<div>*장편입니당...^.^</div> <div> </div> <div> </div> <div> </div> <div> </div> <div> </div> <div>If you ask an average group of people what scares them most, you’d probably be able to guess most of the answers. Spiders, heights, clowns, public speaking…maybe a few oddballs like quicksand or being cheese-grated to death. But poll the average person and you’d find the same fears run through 99% of the population. </div> <div>보통 사람들한테 뭐가 제일 무섭냐고 물어보면 아마 뻔한 대답만 들을거야.</div> <div>거미, 높은 곳, 발표 등.. 그리고 어떤 또라이들은 모래늪이라던가.. 강판에 갈려서 죽는 것..이라고 대답할 수도 있고.</div> <div>근데 설문조사를 해보면 99%의 사람들이 무섭다고 대답하는 게 하나 있어.</div> <div>Not me though.</div> <div>I’m afraid of being happy.</div> <div>나는 해당사항 없지만.</div> <div>행복하다고 느낄 때 두렵거든.</div> <div>Not in the ‘my heart is an island’ bullshit way. I don’t spend my time listening to sappy songs and dissolving into some self-pitying pool of useless human. My dad was like that. He refused to be happy. All he did was complain. Nothing was good enough. Not even alcohol made him happy. Fucking loser.</div> <div>'사람은 혼자서 살 수 없어'같은 거 말고.</div> <div>그런 말도 안되는 노래나 들으며 잉여인간이라는 자책에 빠지는 편은 아냐.</div> <div>근데 우리 아빠는 그랬어.</div> <div>행복 자체를 거부했던 사람이거든.</div> <div>허구헌날 불평불만을 늘어놓고.</div> <div>뭐 하나 만족해 하는 법이 없었지.</div> <div>심지어는 술로도 해결을 못하더라고.</div> <div>아빠만 아니면 진짜 아오.</div> <div>No, I’m not like that. I would love to be happy. I’d give my life if I could have one purely happy moment. A second of bliss without any repercussions. To taste such a sweet minute probably wouldn’t make any sense to me. Like that story about the people in the cave. They came out walking on their hands. Misery is my cave and my hands are torn and bloody.</div> <div>분명 나는 아빠와 달라.</div> <div>행복해지고 싶거든.</div> <div>한순간이라도 온전히 행복할 수 있으면 내 목숨도 바칠 수 있을 정도로.</div> <div>아무런 방해도 받지 않는 찰나의 천국이랄까.</div> <div>근데 내가 과연 그런 달콤한 순간을 느낄 수나 있을까.</div> <div>동굴에서 살았다는 사람들 이야기처럼 말야.</div> <div>손으로 걸어서 나왔대.</div> <div>비참함은 내 동굴이고 내 손은 찢기로 피로 얼룩졌어.</div> <div>It started when I was a kid. I don’t remember much until around the age of seven. Before that is mostly a blur of my father yelling and my mother apologizing. Nothing felt safe or comfortable. I once watched the movie “Homeward Bound.” You know, the one with the dogs and the cat? All of the kids in that movie were so lucky. They had parents who love them, a solid home, and even some death-defying pets as a damn cherry on top. I wonder what that would have been like.</div> <div>내가 어렸을 때부터였어.</div> <div>7살이 되기 전은 잘 기억이 안나는데.</div> <div>어렴풋이 아빠는 고함을 지르고 엄마는 사과를 하던 모습이 기억 나.</div> <div>한 번도 마음편히 있어본 적이 없었어.</div> <div>"집으로 가는 길"이라는 영화를 보고 있었는데 거기 보면 개랑 고양이를 키우던 애 있잖아?</div> <div>그 영화에 나오는 애들은 전부 어찌나 복이 많은지.</div> <div>부모님들이 사랑해주고, 화목한 가정에, 심지어 걔네가 키우는 애완동물도 죽는 법이 없었다니까.</div> <div>어떤 느낌일지 정말 궁금했어.</div> <div>My first concrete memory was when I brought home a stray kitten. He was orange and black. I didn’t name him. I was too afraid of losing him to really enjoy him. He hid under my bed all day and I fell asleep. When I woke up he had slipped out the door. My dad killed him with a hammer. He claimed he thought it was a rat. The kitten’s dead body was still on the carpet when I walked into the living room that morning. My mom cleaned it up without comment. I must have cried for days.</div> <div>내가 뚜렷하게 기억하는 가장 어렸을 때 일 중에 길고양이를 주워왔던 적이 있었어.</div> <div>주황색이랑 검정색이 섞여있었고 이름은 지어주지 않았어.</div> <div>고양이를 잃는다는 두려움 때문에 거리를 둔거지.</div> <div>내 방 침대 밑에 숨어서 하루 종일 잠만 잤었어.</div> <div>근데 어느 날 잠에서 깨어나보니 열린 문 밖으로 나갔더라고.</div> <div>아빠가 망치로 때려죽인 뒤였지.</div> <div>고양이가 아니고 쥐새낀 줄 알았다나.</div> <div>그 날 아침에 거실로 나갔을 때 죽은 채로 카펫위에 덩그러니 널부러져 있었어.</div> <div>엄마가 한마디 말씀도 없이 치워주셨고.</div> <div>나는 며칠을 울었던 것 같아.