This is my last post, and, as such, I know it'll be the first thing a casual visitor to this site sees. It's unfortunate that blogs post in reverse chronological order, because, with any story, the best place to begin is at the beginning.
With this story perhaps it would be best not to begin at all. I would delete this blog, except that I can't bring myself to destroy this record of a time in my life, and, more importantly, a time in the life of someone else, someone who was (and is) very close to me.
I think she wants her story to be out there, and there's no way I could disrespect her wishes at this point. Not after... well. Once you've heard her story, and mine, you'll understand. I hope.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Oh, she'll be there.
The official verdict is that Luna died by drowning after sleepwalking into the pond. Case closed. Sleepwalking is dangerous, the newspaper said in last week's article. People who sleepwalk are a danger to themselves and others. It's funny — well, not in the sense of being humorous — because the same can be said about people who are suicidal.
I know it had to be suicide. I'll take that information to my own grave, be it watery or otherwise, before admit it to Luna's parents. What matter, anyway? They don't want to hear me. They want to think it was a tragic accident, not something done purposefully, and if there's any blame to be had they want to shoulder it themselves.
The funeral was lovely. Or so I'm told. I didn't attend because I spent that day vomiting up everything I ate. It was a faked illness, or partly so. If you fake an illness, I suppose that isn't too different from being ill itself. Isn't a sign of sickness to want to convince others you're sick? I know I'm not well, too. Not physically, but spiritually, and perhaps mentally as well.
I feel as if I might be going crazy.
Last night I had a dream. I dreamed I saw Luna, sitting in her bedroom like she used to all the time when we would hang out. She looked faintly blue, and her eyes were dead and glassy. When she saw me, though, she smiled.
"Hi," she said, just like we had never had a fight. "You wanna hang out?"
"You're dead," I told her.
"I know," she said. Her hair and nightgown were still sopping wet, and her discolored skin glistened with water.
I sat down on the bed beside her and she put her arm around me. She felt cold and clammy.
"Do you want to hear about the moon?" she asked me.
"Sure," I said, because there wasn't really anything else to say. "Tell me about the moon."
"The moon is smaller than the Earth," Luna said, "but the moon is still important. It controls the water, you know? Tides. And humans are mostly water. People used to think the full moon could make the water rise up in you and drive you crazy."
"That's dumb," I told her. "Just an old myth."
She smiled again. The expression in those dead-fish eyes never changed.
"You're crazy, Loony," I told her, and my voice echoed hollowly in the room.
"I know," she said. "But you are, too. You can go crazy lots of different ways. Some people are born crazy. Some people go crazy. And some people — they sort of get forced into being crazy, because something happens to them and it drives them nuts."
"So which one were you?"
She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I'm nothing anymore, remember? I'm dead."
"You're still talking to me."
"I'm a ghost," she said. "To you, anyway. I'll probably talk to you again sometime, maybe lots of times. When you're asleep. When you're awake. It doesn't matter to me. You're my best friend, Jack, and I'll keep you company forever if I have to. Bad things happened to me when I was alive and I want to be sure that they don't happen to you."
I stood up. "I'm leaving, Luna. I'm not ever coming back."
"You don't need to," she said mildly. "I'll go where you go."
In her hands was the rock. It glowed softly and pulsed, thrumming out a quiet, steady heartbeat.
I keep expecting to see her now. I keep glancing over my shoulder, and around corners, and just waiting for her to show up. I've had such trouble believing she's gone, and, well... maybe that's because she isn't. Not to me, anyway. Does that sound crazy?
Small matter if it does, I guess. Crazy or not, it's my reality now. I live in a world where either the ghosts of dead girls walk the earth, or where the ghost of my former best friend walks my mind; whether actual or imaginary, the end result is the same. I'm stuck with her. I can't get away. She'll be here forever, or at least until the day I die.
I used to think that day would be so, so long away.
It doesn't feel so far-off anymore.
I know it had to be suicide. I'll take that information to my own grave, be it watery or otherwise, before admit it to Luna's parents. What matter, anyway? They don't want to hear me. They want to think it was a tragic accident, not something done purposefully, and if there's any blame to be had they want to shoulder it themselves.
The funeral was lovely. Or so I'm told. I didn't attend because I spent that day vomiting up everything I ate. It was a faked illness, or partly so. If you fake an illness, I suppose that isn't too different from being ill itself. Isn't a sign of sickness to want to convince others you're sick? I know I'm not well, too. Not physically, but spiritually, and perhaps mentally as well.
I feel as if I might be going crazy.
