My cheeks were red cold just like Mr. Z’s drinking face and his black shoes and his voice saying when a caterpillar goes into a cocoon, it goes through torture and how it takes seven years to digest gum. And this one kid Mark at the party who gave me this came out of nowhere and looked at the sky and told me to see the stars. So, I looked up, and we were in this giant dome like a glass snowball, and Mark said that the amazing white stars were really only holes in the black glass of the dome, and when you went to heaven, the glass broke away, and there was nothing but a whole sheet of star white, which is brighter than anything but doesn’t hurt your eyes. It was vast and open and thinly quiet, and I felt so small.
Sometimes, I look outside, and I think that a lot of other people have seen this snow before. Just like I think that a lot of other people have read those books before. And listened to those songs.
I wonder how they feel tonight.
I don’t really know what I’m saying. I probably shouldn’t write this down because I’m still seeing things move. I want them to stop moving, but they’re not supposed to for another few hours. That’s what Bob said before he went to his bedroom with Jill, a girl that I don’t know.
I guess what I’m saying is that this all feels very familiar. But it’s not mine to be familiar about. I just know that another kid has felt this. This one time when it’s peaceful outside, and you’re seeing things move, and you don’t want to, and everyone is asleep. And all the books you’ve read have been read by other people. And all the songs you’ve loved have been heard by other people. And that girl that’s pretty to you is pretty to other people. And you know that if you looked at these facts when you were happy, you would feel great because you are describing “unity.”
It’s like when you are excited about a girl and you see a couple holding hands, and you feel so happy for them. And other times you see the same couple, and they make you so mad. And all you want is to always feel happy for them because you know that if you do, then it means that you’re happy, too.
I just remembered what made me think of all this. I’m going to write it down because maybe if I do I won’t have to think about it. And I won’t get upset. But the thing is that I can hear Sam and Craig having sex, and for the first time in my life, I understand the end of that poem.
And I never wanted to. You have to believe me.
Love always,
Charlie
Part 3
January 4, 1992
Dear friend,
I’m sorry for that last letter. To tell you the truth, I don’t really remember much of it, but I know from how I woke up that it probably wasn’t very nice. All I remember from the rest of that night was looking all over the house for an envelope and a stamp. When I finally found them, I wrote your address and walked down the hill past the trees to the post office because I knew that if I didn’t put it in a mailbox that I couldn’t get it back from, I would never mail the letter.
It’s weird how important it seemed at the time.
Once I got to the post office, I dropped the letter into the mailbox. And it felt final. And calm. Then, I started throwing up, and I didn’t stop throwing up until the sun came up. I looked at the road and saw a lot of cars, and I knew they were all going to their grandparents’ house. And I knew a lot of them would watch my brother play football later that day. And my mind played hopscotch.
My brother… football… Brad… Dave and his girlfr in my room… the coats… the cold… the winter… “Autumn Leaves”… don’t tell anyone… you pervert… Sam and Craig… Sam… Christmas… typewriter… gift… Aunt Helen… and the trees kept moving… they just wouldn’t stop moving… so I laid down and made a snow angel.
The policemen found me pale blue and asleep.
I didn’t stop shivering from the cold until a long time after my mom and dad drove me home from the emergency room. Nobody got in trouble because these things used to happen to me when I was a kid when I was seeing the doctors. I would just wander off and fall asleep somewhere. Everyone knew I went to a party, but nobody, not even my sister, thought it was because of that. And I kept my mouth shut because I didn’t want Sam or Patrick or Bob or anyone to get in trouble. But most of all, I didn’t want to see my mother’s face and especially my father’s if they heard me say the truth.
So, I didn’t say anything.
I just kept quiet and looked around. And I noticed things. The dots on the ceiling. Or how the blanket they gave me was rough. Or how the doctor’s face looked rubbery. Or how everything was a deafening whisper, when he said that maybe I should start seeing a psychiatrist again. It was the first time a doctor ever told that to my parents with me in the room. And his coat was so white. And I was so tired.
All I could think through the whole day was that we missed my brother’s football game because of me, and I really hoped my sister thought to tape it.
Luckily, she did.
We got home, and my mom made me some tea, and my dad asked me if I wanted to sit and watch the game, and I said yes. We watched my brother make a great play, but this time, nobody really cheered. All corners of all eyes were on me. And my mom said a lot of encouraging things about how I was doing so well this school year and maybe the doctor would help me sort things out. My mom can be quiet and talk at the same time when she’s being positive. My dad kept giving me “love pats.” Love pats are soft punches of encouragement that are administered on the knee, shoulder, and arm. My sister said that she could help me fix up my hair. It was weird to have them pay so much attention to me.
“What do you mean? What’s wrong with my hair?”
My sister just kind of looked around, uncomfortable. I reached my hands up to my hair and realized that a lot of it was gone. I honestly don’t remember when I did it, but from the look of my hair, I must have grabbed a pair of scissors and just started cutting without strategy. Big chunks of it were missing all over the place. It was like a butcher’s cut. I hadn’t looked at myself in the mirror at the party for a long time because my face was different and frightened me. Or else I would have noticed.
My sister did help me trim it up a bit, and I was lucky because everyone in school including Sam and Patrick thought it looked cool.
“Chic” was Patrick’s word.
Regardless, I decided to never take LSD again.
Love always,
Charlie
January 14, 1992
Dear friend,
I feel like a big faker because I’ve been putting my life back together, and nobody knows. It’s hard to sit in my bedroom and read like I always did. It’s even hard to talk to my brother on the phone. His team finished third in the nation. Nobody told him we missed the game live because of me.
I went to the library and checked out a book because I was getting scared. Every now and then things would start moving again, and sounds were bass heavy and hollow. And I couldn’t put a thought together. The book said that sometimes people take LSD, and they don’t really get out of it. They said that it increases this one type of brain transmitter. They said that essentially the drug is twelve hours of schizophrenia, and if you already have a lot of this brain transmitter, you don’t get out of it.