</div> <div>So yeah, that’s what my childhood was like. I didn’t know about happiness. The closest I ever got was a big meal or a night when my dad was out at the bar. Even then mom didn’t do much in the way of loving. She kept her distance from me. I never really understood her.</div> <div>I made a friend once, in the beginning of middle school. Her name was Keisha and she had thick pigtails. That’s all I remember about her now. I was hesitant at first. No one showed me much kindness so when she offered to share her sandwich with me I instantly was suspicious. It took a few days for me to truly accept her friendship. I think I smiled wider than I ever had before.</div> <div>하. 이게 내 어린 시절이야.</div> <div>행복에 뭔지 전혀 몰랐어.</div> <div>가장 행복에 근접했을 때는 내가 맛있는 식사를 했다거나 아빠가 술집에 가서 밤늦게까지 안왔을 때 정도랄까.</div> <div>심지어 엄마도 그렇게까지 날 생각해주는 편이 아니었어.</div> <div>나랑 늘 거리를 뒀었지.</div> <div>정말 이해할 수가 없어.</div> <div>중학교에 가서는 친구를 사귄 적도 있었는데 이름은 케이샤였고 머리를 길게 땋아 늘어뜨리고 다녔었어.</div> <div>지금 그거 말곤 기억나는 점이 없다.</div> <div>처음에는 좀 망설였었어.</div> <div>아무도 나한테 친절하지 않았는데 나한테 샌드위치 한조각을 건네주길래 뭔가 싶었거든.</div> <div>케이샤한테 마음을 여는데 며칠이 걸렸을거야.</div> <div>그 때만큼 활짝 웃었던 적이 없었지.</div> <div>A few minutes later an older kid stabbed Keisha with a pencil. Right through her eye. It stuck out like an awkward tree branch. Her eyeball was a deflated balloon. Everyone was screaming and the older kid was just babbling incoherently. I think he got off with a warning, since we were so young. He said he didn’t know why he did it. He just felt like he had to. Keisha’s parents pulled her out of school and I never saw her again. </div> <div>The kitten, Keisha…when I felt happy, something awful happened. Even a small thing, like a good grade, was rewarded with my teacher miscarrying in front of the entire class. A pretty girl invited me to a party at her house, and the entire building went up in flames only ten minutes before I arrived. My joy was always someone else’s misery. I tried to talk to my mom about it but she slammed her bedroom door in my face. </div> <div>근데 갑자기 어떤 애가 연필로 케이샤의 눈을 찔렀어.</div> <div>연필은 그대로 박힌 채 케이샤의 눈이 풍선이 터지듯 푹 꺼졌고.</div> <div>모두들 놀라서 소리를 지르고 그 애는 이상한 말만 중얼거리고 있었어.</div> <div>내 기억엔 나이가 너무 어려서 경고조치로 끝났던 거 같아. </div> <div>고양이, 케이샤.. 내가 행복을 느끼면.. 꼭 안좋은 일이 일어났어.</div> <div>성적이 잘나왔는데 알고보니 선생님이 착각했던가 하는... 그것도 친구들이 다 있는 교실에서.</div> <div>예쁘장한 친구가 나를 집으로 초대한 적이 있었는데 도착하고 보니 건물 전체가 화염에 휩싸여있다던가.</div> <div>내가 즐거울 때는 반드시 누군가가 끔찍한 일을 겪어야 했어.</div> <div>엄마한테 얘기하려고 했더니 문을 쾅 닫아버리더라고.</div> <div>I dropped out of school the next day.</div> <div>I spent the next few years living in my parent’s house, enduring the abuse of my father and the neglect of my mother. I worked in various fast food joints. It was a daily routine of overflowing sadness. I suppose it wasn’t much different than my childhood.</div> <div>I didn’t fully put it together until the incident. The big one – the one that made it all clear. I was working at Taco Bell at the time. It was going fine except for those stupid purple shirts they made us wear. But on this particular day, everything was going wrong. Customers were yelling, we ran out of beef, and my manager decided to make my life hell. I was beaten down from the minute I walked in.</div> <div>Even though I had to stay two extra hours to cover someone else’s shift, I made it out before 5pm. I walked home quietly as usual. On the way, someone threw a soda at me from their car. They must have seen the Taco Bell shirt and thought it would be funny. It wasn’t. I walked the rest of the way home soaking wet.</div> <div>그 다음날 나는 학교를 그만 두고 아빠의 학대와 엄마의 무관심을 견디며 부모님 집에서 살았어.</div> <div>패스트푸드 음식점에서 일했었고.