Last night I had a dream. I dreamed I saw Luna, sitting in her bedroom like she used to all the time when we would hang out. She looked faintly blue, and her eyes were dead and glassy. When she saw me, though, she smiled.
"Hi," she said, just like we had never had a fight. "You wanna hang out?"
"You're dead," I told her.
"I know," she said. Her hair and nightgown were still sopping wet, and her discolored skin glistened with water.
I sat down on the bed beside her and she put her arm around me. She felt cold and clammy.
"Do you want to hear about the moon?" she asked me.
"Sure," I said, because there wasn't really anything else to say. "Tell me about the moon."
"The moon is smaller than the Earth," Luna said, "but the moon is still important. It controls the water, you know? Tides. And humans are mostly water. People used to think the full moon could make the water rise up in you and drive you crazy."
"That's dumb," I told her. "Just an old myth."
She smiled again. The expression in those dead-fish eyes never changed.
"You're crazy, Loony," I told her, and my voice echoed hollowly in the room.
"I know," she said. "But you are, too. You can go crazy lots of different ways. Some people are born crazy. Some people go crazy. And some people — they sort of get forced into being crazy, because something happens to them and it drives them nuts."
"So which one were you?"
She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I'm nothing anymore, remember? I'm dead."
"You're still talking to me."
"I'm a ghost," she said. "To you, anyway. I'll probably talk to you again sometime, maybe lots of times. When you're asleep. When you're awake. It doesn't matter to me. You're my best friend, Jack, and I'll keep you company forever if I have to. Bad things happened to me when I was alive and I want to be sure that they don't happen to you."
I stood up. "I'm leaving, Luna. I'm not ever coming back."
"You don't need to," she said mildly. "I'll go where you go."
In her hands was the rock. It glowed softly and pulsed, thrumming out a quiet, steady heartbeat.
I keep expecting to see her now. I keep glancing over my shoulder, and around corners, and just waiting for her to show up. I've had such trouble believing she's gone, and, well... maybe that's because she isn't. Not to me, anyway. Does that sound crazy?
Small matter if it does, I guess. Crazy or not, it's my reality now. I live in a world where either the ghosts of dead girls walk the earth, or where the ghost of my former best friend walks my mind; whether actual or imaginary, the end result is the same. I'm stuck with her. I can't get away. She'll be here forever, or at least until the day I die.
I used to think that day would be so, so long away.
It doesn't feel so far-off anymore.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
I have to remind myself every few seconds. She's dead. That's what I keep thinking. The phrase doesn't feel like it means anything anymore.
My mother ungrounded me so I could go see Donna and Matt. I don't have the nerve to. I don't know how I possibly could have the nerve to.
I'm going to have to go to the funeral. That's going to be bad enough.
I hate the way I sound, writing about this. The words look so casually bland. They come as easily as they always do. Shouldn't it be different? Someone I knew is dead. Shouldn't that change the way I feel? Shouldn't I be crying and screaming right now?
Dead, though, it's like it isn't a word anymore. It's just four letters. I caught myself staring at the word and thinking it would be neater if it were "deed" or "daad" because it would be symmetrical.
Did I kill Luna? That's another phrase that means nothing anymore.
Erin doesn't know about this, of course. This is only local news, and she isn't local anymore now that she's off to college. I would tell her, but it would just be more evidence of what a horrible screw-up I am.
Luna might be dead because of me. Does it matter? Either way she's dead. Either way it's horrible and incomprehensible. I can't get my brain around it. She's really gone. There is no more Luna.
My mother ungrounded me so I could go see Donna and Matt. I don't have the nerve to. I don't know how I possibly could have the nerve to.
I'm going to have to go to the funeral. That's going to be bad enough.
I hate the way I sound, writing about this. The words look so casually bland. They come as easily as they always do. Shouldn't it be different? Someone I knew is dead. Shouldn't that change the way I feel? Shouldn't I be crying and screaming right now?
Dead, though, it's like it isn't a word anymore. It's just four letters. I caught myself staring at the word and thinking it would be neater if it were "deed" or "daad" because it would be symmetrical.
Did I kill Luna? That's another phrase that means nothing anymore.
Erin doesn't know about this, of course. This is only local news, and she isn't local anymore now that she's off to college. I would tell her, but it would just be more evidence of what a horrible screw-up I am.
Luna might be dead because of me. Does it matter? Either way she's dead. Either way it's horrible and incomprehensible. I can't get my brain around it. She's really gone. There is no more Luna.
Luna
I never thought I'd have to post here again. It's just that...
Luna's gone.
Not disappeared — gone, in the sense of won't ever come back — I don't want to have to type the word. It doesn't seem real and typing it makes it seem even less real.
