. "I think Noelle is a pretty name, though. That's all the credit I'm giving to Carol. She can go to the clown store to change her makeup anytime, but that name suits my sister very well. I mean, the queer. My friends say I'm being rude when I use that word, that it's offensive, that it's an insult, and maybe it is, but not in the way I use it".
One page is devoted to, uh... Lots of doodles, including poorly drawn genitals, people on fire, exploding cars, song lyrics, funny faces, and a bunch of nasty swear words on a single page. Thank goodness our parents never saw that.
Skipping to the next page, a disobedient and mildly troubled Dess has more to say.
"...Besides, some of my “friends” are full of crap in their heads, mouths, and pants. I hope they all drown and choke in their own poop! All of them, except Azzy. He is a smart boy, he think boys being taught to wear blue and despise pink without being given the chance to ask why things are the way they are is actually more offensive than, well, calling my little sister by queer. In any case, Noelle is a very cute name. A queer name, I could say, but in front of others, I'll say it's cute instead so I don't get in trouble. I could care less about my friends, they're just spoiled brats, but adults on the other hand... I'd rather not mess with them".
Then I close my eyes…
...
...
I spy with one eye...
A strawberry.
I'm eating fruit salad in the kitchen.
Mom is behind me, combing my hair.
She compliments me on how much hair I have, saying it makes me look like a young lady.
I must be two years old and dad is eager to hear my first words. This is why he brought the camera. He swears he heard me say a few things that made sense, other than "Blah!" and "Bleh!" and "Bloooh!", so he waits, like a bored fisherman.
Dess is in front of me, doing her homework. She coughs and complains about her arms feeling itchy, but nobody listens.
I stared at her, barely moving, looking more like a doll than a toddler as mom keeps combing each strand of my hair.
"Frah!", I said, as if something were stuck in my throat. It doesn't come out.
"Are you sure Elly's going to say any meaningful words, dad?", asked Dess, still focused on her homework and feeling worn out.
"I'm quite sure, my dear", dad replied, still pointing his camera at me.
"Well, I hope she does that before she messes up the table", said mom, still combing my hair.
"FRAH!", I do it again, louder this time. Mom tells me to shush a little, while dad says it's okay, I'm about to say something, and Dess doesn't seem to care about her homework or me neither.
She just wants to leave our presence because she's not doing well.
I don't know what came over me, but I ended up spitting a piece of half eaten banana in Dess's face, which promptly spilled and fell on her notebook's page. She sighed after cleaning herself up and left the table shortly after to go to the living room, and once there, my sister continued doing her homework as if her life depended on it.
Eventually, mom wiped my mouth with a napkin and stopped combing my hair to answer the phone.
She left the kitchen, and I think I said "frog" on that day. It's what dad believes, and I'd be lying if I said he wasn't amazed that I had said something he could understand.
It seemed like nothing special to mom, but she was delighted, though it wasn't evident from her lack of a smile.
I don't remember what happened to Dess. Dad had to recharge his camera battery, and since I was only two years old, I think, my memories of that time have faded, and would have disappeared entirely if it weren't for the photos and videos I saw years later.
All I know is that Dess finished her homework, and on many occasions, she complained that her arms and legs hurt, and she swore that she wasn't just being lazy, which is what mom always seemed to say in response and dad doesn't stop her at all, since he was occupied at work or other things.
Then I close my eyes...
...
...
I spy with my little eye...
Dust sparkling in the sunlight on the windowsill.
I'm in the living room.
Mom is knitting. The sound is very pleasing.
I can't remember how old I was, but this is one of my earliest memories.
I must have been a toddler, or a bit older than that.
Maybe I was five or six, but I was still being treated like a toddler by those around me.
Dess is not at home, and neither dad is around.
It's just me and mom.
She is knitting something. I don't know, a sweater, a sock, we don't exchange a single word.
Days before, she forbade me from talking, unless it was really important.
Suddenly, I felt a knot in my stomach. I told mom I needed to go pee and poo.
"In the restroom, darling", and so mom pointed out to where I should go. She did not hold my hand on my way to the toilet, or even faced me. Worse, she felt like enforcing some etiquette on me. "Also, you don't, in any circumstance, say what you'll do in the restroom. No pees and poos. They aren't necessary, and you don't want to embarrass yourself in front of others, Noelle. Instead, all you've got to say in front of others is "I need to step away for a moment", and that's all. Now, go."
As if it weren't embarrassing enough to have to ask mom's permission to empty my bladder and bowels, only to hear that speech devoid of any compassion...