</div> <div>매일이 슬픔이 가득차 흘러 넘쳤지.</div> <div>어린 시절과 크게 다를 바가 없는거야.</div> <div>그 사고가 있기 전까지 정신 못차리고 살았는데.</div> <div>뭐랄까.. 그제서야 눈을 떴달까.</div> <div>타코벨에서 근무할 때 일어난 일인데.</div> <div>여느 날과는 조금 달랐어. </div> <div>제대로 되는 일이 하나도 없었거든.</div> <div>손님들이 고성을 치고, 식재료가 바닥나고, 매니저가 나를 아작을 냈지.</div> <div>가게로 들어가자마자 두들겨 맞아 쓰러졌어.</div> <div>다른 사람 근무시간을 채워줘야 해서 두시간은 더 있어야 했는데 그냥 나와버렸어.</div> <div>평소처럼 걸어서 집으로 걸어가는데 누군가 달리는 차에서 나한테 콜라를 던졌어.</div> <div>내가 타코벨 유니폼을 입고 있으니까 재밌겠다 싶었나봐.</div> <div>흠뻑 젖은채로 집까지 마저 걸었어.</div> <div>To this day I wonder if my day had gone better maybe all of it never would have materialized. If that jerk hadn’t thrown a drink at me maybe it would have just been a normal terrible day. But it’s stupid to think about what ifs. What happened is what was meant to happen. </div> <div>And anyways – it was bound to happen sometime.</div> <div>I got home and found my mother on the floor, a large bruise spreading like fire over the side of her jaw. My dad’s fists were still balled. The look of rage in his eyes was nothing new, but he had never hit her before. Things had been thrown and words had been screamed – but never this. It never got physical.</div> <div>오늘까지도 궁금해.</div> <div>만약 아빠가 제대로 살았다면 나쁜 일은 하나도 일어나지 않았을지도 모르겠다고.</div> <div>나한테 술병을 던지지 않았다면 언제나 그렇듯 일진이 나쁜 평범한 하루였을지도 모르겠다고.</div> <div>그렇게 생각해봤자 무슨 소용이겠어.</div> <div>어차피 언젠가는 어떤 식으로든 벌어졌을 일인데.</div> <div>집에 오니까 엄마가 턱에 시퍼런 멍이 든 채로 바닥에 쓰러져 있었어.</div> <div>여전히 주먹질을 하고 다녔으니까.</div> <div>두 눈에 분노가 가득차있었지만 그대로 엄마를 때린 적은 없었거든.</div> <div>살림살이를 부수고 고성이 오갔어도 한번도 손찌검을 하지 않았었는데.</div> <div>Something snapped in me. My entire life came crashing down onto my spine. I was done. So I charged him. I slammed my entire body into his. He toppled over like a beer bottle. His skull struck the linoleum of the kitchen. It made a sickening smack. My mother was yelling, “Stop! Stop it!” But it had already been done. He wasn’t moving. </div> <div>She stood slowly. “What the hell did you do?”</div> <div>갑자기 이성의 끈이 탁하고 끊어지면서 내 삶이 한꺼번에 무너져버렸어.</div> <div>있는 힘껏 아빠를 밀쳤는데.</div> <div>중심을 잃고 비틀거리더니 싱크대 모서리에 머리를 박고 쓰러진거야.</div> <div>깨지는 소리가 정말 끔찍했어.</div> <div>엄마가 그만하라고 소리치고 있었고 아빠는 움직임이 없었지.</div> <div>"너 대체 무슨 짓을 한거야?"</div> <div>Drool dripped from the corner of my mouth. “He deserved it.” Something foreign tickled the back of my throat.</div> <div>“You fucking idiot.” She went over to him and pressed two fingers to his neck. “He’s dead.”</div> <div>I smiled. It was a pure, genuine smile. It felt unnatural on my face. I was immobile. The happiness shot through my veins like heroin. He was dead. I had ended this miserable bastard’s reign of idiocy. </div> <div>My mom turned to me. She flicked her bangs out of her eyes. “You have no idea what you just did.”</div> <div>The coolness of her voice shook me out of my happiness coma. “It was an accident.”</div> <div>“That doesn’t matter.” She reached to the counter and produced a small steak knife. </div> <div>“Ma, what are you doing?” I stepped towards her. “I’ll call the police. It’s my fault. You won’t get in trouble.”</div> <div>“I needed him.” Without any emotion she drew the knife across her chest.</div> <div>“Ma, stop!” I was afraid to move closer to her, afraid she would hurt herself worse.</div> <div>“I probably should have told you sooner.” She sliced her face. The shallow cuts drew thin tendrils of blood. “But I thought maybe it had skipped a generation.” The knife dug into her leg. “There is a letter in my bedside table. The lower drawer has a fake bottom.” She cut her ear with one smooth motion. “Read it after I’m done.”