I'll give it a try anyway. She's dead. Deceased. No longer with us. Passed on. Passed away. Dead. Drowned.
I feel numb writing this.
They found her yesterday morning. In the pond. I didn't learn about it until today. Dad told me. They called us, Donna and Matt, left a message. I can't bring myself to go listen to it...
Dad listened, though. He says Luna's parents said she sleepwalked into the pond. She's supposed to lock her door at night so she can't leave her room when she sleepwalks, but the door wasn't locked on the night of the fifteenth, when she... you know. The key was still on her nightstand.
The thought is that Luna walked down to the pond, asleep, fell in, and couldn't save herself. The pond is pretty deep. She wouldn't have been able to touch the bottom, and she can't swim. She was also wearing a long flannel nightgown, which would have gotten waterlogged and dragged her down.
Those are the facts. Key on the nightstand. Flannel nightgown. Couldn't swim. Sleepwalker.
And then there are the things I know. She was unhappy. She had just had a big fight with me. She was friendless, lonely. Her favorite album has several tracks about suicide, and the title track is about Ophelia, a girl who went mad and drowned.
One of her most precious possessions — yes, only a rock, but still precious to her — was thrown in that very pond. By me.
I could have helped her. Erin was right. I'm selfish, but if I wasn't, I could have showed Donna and Matt Luna's blog. I could have told them I was concerned about some of their daughter's behavior. I might have been able to save her.
Instead, did I help kill her?
I've gone numb, emotionally. I haven't cried for her yet and I don't know if I ever can. I still can't believe she's gone, you know, really gone, forever...
I have to give myself time to process this. I feel much, much too calm, but only because I can't feel anything else yet. I haven't had the time for it to sink in.
I can't believe this is real.
Luna's gone.
Not disappeared — gone, in the sense of won't ever come back — I don't want to have to type the word. It doesn't seem real and typing it makes it seem even less real.
I'll give it a try anyway. She's dead. Deceased. No longer with us. Passed on. Passed away. Dead. Drowned.
I feel numb writing this.
They found her yesterday morning. In the pond. I didn't learn about it until today. Dad told me. They called us, Donna and Matt, left a message. I can't bring myself to go listen to it...
Dad listened, though. He says Luna's parents said she sleepwalked into the pond. She's supposed to lock her door at night so she can't leave her room when she sleepwalks, but the door wasn't locked on the night of the fifteenth, when she... you know. The key was still on her nightstand.
The thought is that Luna walked down to the pond, asleep, fell in, and couldn't save herself. The pond is pretty deep. She wouldn't have been able to touch the bottom, and she can't swim. She was also wearing a long flannel nightgown, which would have gotten waterlogged and dragged her down.
Those are the facts. Key on the nightstand. Flannel nightgown. Couldn't swim. Sleepwalker.
And then there are the things I know. She was unhappy. She had just had a big fight with me. She was friendless, lonely. Her favorite album has several tracks about suicide, and the title track is about Ophelia, a girl who went mad and drowned.
One of her most precious possessions — yes, only a rock, but still precious to her — was thrown in that very pond. By me.
I could have helped her. Erin was right. I'm selfish, but if I wasn't, I could have showed Donna and Matt Luna's blog. I could have told them I was concerned about some of their daughter's behavior. I might have been able to save her.
Instead, did I help kill her?
I've gone numb, emotionally. I haven't cried for her yet and I don't know if I ever can. I still can't believe she's gone, you know, really gone, forever...
I have to give myself time to process this. I feel much, much too calm, but only because I can't feel anything else yet. I haven't had the time for it to sink in.
I can't believe this is real.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
I think maybe I'm going to stop blogging.
I'll miss it, but it's just becoming too painful for me. This blog reminds me of everything I've lost — my friendship with Luna, my friendship with Erin — and why I lost it. All this blog is is a record of everything I've done wrong.
I like to think I've learned from the experience, that I'll never repeat the same mistakes. But I know better than that. History repeats itself; history is the story of humans making the same mistakes over and over and over again. Every time we think we've learned and we never really have. Can I count myself above the entire human race here and say that I'll never make these mistakes again?
Erin is right, though. I'll never get anywhere if I don't keep trying. And that's why I think that, maybe next semester, I'm going to go back to public school.
Those kids who bullied me are older now. And if I can't believe that they've changed, I don't know how I can believe in myself to change.
I have to try to move on and start over.
Maybe I'll keep blogging, too, somewhere else. Maybe I'll get a Tumblr like Erin always wanted me to. I like blogging, but I don't think being on this blog is going to help me move on with my life. If anything, it's going to hold me back.
This is probably going to be my last post.