I felt like doing it on the floor as a protest, but I went to the restroom as mom told me. Sorry, ordered me to.
If only dad or Dess were here, they would understand my position and do things in a different way.
Like, mom couldn't bother to teach me how to wipe with the paper. Dess had to do it in her place.
Now, would it be too much to ask for mom's voice to sound as sweet and mellow as her knitting?
...
...
I spy with my little eye...
A blue sky.
I'm away from home.
I'm not sure how old I am. Nevermind, I'm old enough to be in school, which is where dad was taking me.
Well, I wish he did. The car has stopped moving, and I see smoke coming out of the hood.
Dad is as surprised as I am. He is not a mechanic, but he opens the door and tries to see what happened. He grabs his phone from his pocket to call for a tow truck before calling the school principal to explain my absence from class.
Then, out of nowhere, he comes. It's like he fell from the sky, but no, he is driving the tow truck.
The man is huge! How did he fit inside that tiny truck?
I'm not saying he's fat, far from me to say it. No, he is HUGE! Bigger than dad, or nearly as big as him, and I'm not kidding, he is so strong he can lift the car with his bare hands!
No, I'm not talking about Superman. By the way, he calls himself Asgore, and he brought us to his workshop.
On his truck, not with his hands alone because, as pleasant as Hometown can be, traffic happens to be a bother on some days.
The big man... Excuse me, Asgore... He talks about how he has worked in many jobs, comments on the crisis, says he is unemployed far more times than employed, I never thought I'd hear dad say "it sucks" in a sentence, but he said it because he felt compassionated for the guy, and so they talked a bit more, perhaps too much, their meaningless chatter just kept going on and on and Asgore offered some coffee to dad too, I thought he was going to fix the car but no, they kept talking about life and other things and I decided to take a nap in my seat because hearing all that grown-up conversation was getting boring...
Once I woke up, Asgore tried to impress us with his skills, and I'm not talking about being fired countless times.
He is yet to earn a medal for that, and I don't think he ever will.
Anyway... With his smell, and I'm not making this up, dad recorded a video and was also perplexed by what he saw, like WOW! Asgore detects the source of the car's problem as a malfunctioning radiator. He removes the hood and, indeed, the radiator is broken. It was already quite old, and dad was shocked to see that it lasted so long without breaking.
Very well, after sweating a lot and getting covered in grease, Asgore tells dad he'll get a new radiator for free, despite rambling about how he was "in need of money and a stable job in these dire times".
Naturally, dad asked why Asgore was being so polite, and he replied that he was doing it out of genuine respect for Mr. Holiday and his family.
Even so, dad gave a lot of money to the guy he had just met, and even swore he would help him find a stable job if he needed it.
That day, I arrived at school a little late. Asgore offered me a ride in his tow truck, which was very kind of him.
He also took my dad to work, and so everyone lived happily... Well, not happily ever after, since Asgore keeps getting fired despite the big heart he has, but he and dad became best friends since then and that's good, I guess.
Then I close my eyes...
...
...
I spy with my little eye...
Watercress.
I was four years old when it happened.
It was the day I almost drowned.
Some mean kid tried to scare me in my birthday party.
Unsatisfied that they didn't succeed, they pulled me into a pond.
Dess remembers a lot better than I. She's the one who rescued me.
"...In our home. On her birthday. In front of friends and relatives. God. Elly can't swim. She can't breathe underwater. Why did nobody hear her? What if I didn't rush in and jump in the pond, followed by dad? And Carol watched the scene in horror. She had been chatting with this Toriel lady when it happened. I too was horrified, I could barely move and I have no idea how I made it to the pond. My only sister needed me. I had to rescue her. Did nobody notice I was shaking once I brought little Elly in my arms? God, she kept coughing and coughing like a smoker until dad held her and mom brought the blankets, and yes, that was one of the few times Carol actually acted like a mother figure should."
A wall of swear words comes next, followed by more of Dess's account in her diary: "And where the hell was I? Goddamnit, why did I allow it to happen? Why did I let Elly get close to the pond? That place is a hazard for anyone of her age. There was nothing preventing her from just getting close enough to fall on it, and why did I let that awful kid scare her? That stupid little brat, it's all their fault. I hate them. How could Kris hurt Elly like that? How could they, what was going on in their head? I'll never know. Azzy doesn't know either, despite knowing his foster sibling a lot better than anyone else. He doesn't blame his mom for being careless, unlike Carol, who was ready to point her finger at somebody, even if it hurt because she is usually very polite with the Dreemurrs and other guests."
