Oh My...

28.) Life

Carter dropped Marshall and I off at his house before driving Lindsay and Proof home. While exiting the car, I stared at the dimming sky, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

Marshall planted himself on the top of a five foot plastic slide. "Glad to be home," he muttered, stretching.

I rubbed my eyes. "What's gonna happen after this?"

"Nothing. We're gonna go back to chillin'." He shrugged. "If Claire ever acts up, just come here."

I sat at the bottom of the slide and let my face fall into my hands. "I know we could get along if we tried," I began. Even though head felt groggy from coming down from my high, I still tried to pick the right words to say. "When we're talking to each other we're pretty cool, but we just do things that piss each other off..." I shook my head, disappointed. "I'm not sure what to do about it. You can't change people."

"Do you really believe that?" Marshall asked idly, when I turned to look at him I saw him staring intently at the changing sky.

"Firmly." I replied, glancing at the street in front of us. "You can only change yourself. That's probably one of the main things I learned through life." I sighed thoughtfully. "Man, I learned a lot of things during life..."

"Wouldn't you miss life if you killed yourself?" Marshall suddenly wondered. My body went rigid at the random topic he chose to bring up. "I mean, just life. Being outside, being able to look up and see a stunning sky. Walking around town and marvel at the things humanity built; the daunting, crowded streets. The intimidating skyscrapers. Fuck everyone else right now. Just imagine you, standing on a busy street filled with people and just...observing. Seeing what's out there, realizing how small you really are. Just thinking about all the history Earth went through and where we are today and that we're lucky enough to be apart of it. Wouldn't you miss it?"

I was stunned at Marshall's speech. When I could finally speak, all I could muster was: "You have a really impressive vocabulary when you really start talking."

He smirked. "Thanks. I studied the Dictionary when I was thirteen, so that probably helps."

I laughed at his quirkiness before sitting back and contemplating his words. "I would miss it," I finally confessed. "I never thought about it like that."

"When I feel overwhelmed, I remind myself of that sometimes." He sighed. "Life really is so precious."

"And we killed someone today..." I whispered.

We were silent for a long time after that, staring at the sky as it shifted into night. Finally, Marshall said: "You know we're going to Hell, right?"

I darkly chuckled. "I was going to Hell a long time before this happened."

Marshall didn't make any comment towards my black humor. He just kept staring at the dark grey clouds that were sweeping over the city. "Do you think there's an exception for people like us?" He whispered.

I stared at him. "People like us?" I asked, not quite getting what he was saying.

Marshall's gaze slid down to meet mine. "You know, people like us. Products of our environment--the good people who make bad choices. Too bad for Heaven, too good for Hell. Is there a place for us after we die?"

I considered his words carefully. "Maybe people like us wander around as ghost," I suggested. "We didn't achieve what we had to when we were alive, so we're damned to live out our existence here. As a spirit. Where no one can hear you scream." I pulled my legs close to my body.

"Where no one can hear you scream?" Marshall repeated, his tone judgmental. "What kind of Edgar Allan Poe shit...?"

"You can't fuckin' hear or see spirits, can you?! Now imagine walking the same streets forever, everyone ignoring you and the world going on without you. Wouldn't that drive you crazy?"

Marshall snorted. "Sometimes, I already feel that way."

"Who's talkin' Edgar Allan Poe shit now?" I teased.

He laughed before pushing his body down the slide, causing him to collide with me. Though, before I could fly off the slide from the impact, he held me close by the waist. "Let's cry and slit our wrist together," Marshall purred in my ear.

"Now you're talkin' my language." I laughed.

Marshall rested his chin on my shoulder. "I like talking to you."

I giggled. "I like talking to you, too." I knew he could hear a smile in my voice.

I felt his nose dig into my hair. "We should leave Detroit." He murmured.

"We can go to Brooklyn." I offered. "I know-"

"No," he cut me off, shaking his head. "I dont wanna leave this hood just to go to another one. I want out. Out of it all."

I snorted. "How do you expect to get out of here?" I demanded. "You know the system's fucked up. We'll be here until we die."

"It's been done before," Marshall pointed out. "You can't ignore that."

"And?"

"And...what makes them so much different from me?" His tone was low.

I sighed. "How do you even expect to leave?" I asked.

"Through my music," Marshall answered. "I can do it."

"Marsh..."

"I can do it."

I sighed again. "Well, if you do make it, I better be right there with you."

He laughed and hugged me tighter. "Of course."

It was dark now, with stars peeking out from behind soaring clouds, and the moon illuminated against thick fog. Wind shook the trees, and I shivered from the drop in temperature. "You ready to go home?" Marshall asked.

I nodded. "You mind walking me?"

"Not at all." We both stood up, and hand in hand, walked off his property and down the road.