The Dove Keeper

Red

The next day, a weird sensation filtered through my body. I could never quite pinpoint where it came from; whether it was deep in my gut that kept churning so much I could barely eat a thing or if it started in my head which raced with hundred-mile an hour thoughts that only made the room spin and my head ache. I could also never quite pin down the exact emotion I was feeling too. I didn’t know if it was fear that Sam and Travis would find out where I was going after school, nervousness because of where I was going or excitement because I would get to see Gerard again. I couldn’t tell anything anymore; all I knew is that I kept looking at the white clock with red and black numbers willing it to go faster and faster. 

In all my years of high school, I had been pretty good at making time go by faster and pissing it away. When all the teachers did sometimes was give you busy work while they slept on their desks, you learn pretty quick how to either make use of the free time they gave you or piss it all away. And for the most part, I’d piss it all away. I’d sit and stare at walls, count how many kids I knew in the room that had probably gotten high and then having staring contests with the second hands of the clock. I was getting pretty good at tricking myself into thinking time was going faster than it really was. I’d extrapolate how much longer I’d have to wait in class, so when the bell finally did ring, the half an hour I told myself I had left would really only feel like five minutes. Today was no exception to my clock antics. And finally, when that fucking bell did ring, I jumped out of my seat and headed out into the dreary streets of Jersey, making my way to Gerard’s filing cabinet apartment. 

Most of the time, Travis or Sam would wait for me after school, by the bike rack to see if I wanted to do anything. But ever since the phone call the night before where they totally and completely blew me off, I had been ignoring them. I met up with them in the morning, (merely out of force of habit) where we had said stale hellos to each other. Sam’s eyes were still red rimmed and water logged and I could tell that he was still semi-high from the night before. He had probably fallen asleep in the room where they all had lit up, causing his eyes to still retain the distinct features of a night smoked away. Travis, as usual, smelt like the pot he had consumed and was still wearing his clothes from the day prior. No one but me would have noticed that small detail since Travis usually blends into the background anyway, only being picked out of a crowd by his smell. 

The three of us had waited in the hallway for our teachers to come and open the classroom doors for our first period when we met. Sam clung to Travis’ side instinctively, knowing that out of the three of us, he would be the one to save him. Travis was the one with the drugs; he was the important friend. Even if Sam and I had known each other since we were five years old, Sam would sell me down the river for Travis, if it meant he would always have his lifetime supply of pot. And honestly, for the most part I would have been hurt. I didn’t have many friends as it was and I tried to cling to the ones I was able to keep like a leech. But in the morning all I could feel was resentment and a weird twist of hope mixed in with it. Sam and I may not have been as close anymore, but that didn’t matter. I had plans after school now; I didn’t need to deal with my drugged up best friend and our dealer underling. I had a job to do. I was going to be cleaning paintbrushes for free alcohol from the fag artist. It wasn’t perfect, but any job I had had before ever came close to it. And it gave me a good feeling, knowing that I didn’t have to depend on my friends anymore. I walked out of the school with a confidence I didn’t know I had. 

However, my confidence crumbled beneath me as I reached the gray area where Gerard’s apartment stood. The streets were always black here for some reason, whether it had rained the day before or not. I found it ironic that as I looked around at the bleakness of the alleyways behind the liquor store and the dilapidated dull appearance of the apartment building that inside all of this, inside the top floor in a small apartment lived such vivid life of colour. Not the shades that I was normally accustomed to. But real life colours; reds, purples, greens and oranges. Colours I could touch and feel, and now they were waiting for me.