And it continues on the next page: "After Kris did what they did to Elly, I did something stupid. Of course, I wasn't thinking. Kris stood outside Elly's bedroom and I did not want them to be near her ever again, so I grabbed my bat and I whacked it on their head. Right in front of Azzy. He climbed the stairs and immediately saw me hitting his sibling. His face... I saw so many things at once in Azzy's face, a mixture of sadness and anger and disgust, and one of his fists were clenched too. It looked like he was going to hit me as he rushed upstairs, but he didn't because it wasn't the right thing to do. Enraged, and who else wouldn't be in his place, Azzy almost yelled back a few curses, but as soon as Kris started crying, he hugged them, and that clenched fist of his opened to reach out and gently hold the kid's hand, which I had hit and left a bruise on. I felt terrible that day, perhaps even more than Elly, and when Azzy left with his family by the front door in the rain, we didn't say goodbye and I still held that damned bat. The weight in my hands was heavier than ever."
From the photos and videos I saw, I stayed in bed, wrapped in a sea of blankets and feeling chills. Dad served me soup, Mom read me a fairy tale before bed, and Dess locked herself in her bedroom doing who knows what.
Now, one of the few things I remember by myself iis that it took me a year and a half to forgive Kris. Or maybe it was just a week that passed so slowly that it felt like a whole year had gone by, but I forgave them. They brought me flowers, which was a nice gesture of their part, and they... Well, not just Kris, but everyone in the picture dad took of us together looked so sad. Like, we could barely stare at each other's faces.
Especially Dess. She did stare at me a couple of times, but beyond the pictures, my poor sister had a hard time forgiving Kris, their brother and herself too.
She did something bad. I don't blame her. I could have died in that pond.
After the incident, Dess and Azzy didn't get along right away. It took them some time to reunite, look straight at each other and, well... Talk, as they usually did.
Then I close my eyes...
...
...
I spy with my little eye...
Crayons.
I am drawing something on paper while watching TV in the living room.
Instead of dad, Dess is the one who's holding the camera.
"Hey Elly! What are you doing?", She asked, stepping closer to me.
"I'm drawers", I said, not lifting my head as I drew something, a bunch of colorful scribbles.
"It's a drawing", Dess corrected me. "You're drawing, but that's okay. Keep going."
I must be, uh... Three, four, five fingers! I got five fingers at hand and I'm learning how to count, so I must be five years old.
Someone, I'm not sure if it was mom or Dess, but one of them turned on the VHS and I'm watching an educational cartoon about numbers, letters, words, counting, it's a very weird one. It has a creature from outer space that eats clocks. It also has a princess with rollerskates in it too. I like her a lot.
"And what are you watching, is it Arthur?", Dess asked another question as she sat down on the sofa.
"No, it's Fuzzy", I said, still not looking at her. Well, I look at Dess, but then I look at the paper, then at the TV, and now I can't take my eyes off the TV.
"Uh, I think it's called Muzzy", Said Dess, with her eyes and camera focused on the TV as well. "And who's that gal?"
"Oh? Princess Sylvia?", I said, still looking at the screen. "She's beautiful and she's got a boyfriend."
"A boyfriend, you say?"
"Yes, his name is Bob and he's brave", I nodded as I faced Dess, and then I went back to look at the TV. "And he loves Sylvia too."
In an odd twist of events, I think I loved Sylvia too, but in my mind, a girl shouldn't love another girl and that's why boys exists, so they love the girls instead of other girls, but I didn't care because Princess Sylvia was on the TV and I really liked her for some reason.
I liked the other characters from Muzzy, but she was different. It must have been her beauty that fascinated me. Like, in one scene, Sylvia said "I'm beautiful!", and that's true, I agree.
A while passes, and everything seems quiet except for the sounds and colors coming from the TV, but then, my sister places the camera she had been holding next to her on the sofa and decides to comment a little.
"Who puts a hamburger in their bag like that?", Dess asked in a sarcastic tone and I giggled a little while covering my mouth. It's kind of her thing, pointing out the lack of logic in cartoons. "Wait, does Sylvia have a crown attached to her motorcycle helmet? Now that's clever."
"Corvax is clever", I said, drawing something I don't quite remember what it was, and then I turned my attention back to the TV. Dess seems to be watching it as well, though not in the same way as I do.
While I'm learning how to count and pronounce words and stuff, Dess already learned those and she's ready to keep making fun of the cartoon, as if she has nothing else to do, and I don't mind her company.