I like to think I've learned from the experience, that I'll never repeat the same mistakes. But I know better than that. History repeats itself; history is the story of humans making the same mistakes over and over and over again. Every time we think we've learned and we never really have. Can I count myself above the entire human race here and say that I'll never make these mistakes again?
Erin is right, though. I'll never get anywhere if I don't keep trying. And that's why I think that, maybe next semester, I'm going to go back to public school.
Those kids who bullied me are older now. And if I can't believe that they've changed, I don't know how I can believe in myself to change.
I have to try to move on and start over.
Maybe I'll keep blogging, too, somewhere else. Maybe I'll get a Tumblr like Erin always wanted me to. I like blogging, but I don't think being on this blog is going to help me move on with my life. If anything, it's going to hold me back.
This is probably going to be my last post.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
I can't believe this...
swerin: dude, I need to talk to you.
swerin: about luna.
Jack Q: I don't want to talk about her.
swerin: then just listen to me
swerin: this could be important
swerin: and by could be i mean it probably is
swerin: listen. i was going back through some of your old blog posts and i found the one where you linked to luna's blog, and, well
swerin: that's not her real blog in that link
Jack Q: What are you talking about?
swerin: lunacatblog dot wordpress
swerin: its not lunas real blog
Jack Q: Of course it's her "real blog", you're not making any sense.
Jack Q: Since when is there such a thing as a fake blog?
swerin: oh youd be surprised pal
swerin: it looks like she set this blog up as a sideblog so she could trick her parents into thinking it was her real one
swerin: and also so she could trick you apparently.
Jack Q: Erin, I really don't want to talk about Luna anymore.
Jack Q: Can we please talk about something else?
Jack Q: Anything else?
swerin: no let me finish. this might be important
swerin: if you go to the most recent post
swerin: the one with the lolcat pic captioned "i have seen the end" or something like that?
swerin: look at the comments
swerin: she commented on her own blog apparently to test the comments function
swerin: if you click on her username it takes u to her real blog
swerin: http://itsjustluna.wordpress.com/
swerin: are you reading it?
Jack Q: I don't want to. I don't want to have to think about Luna any more than I already do, Erin, could you please respect that?
swerin: what if i told u that some things are more important than your personal comfort level
swerin: for example that your former "friend" thinks her imaginary friends are the ghosts of real people
swerin: and that she hallucinates things
swerin: look at the post where she says she heard voices telling her terrible things and that her other ghost friend wouldnt protect her
swerin: thats crazy people talk
swerin: i think you need to get back in contact with luna's 'rents
swerin: show them her blog
swerin: so they can get her help
Jack Q: Erin, I am serious. I want no further involvement in this situation. I've done enough.
swerin: no you havent this is your chance to fix some of what you broke
swerin: you can get help for luna
swerin: come on man it aint so bad as you're making it out to be
Jack Q: It's every bit as bad as that.
Jack Q: I don't want to get reinvolved. It would be too painful to me to do so.
swerin: oh my shitting christ are you serious
swerin: i just told u a little girl needs psychiatric help and you wont help her get it because it'd be "too painful to you"
swerin: newsflash kid
swerin: NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU
swerin: you know that attitude is what wrecked everything to begin with
swerin: you valued personal gain (money/companionship) over someone elses right to not be lied to and taken advantage of
swerin: and you never listened to me because everything in your world is all "jack knows best"
swerin: and now all you're gonna do is whine and wallow in your own tears until someone rescues you from it
swerin: well im telling u what that someone aint gonna be me
swerin: talk to me when you have the guts to actually solve a problem on your own
swerin: i'm out
Jack Q: You can't be serious.
Jack Q: Erin, wait!
Jack Q: You're the only friend I've got. I'll try to listen to you more in the future, just please don't abandon me...
swerin: jack let's be honest
swerin: your friendship with me isn't too different from what u had w/luna
swerin: sure you knew i was asked to be your buddy
swerin: but the end result is the same
swerin: its not a friendship that happened naturally
swerin: theres no give and take here
swerin: you come to me when you want my help but when do we ever talk outside of that?
swerin: im not losing anything by not being friends with you the way you act right now
swerin: and you're not losing anything either because you don't realize it yet but the kind of friendship we have right now isn't worth shit
swerin: you're not a bad person jack im not saying that
swerin: but you need to learn to solve your own problems
swerin: until then i don't think we can be pals
Jack Q: Erin, please... you're all I've got...
swerin: jack
swerin: if you put yourself out there a little more
swerin: if you'd just have the guts to do that
swerin: you could be a great person
swerin: and you could do so much more and have so much more than you do right now
swerin: until you learn to have more courage and determination and ambition you're not gonna amount to much
swerin: thats the simple truth of it
swerin: i dont really have a grand final note to end this conversation on so im just gonna log off
swerin: so long jack
swerin: i wish you all the best of luck
swerin: about luna.
