"Try it," said Zac Efron, holding a beat up old motorcycle helmet and a little white pill. The helmet was dark green and sparkly, like a space ship from the 80s. I hesitated. I looked at Justin Bieber, whose smile was both friendly and sad. I was watching the entire scene from above, outside of my body. My little sister looked skeptical. She was the opposite of me in every way. I was willowy and shy with fine bones, a fair complexion and a pointed, elvish nose. She was sturdy and freckled, with a long pony-tail of thick brown hair.

I edged forward and he dropped the pill in my hand. I swallowed it and reached out for the helmet. When I put the helmet on I felt a great feeling of joy and freedom, wrapped up in a million colored balloon ribbons. "You feel good enough with that helmet on, you can make out with him" Zac said with a smirk, jerking his thumb at the Biebs. I had a far-away feeling that was supposed to be a good thing. Didn't everyone want to make out with Justin Bieber? I could tell all my friends! They invited me to take a train ride with them. The boat was owned by the American Girl Doll company, they said, and it stopped at all of these amazing destinations and all anyone did was wear the helmet and have fun. I agreed to come along. My sister took my arm and we followed them to the boat.

We sped through the countryside, and at each station we saw kids waving at us like we were in a parade. The platforms were decorated to look like Candyland and the children wore bright white pinafores. My sister described them all as we passed. I was delirious to be the center of attention for Justin and Zac. I was taking my turn with the helmet on, lying on the floor of the train, when suddenly Zac was there, kissing me. I thought it was supposed to have been Justin, but I just let him kiss me, not even believing that he could be so close.

When I took off the helmet everyone was just hanging around again, sitting on different levels in the candy-colored train. "Soon we'll get there and you can meet him," Zac said, "And you can tell him that you made out with Justin."

I was confused. Justin's face darkened. "I don't want to go back to see him so soon."

"Oh come on, Biebs," returned Zac, "he's our leader. We all love him." Zac turned to us. "He's great-- he invented the helmet!"

"Yeah, I know," said Justin, not meeting Zac's eyes, "but I just can't do it again right away. I was just there."

"Oh, whatever, you're such a baby." He threw the helmet at Justin, who flinched.

Zac motioned for me to come closer. I didn't move. "Come on, what are you waiting for?" Zac asked.

"She's blind, you idiots," my sister blurted out. My face flushed with embarrassment.

"She's blind?" Zac asked in astonishment. Now it made sense... the timid way I moved down new hallways, how I used my foot to feel the edge of the wall, the way my sister took me by the arm and described for me the things we passed in the train. The third-person view of the situation. In that moment other things came into my mind as well. David Bowie, the leader of their movement. The helmet made you feel happy. It shut out all pain. Their leader would put the helmet on the children and then beat them half unconscious, and they wouldn't try to stop him because they couldn't feel it. Justin was his favorite target. The helmet and the drug that went with it was addictive, but its hold on you diminished as you aged. Justin had started to feel the beatings through the helmet. He was afraid of Great Leader Bowie. The two of them had to attract new children to the cult so that the Great Leader could continue his work on more susceptible targets. I started to cry, horrified by the trick that they had played on me. Within my teenage mind was the double absurdity that my tears came mostly out of shame for my blindness, my trembling desire to be wanted and accepted by these popular boys, and my feelings of betrayal that Zac had kissed me not out of desire but only as a trick. I felt that by ignoring my normal feelings of vulnerability for a few hours I had beat them, but I had only made myself more vulnerable, and put my sister in danger as well. I started hitting Zac in the wild and angry but completely ineffective way that girls sometimes do, battering my fists against his chest like hammers as sobs overwhelmed me. "Why did you kiss me?" I screamed.

"Oh," he said softly, gently holding back my fists. "You are blind. The helmet doesn't work if you can't see. You knew it was me instead of Justin, didn't you?" He grimaced as if he were straining against a sudden feeling of pain. "Why did I kiss you? I wanted to kiss you, that's why. I imagined what it would have been like if you and I could run away together instead of going back to our Leader. I thought you would have the helmet on and you wouldn't remember." He kissed my tear-stained cheek and then turned away. "Give me the helmet," he said. Justin shook his head. Zac grabbed it from him and put it on his head. He shook out a pill. "Hit me, Justin."

"I'm not going to do it, Zac."

"Whatever, I'm not going to remember it anyway, hit me as hard as you want, I deserve it." His voice became hard. "I know you want to do it, Justin. I deserve it." He took Justin's hand and slammed it into the side of his own head.

The phone rang.

I saw around me my bed and my pillows and the ceiling. NO. NO I must figure out how the dream is going to end! NO. FUCK. I WAS MAKING OUT WITH ZAC EFRON. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

SO WHOEVER THE FUCK WAS CALLING ME AT noon o'clock in the morning, thanks a lot for fucking nothing because you ruined my Zac Efron make-out dream you asshole! Unless it was someone I know, or my family, or my boyfriend, in which case srryguyzIdidn'tgettothephonefastenoughtrycallingmeback. ^-^;;;

That sounds like a nightmare.
» thaitanic on 2012-06-30 08:06:56

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