In fact, things got really fun when she started cracking jokes. With a stroke of magic, she made me laugh so easily.
...
"...I got a computer, but I shouldn't have installed Windows Vista on it..."
"...Well, let's see, I got plums, I got peaches, I got unpaid Oompa Lumpas working for me right there..."
"...Thank you. Can I have a refund and my dignity back, please?..."
"...Huh, if only I had been born with rollerskates like my daughter's, I'd be a less round queen..."
"...A plum, a peach and a grape, hah! I got three out of four Horsemen of Apocalypse!..."
"...A plum, a plum, a plum, yeah, yeah, YEAH! I get it, Garfield, it's a plum, not rocket science, damnit!..."
"...Hmmm, I smell something wet. Oh wait, it's myself!..."
"...Count? I don't know how to do that! I'm just a temp..."
"...Heh, he can't see the forest for the trees, now I'm being clever and close to world domination!..."
"...Now tell me how many grains of sand are there on the beach, Bob!..."
"...Man, I could be counting Martin Luther's thesis instead of these flowers..."
"...Actually, I like the fact you got rollerskates on your feet, but yeah, I like you..."
"...Hey, that's very nice of you, Sylvia, but you could have at least brought a condom to the picnic..."
"...Geez, dude, you've got to love yourself first. Not that way! But you know what I mean, right?..."
"...A, E, I, O, U... I don't know where to go, so maybe I'll fly you to the moon..."
"...A, I, O, U, E... I think Corvax is a douche..."
"...Ah, Van Gogh's wheat field... Such a lovely place to be, don't you think, honey?..."
"...Falling in love with a gardener? Well, it could've been worse, the princess could have fallen in love with me, Corvax!..."
...
A while later, the camera turned itself off, but I remember that Dess kept making these kinds of silly jokes throughout all the Muzzy episodes we saw together, and I liked it very much.
I didn't get the condom joke, not until I grew up and I'm so glad our parents weren't near when Dess said it.
Then I close my eyes...
...
...
I spy with my little eye...
Yellow marbles.
No, those are eyes, but not mine.
I see them below tufts of brown hair.
I'm nine years old. I'm at school, it's recess, and I just bumped into her.
It's her. Of all people, it's HER!!!
I don't know what's happening to me, but lately, I'm impressed by the fact that Susie is a girl.
I feel so giddy when I'm around her. It makes no sense, but why should it?
She's a girl! And I'm a girl too, though not quite like... Her.
That girl... The only and one Susie. She steals my breath and reasoning. But still, I feel a need to whisper in her ear... "You're a pretty girl"... Even if Susie won't let me get close.
So I ran and bumped into her on purpose. To get close enough to listen to her heartbeat.
"Oh my shit!", Susie shouted as soon as we fell to the ground and I landed on top of her. Well, that was my intention, but that's not how things turned out to be. Besides, if that happened while others were looking, I'd be ashamed.
Well, I came face to face with Susie, and for a moment, I was glued to her chest.
Our heartbeats were the same, but she didn't take it very kindly.
“Damn it! Get off me, Noelle!", Susie said as she pushed me away, though not as harshly as she had done with a child who, an hour earlier, had caught her attention for wearing underwear instead of panties.
"Uh, I'm sorry", I said, faking awkwardness for a moment. "I did not mean it."
"Yeah, sure. What the fridge", Susie looked at me and all I could think about was how nice she smelled, even though she stank like a pack of rotten sardines. "What's with you lately, Noelle? You keep doing the same thing again and again, it's not funny. What are you trying to say? Like, if you want to see the law of inertia in action, I can just punch that jerk over there for you."
"Would you do that for me?", I asked, feeling a tingle in my heart. MY HEART!!! Wait, to where did Susie just point now? There's nobody behind me, it's just the two of us in here and...
Oh my. I must be dreaming. Susie just talked. To me. Of all people. No, you silly! Tjis isn't a dream, and knowing that, I feel like saying a lot of things at once, but okay, alright, I'll begin with a praise.
To be fair, anything I'm about to say should be valid enough to break this awkward silence between me and Susie...
"Uh, I like to see you bullying other children who are mean to me and others, it's so satisfying to see karma play out, so please, would you do it for me? Pretty please with a cherry on top!?"
"No", Susie just raised my expectations sky high and then knocked them down as if they meant nothing. "Besides, I've got better things to do, and I don't mean going to class, because class, as we all know, is a damn ASS. It sucks more than a mosquito feeding on our blood."