Jack Q: I don't want to talk about her.
swerin: then just listen to me
swerin: this could be important
swerin: and by could be i mean it probably is
swerin: listen. i was going back through some of your old blog posts and i found the one where you linked to luna's blog, and, well
swerin: that's not her real blog in that link
Jack Q: What are you talking about?
swerin: lunacatblog dot wordpress
swerin: its not lunas real blog
Jack Q: Of course it's her "real blog", you're not making any sense.
Jack Q: Since when is there such a thing as a fake blog?
swerin: oh youd be surprised pal
swerin: it looks like she set this blog up as a sideblog so she could trick her parents into thinking it was her real one
swerin: and also so she could trick you apparently.
Jack Q: Erin, I really don't want to talk about Luna anymore.
Jack Q: Can we please talk about something else?
Jack Q: Anything else?
swerin: no let me finish. this might be important
swerin: if you go to the most recent post
swerin: the one with the lolcat pic captioned "i have seen the end" or something like that?
swerin: look at the comments
swerin: she commented on her own blog apparently to test the comments function
swerin: if you click on her username it takes u to her real blog
swerin: http://itsjustluna.wordpress.com/
swerin: are you reading it?
Jack Q: I don't want to. I don't want to have to think about Luna any more than I already do, Erin, could you please respect that?
swerin: what if i told u that some things are more important than your personal comfort level
swerin: for example that your former "friend" thinks her imaginary friends are the ghosts of real people
swerin: and that she hallucinates things
swerin: look at the post where she says she heard voices telling her terrible things and that her other ghost friend wouldnt protect her
swerin: thats crazy people talk
swerin: i think you need to get back in contact with luna's 'rents
swerin: show them her blog
swerin: so they can get her help
Jack Q: Erin, I am serious. I want no further involvement in this situation. I've done enough.
swerin: no you havent this is your chance to fix some of what you broke
swerin: you can get help for luna
swerin: come on man it aint so bad as you're making it out to be
Jack Q: It's every bit as bad as that.
Jack Q: I don't want to get reinvolved. It would be too painful to me to do so.
swerin: oh my shitting christ are you serious
swerin: i just told u a little girl needs psychiatric help and you wont help her get it because it'd be "too painful to you"
swerin: newsflash kid
swerin: NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU
swerin: you know that attitude is what wrecked everything to begin with
swerin: you valued personal gain (money/companionship) over someone elses right to not be lied to and taken advantage of
swerin: and you never listened to me because everything in your world is all "jack knows best"
swerin: and now all you're gonna do is whine and wallow in your own tears until someone rescues you from it
swerin: well im telling u what that someone aint gonna be me
swerin: talk to me when you have the guts to actually solve a problem on your own
swerin: i'm out
Jack Q: You can't be serious.
Jack Q: Erin, wait!
Jack Q: You're the only friend I've got. I'll try to listen to you more in the future, just please don't abandon me...
swerin: jack let's be honest
swerin: your friendship with me isn't too different from what u had w/luna
swerin: sure you knew i was asked to be your buddy
swerin: but the end result is the same
swerin: its not a friendship that happened naturally
swerin: theres no give and take here
swerin: you come to me when you want my help but when do we ever talk outside of that?
swerin: im not losing anything by not being friends with you the way you act right now
swerin: and you're not losing anything either because you don't realize it yet but the kind of friendship we have right now isn't worth shit
swerin: you're not a bad person jack im not saying that
swerin: but you need to learn to solve your own problems
swerin: until then i don't think we can be pals
Jack Q: Erin, please... you're all I've got...
swerin: jack
swerin: if you put yourself out there a little more
swerin: if you'd just have the guts to do that
swerin: you could be a great person
swerin: and you could do so much more and have so much more than you do right now
swerin: until you learn to have more courage and determination and ambition you're not gonna amount to much
swerin: thats the simple truth of it
swerin: i dont really have a grand final note to end this conversation on so im just gonna log off
swerin: so long jack
swerin: i wish you all the best of luck
Dad said he'd tell my mother about what happened. He didn't. She asked about it today when Dad wasn't around, and so I was forced to tell her myself.
Now Mother's grounded me until Halloween to "teach me some respect". Whatever that's supposed to mean.
I don't really mind, I guess. It wasn't like I had anywhere to go anyway. I have no friends, I'm stuck at home all day long regardless. At least she didn't take away my computer.
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