Hellfire and Broken Hearts.

The wind picked up and carried me into the sky. Peaceful, strong wind. The kind that brushes past your face on a hot day and carries all the troubles of the world away with it. I loved this dream. I flew forever into the dark expanses of the universe. To the stars. Always to the stars.1

Then I woke up to my nightmare. I don't mean to sound melo-dramatic, but that is how reality always appears to me. Nightmarish, like in one of those horrifyingly wonderful Bosch paintings that conjure hell's fury from the depths of a warped imagination. And I realize how lovely that may sound to you. That's just the way it is.2

I was born alone. It's not something you randomly come by. It just is. And I just was. It made things easier, I suppose. Or harder. I guess I never knew which. But the fact remains, I was born alone, and I grew up utterly alone.3

So it surprised me when someone finally wanted to be my friend. His name was James. He was one of the goth kids at school, though he didn't go quite to the extreme that most did. He still wore blue jeans. And always that ugly green jacket.4

I first met him my freshman year of high school. He was this short, awkward guy in my class that I always enjoyed torturing. Not for any other reason than the fact that I needed something to do. And everything he did made me laugh at him.5

His long, pudding bowl cut, light brown hair always draped over his abysmally black eyes. The pants he wore were alwyas just a bit short for him. Best of all, he was a generally jovial person who had a tendency to get annoyed at every little thing. Like when I started calling him Jimmy.6

"It's James, for God's sake, Reggie!" he nearly screamed at me.7

"Geeze, relax, Jimmy," I said, grinning at the angry flush on his face.8

What made it even more hillarious was that I was the smallest kid in school. As small as James was, he could still flatten me like a pancake if he had the mind to try. But I knew he would never try.9

"Let's just get to class, Regina," he said, exhausted with the argument. I couldn't blame him. I was very stubborn when it came to annoying people. I was an expert.10

"I duwanna go!" I cried, flopping down to the ground.11

James smiled his big goofy smile and dragged me from the wall, through two hallways, right in front of class.12

"Loser..." I mumbled, dusting myself off and walking in. Not that dusting myself off would have helped much in the musty, dirty classrooms at school. Disgusting.13

"Well, someone has to be a loser," he shrugged as we raced to my favorite desk. He got there first, so I kicked him.14

I sat in the desk that was right beside his, the second closest to the door. It was an easy class, so I contented myself by playing with my long, white-blond hair. I hated my hair. It didn't match me at all. I had been wanting to dye it black for the longest time, but my father wouldn't let me. I finally got him to compromise so I could dye it a lighter color. When I got home that day, I would dye it dark purple.15

But, until then, I sat at the desk and vaguely colored the ends of my hair pink with my highlighter. James punched my arm and I quickly looked up at the teacher.16

"Yes?" I asked absently, still concentrating more on my pink hair.17

He repeated the question, something about Kennedy and what happened in Cuba when the US failed to send military help to the revolutionists there.18

"What was it called, Miss Carmichael," the teacher asked again, a smug smile spreading on his tightly drawn features. "Bay of Pigs," I said, returning to my hair coloring.19

Everyone laughed. Mr. Doser, the history teacher, had never expected me to get that question right. In fact, we weren't even covering Kennedy's term in office. We were still in World War I.20

"I expect you to pay attention in class and stop reading ahead, Carmichael," Mr. Doser huffed, before returning to his lecture.21

Too bad I wasn't listening.22

After class James and I raced to our lockers. We always raced. It was stupid, but... I won. I slammed my locker shut and began walking toward the lunch room. James caught up, breathing heavy, and mumbling, "Can't you ever wait for me?"23

"Nope."24

We walked to lunch slowly, knowing that the line would be as long as the cafeteria when we got there, so rushing was pointless. We weren't the only ones. Carly Summer, the girl James had fawned over since the first grade, walked by us perkily.25

That's how Carly always was. Perky. I hated it.26

"Hi, James," Carly said quickly. "How's the happy couple?"27

I looked over at James as he spared a glance at me.28

"Couple?" I laughed.29

"Happy?" he asked.30

Carly looked stunned. "But, you two are always together. I guess I just assumed you were dating."31

"Sorry to bust up your happy place, but the world doesn't work that way," I said dryly. "Not everyone has to date." With that, I walked away, leaving him with the girl I knew he had been in love with for most of his life.32

Or I thought so, anyway.33

I paused around the corner , listening to them talk.34

"I'm sorry, James. I thought you two were together," Carly lamented.35

"I wish," James said quietly.36

I stopped walking. I had to have heard that wrong. "I wish." But that would mean he had feelings for me. My best friend. My only friend.37

The world swam around me sickeningly. Colors flashed and blurred angrily. My heart sank into my chest, suffocating me. That stupid sentence. Two simple words. "I wish." And I couldn't help but think...I wish he had never said that.38

~~~39

I still hung out with him all the time. After all, he was my best friend. But that's when I started noticing things. Like his hands. His hands were always brushing against me. On my back, or my neck. On my leg when whe turned to talk to me.40

How could it be that just days before he had been nothing other than my best friend, saving me from the loneliness, the nightmares. And now he was my best friend who also happened to have a crush on me.41

As days passed, I knew he was eventually going to tell me. I willed him not to. It would ruin everything, I knew. And All I wanted was for him to go back to being regular, boring old James. Jimmy.42

For a while, I figured he had gotten over it. I was happy for him, too. I was definitely not the kind of girl he should be with. But then, one day, he made me sit down with him in gym class to talk.43

"Reggie, I need to ask you something," he said. "Now, I don't care if you don't want to, but I just wanted to know if you'd be my girlfriend?"44

And there it was. So uneloquently placed out for the world to know. He had asked me out.45

Poor James. My God, I hated saying no. But I did.46

And so there the tale of my nightmare ends. Or begins. Or whatever. After all, an ending is just a new beginning, no matter how hard the transition. And some transitions hurt like Hellfire. Maybe it's something we all need to face, in the end. Maybe life is supposed to hurt like that, for everyone. I could have easily said yes. I could have turned around and ran when I knew it was coming. I didn't. Maybe it hurts too much to bear. But then, maybe it's for the better. It's just too bad it sucks.47