"You're a girl", I said, out of nowhere.
"Uh... Yes", Susie replied, a bit, if not utterly confused by my previous comment.
"It's true, you're a girl", I said again.
"Yeah, duh!", Susie was still confused, but she seemed to be listening.
"And I'm a girl too", I said, not bothered by the repetition. I just want Susie to be near.
"As a matter of fact, yes", Susie said as she just kept getting closer and closer instead of running away.
"So... We're girls", I blushed a little, but Susie could not care less. I want her to care a lot.
"Yeah, so what? I don't get you."
"But I want you to get it", I stepped back as Susie slowly got closer to me, and soon I was pinned against a cabinet behind me, with Susie still in front of me.
"Get what?"
"You're a girl."
"Yeah, boo freaking duh, and why should that be a big deal, huh?"
"I don't know! Don't you feel... Uh, things... When people tell you you're a girl?"
"And why should I?", Susie asked as her shadow cast over me, and I feel both afraid and grateful that this is happening.
"What? Don't you feel those things?"
"What things? At least be more clear. Your vagueness is very annoying."
"You're a girl."
"Heh, the hell I am!", Susie raised her arms, and I just wished she would hold me with them instead of surrounding me like a fence. "Come to think of it, Noelle... You talk as if you're an alien figuring out how earthlings work before you're ready to invade our planet, and I hope that I'm being paranoid and what I just said isn't true, or else I'll pour orange juice on your head and you'll die because martians are afraid of water, or something, it's very dumb, like old movies tend to be."
"No, I'm not a martian", I said, trying to avoid Susie's face, and yet I kept looking back at her.
"Then what or who are you?"
"I'll tell you", I said, and in a moment of courage and sheer stupidity, I leaned close to Susie's ear to whisper something in a very low and somewhat sweet tone. "I'm just a girl. And you too."
"So what?", Susie did the same thing as I did. She leaned closer to my ear as my heart began to beat so fast that I felt like it was going to explode in my chest, and instead of whispering something, she licked me. In the ear. Yuck!
No, she didn't do it, but that wouldn't feel out of character. Or would it be?
Maybe. Perhaps. Instead, here's what happened...
"So what?" Susie sighed as she placed her hands in her pockets, and I'm not making any of this up, I thought she was going to run away, but quite the opposite, she looks at me with those yellow eyes she rarely shows others and seems ready to say something stuck in her guts.
Well, she burps. Typical of her.
But Susie is not done yet. In silence, she gives me that look of someone who needs to express something in words, not with bodily sounds.
I just nod, and she understands that she must speak now or forever hold her peace.
"I don't know why you're doing this to me, Noelle. I just want to be left alone, but you keep coming up to me wanting something from me. It's like I got this amazing chocolate bar only you can see and you want to take a bite of it so badly, but guess what? That chocolate doesn't exist, only in your mind. Yours, and only. So what if I'm a girl? You know, I don't even care about that. I have other things to worry about more than my girlhood, and sometimes... I think that if I were a boy, you wouldn't care about me."
She pauses. Not to burp, she just looks around to see if anyone else is listening.
And as she realizes that everyone is outside in the courtyard, Susie feels like continuing what she was saying.
"Yeah, you heard that right, if I were a boy, I think you wouldn't bother me as much as you insist on doing. Well, is that it? I don't have a Richard between my legs, and that's enough reason for you to get all huffy and puffy with me and only me?"
"No, that's not... What, Richard?"
"Yeah, Richard. Dick. Turkey. Sausage. Schwartz. PENIS!!!", Susie yelled as loud as she could, as if she wanted the entire school to hear that joke, while I wanted this to be between us, so she lowered her voice and began to sing to herself. "Penis penis penis penis penis penis, Dennis got one tennis and a pair of penises..."
"Eugh!", I said, feeling disgusted, but also smiling a little. Susie makes me feel this way, and maybe that's why I like her. Yeah, maybe. "No, Susie. I just... I wanted to say... That you are cool and--"
"I AM COOL!"
"But that's not all! I got to--"
Just as I was about to say something important, the school bell rang and we went back to class. Susie didn't notice me for the rest of the day, she ignored me and I missed the little bit of honesty she had shown me.
I'm so glad that you exist, Susie.
There, that's all you should have said, Noelle.
You could have said it and she would understand how you feel inside.
You corn dog! Stupid corn dog... I can't do anything right.
Then I close my eyes...
...
-PLEASE INSERT DISC 2-