Sort of Dead

13 - Detention And After Detention (Kill me, Please)

Tom and Jerry. Cat and mouse.

Gabocks (Gaba plus jocks, you know) and Aarra (Aar plus Marra, you know).

Chases that never end. Story of my damned life.

Well, I showed Aar and Bee my remote house and my Uncle's even more secluded, gothic mansion, which is where we usually hung out. Bee started poking Uncle with questions regarding his antiquities and I had to literally duct tape her mouth to keep her quiet.

Whatever. Details aside.

I'll summarize my karmic deeds leading up to the main event.

One day, in a hunt to find Bee - where? In the library, of course, don't be daft - Aar and I created a lot of commotion and Mrs. Lizard Thinny gave us both detention. Which is unfair, because all we did was yell out her name out loud in a silent library, adding to the already plethora of unnecessary noises in this world.

("Bee, Bee
We're on a spree
So help us see
Where you're hidden, is it in a tree?")

(I made it up on the spot. I can't help it, talent just seeps out of me. Oh, don't applaud please, this isn't my best work.)

Anyhow, guess who we shared our detention with? Why, the Gabocks, but of course.

Just my luck laughing at me casually from the stands. As per freaking usual. No biggie.

Well, detention sucked. Duh. We were supposed to write a whole essay on how we'd like to improve ourselves, in what aspects, whether we regret what we did or not. And unless you write exactly what they want you to write, you have to keep writing. I copied my entire thing from Aar, because I am an artistic person and take no pleasure in being a robot for these millennials.

I don't even see what we were being punished for, really; amidst the tornadoes of noises in this world, ours wasn't even a ripple in the pond.

Then again, I presume little adds to whole. (Hashtag Curb Noise Pollution!)

Gaba didn't even write a proper essay. He jotted down, like, four, five sentences - that too with sparsely spaced words in his large, ugly handwriting - but the teachers know how much of a dumbo he is, so they let some steam off for him.

Which is again unfair, if you ask me. Innocents like me and Aar have to write whole essays, while he was probably in detention because of slaughtering someone and whatnot and he gets away with four lines.

Life sucks sometimes. Sometimes being most of the time.

What Gaba did do was shoot me with innumerable killer glares. Now, I can't die. But if glares could kill, my quirk would mean nata and I would be six feet under before you could say "oh no!"

Detention ended, finally, after the winter solstice turned to the summer solstice and the summer solstice turned into the 100 days of Hell. We took a deep sigh.

Aar and I decided to hang out for awhile. We were going to my Uncle's, but life has a knack of messing up with me.

Marra: The Undead With The Luck of A Burnt Potato Which Gets Squashed, Smashed, Tossed, Kicked, Dumped And Ultimately Degenerated, No Hard Feeling, Though.

Name of the documentary based on my life.

You must be thinking: oh, come on, Mar - things aren't that bad, you made two new friends and you seem to be having a blast with them!

That's because you don't know what happened next.

To put things concisely, I died. That's what all this is about.

Yeahhhhhh, so - you know how Uncle's mansion is in this hole which someone chucked away in some pit. Usually, that's a good punt. But it acted against us that particular day.

You probably guessed who we encountered there. If you didn't, get your brains checked by a neuro- "I don't mean any offense" -logist.

It was the Gabocks.

Somehow, we didn't notice them following us, likely because Aar was cracking me up with his sad dad jokes.
("What do you call someone who will kill you if you make a mistake, but you still really wanna cuddle that someone?" Since he was making so many Dad jests, I thought the answer must be "your father". But Aar just cackled evilly. "It's a bear, you nincompoop!" He calls this expectation subversion, the key ingredient of most comedy. I heartily disagree.)

He was onto another beggarly joke when I felt a mighty tug at the collar of my shirt, making me nearly break my neck and choke simultaneously.
I feel stupid not having guessed their plans judging by those glares in detention.

'Buttwipe and Toadface strolling together,' Gaba dolled, 'and I can't even tell which is which.'

(I distinctly remember snorting here because even though Aar and I do look like distant twins, at least our bully should have the courtesy to tell us apart. I mean, when you make a person's life hell, the least you can do is know their face well. Also, that remark was hurtful. Shaking my head.)

I struggled to free myself as the jocks started guessing which one of us was which, but Gaba's hold was unyielding. Aar howled - he reminded of this really old war movie, where the main character yells like a trumpet before charging and finishing enemy ranks all by himself (after all, he is an actor) - but it did not end well because one of the jocks twisted his arms and locked them behind his back.

So now both Aar and I were unable to move, surrounded by a bunch of dumb trolls. First Dad jokes and now this? Could this day get any better?

Gaba bought his face near my ear, breathing his stinky breath right into it. 'Our brains could do with the sharpening, huh?'

At first I didn't get what he was talking, but then I remembered. What I had said to him that day. I regretted it very much at the moment. Honestly, I was surprised Gaba remembered it with that vapid memory of his, but whatever.
I guess what hurts your ego stays with your ego.

'We'll see who sharpens what today,' he said, leaning in closer towards me, producing a bayonet as the jocks shook with trollish laughter.

'Jesus!' I cried. 'What did you have for breakfast?'

Gaba seemed genuinely surprised. 'Roast beef, why?'

'Your breath smells like skunks and decomposed marshmallows, that's why! Do you even brush?'

(I didn't actually say that, but more or less so, who cares?)

Nanoseconds after I said this, I wish I hadn't. In fact, I wish I were still a stillborn. I wished my parents had never went to that witch and got me this cursed life. That's how I feel every time I die.

Because Gaba proceeded to put that bayonet to good use.

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(This chapter was promoted by the Noise Curbing Association of Earth - if such a thing exists, I mean no offense.)