</div> <div>By this time I had overcome my fear and was next to her, trying to grab the knife. She wrestled with me, but I managed to knock the blade away. ‘Ma, what are you doing?! You need a doctor!”</div> <div>“I have to!” she screamed. “I can’t stop!” She flailed against me but I was stronger. Her blood got onto my clothes. She spit in my eyes and for a second I loosened my grip. My mom ducked away and ran to the bathroom. She locked herself inside. I pounded on the door but the lock held.</div> <div>“Why are you doing this?” I pleaded.</div> <div>Her voice did not waver. “You’re doing this to me. It’s because of you.”</div> <div>Quickly I dialed 911. I tried to explain what was happening but the responder stopped me. “Do you live near Ashland Ave?”</div> <div>I paused in surprise. “How did you…”</div> <div>“Officers are on their way. Please do not leave your home.” She hung up on me. </div> <div>I kept the receiver to my ear long after her voice was gone. That’s when I heard the gunshots. Not from my house, but from the one next door. And then, like a slap of a conductor’s wand, a chorus of screams filled the air. They were coming from all directions. I dropped the phone and it broke into pieces on the floor, bits scattering all the way to my dad’s dead body. I saw a small river of blood oozing from under the bathroom door. </div> <div>“Mom?”</div> <div>I knew she wouldn’t reply. There were enough razor blades in the bathroom to shred her veins.</div> <div>The screaming continued. More gunshots. Police sirens. Any small piece of happiness remaining from the death of my dad was gone. It was replaced with something akin to numbness. Mechanically I walked upstairs into my parents’ bedroom. The noises outside were drowned out by the robotics of my thoughts. The bedside table stood mockingly low. I bent down and opened the lower drawer. It slid out easily. I hooked my fingernails around the bottom and peeled it up. Beneath it was a single sheet of paper.</div> <div><strong>Son,</strong></div> <div><strong>You must hate me. At least I hope you do. I have done everything I can do make you hate me. I can’t get myself to hit you – that’s a failing on my part. But your father will be brutal enough for us both. I won’t apologize for your life because even though I’m responsible, it had to be this way.</strong></div> <div><strong>I grew up exactly the same. I know that’s not much consolation to you. But I promise our family has been living in misery for generations. It might as well be part of our DNA.</strong></div> <div><strong>It is our DNA that’s the problem. Well, specifically our pheromones. Did you know that pheromones change depending on your mood? You can’t notice these changes but they exist. Humans gives off different pheromones and without anyone knowing, it affects those around us.</strong></div> <div><strong>Our family is…unique. I guess you could say our pheromones are stronger than average humans. It only happens when we feel happiness. Any small joyful emotion goes out into the world and creates chaos. It has always been that way for us. Your grandmother tried to find out why, but if she got anywhere close to an answer the destruction her happiness would cause was too much to bare. Her joy made an entire hospital of women miscarry. Every single woman. Many of them also became barren. Just because of her pheromones.</strong></div> <div><strong>So you have to understand – I know how awful your father is. That’s why I picked him. I have to be miserable in order to protect everyone else. You were never supposed to be born. I wanted the line to end with me. But when I got pregnant…an abortion would have made me happy, so I couldn’t do it. I had to give birth to you. You are a horrible, terrible mistake.</strong></div> <div><strong>I’m writing this on your first birthday. You have been laughing a lot recently – it’s been awful. The neighborhood dogs are getting sick. I had to feed you expired food to get you to cry more. I hate you. I have to hate you.</strong> </div> <div><strong>So now you know. We can’t be happy. It’s impossible. It will cause too much pain and death.</strong></div> <div><strong>I can’t even kill myself. The relief of it being over might cause a genocide…</strong></div> <div><strong>Do what you want with this information. Just make the right choice. Your happiness is not as important as the world around you. Don’t be selfish. Your lifetime of misery is meaningless.</strong></div> <div><strong>So is mine.</strong></div> <div>The outcome of my happiness caused the deaths of over fifty people and injured a hundred more. It affected everyone within 500 feet. My next-door neighbor killed his entire family with a shotgun. Two runners got hit by a car, who then went on to crash into a tree. A group of pre-school kids swallowed bleach. So many people died or were hurt, just because I was happy my dad was dead. My few moments of bliss caused untold damage.</div> <div>My mother died of blood loss. She was smiling when the police got the door open. </div> <div>This is why I’m afraid of being happy. </div> <div>So now I am completely alone; the deaths of those people weigh heavily on me every single day. I can’t escape it. I don’t want to. If I forget, or give myself even a minute to breath, I might hurt someone else. And this is how I will exist until I die. Alone, miserable, and safe from happiness.</div> <div>But there is one more thing. One more brick of guilt that closes me up inside.</div> <div>I know about our family’s curse – but my older brother, the one who ran away at thirteen, doesn’t.</div> <div><a target="_blank" href="https://www.facebook.com/EZmisery/" target="_blank">I wonder how many people he’s killed without knowing it….</a></div>
<img src="http://thimg.todayhumor.co.kr/upfile/201510/1444748496223.gif" alt="1444748496223.gif">
There was no reason to expect it, despite the fact that it had been prowling in the back of my mind for a very long time.
When you leave behind one life for another, it is always with the expectation that you must learn to balance the two in some way, shape, or . Some people can make this transition smoothly, can integrate their memories and affections and damning sentiments into a new framework. These people are lucky. For others, the integration is rocky, consisting of the pushes and pulls of change.
And then there are some for which the two are mutually exclusive, where the past life is forgotten completely to make room for new possibilities. For those who choose this path – or are forced onto it by circumstance – the cost is usually negligible. Perhaps it is even desired.
To forget.
아주 오랫동안 가슴 한구석을 차지하고 있었지만 전혀 기대하고 있지는 않았다.
삶이 완전히 바뀔 때 언젠가는 절단된 삶 가운데서 어떻게든 줄다리기를 할 수 있지 않을까 기대한다.
변화를 무탈하게 하는 사람도 있고, 과거의 모습을 현재에 삶에 잘 녹여내는 사람도 있다.
운이 좋은 편이라고 할 수 있다.
어떤 사람은 변화의 격동 속에서 마구 흔들리기도 한다.
그리고 두가지 삶이 완전히 서로 달라 과거는 완전히 잊고서 그 자리에 새로운 삶을 채우는 사람도 있다.
이 방식을 택한 사람이 치르는 댓가는 그리 크지 않다. 어쩌면 가장 이상적일 수도 있다.
완전히 잊으면 되니까.
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I grew up in a small community. It’s nothing special, located in a corner of rural Minnesota, where nothing much happens and life for most people consists of the tending of cows and fields. It is the kind of place that goes unnoticed by the outside world, which suits the locals just fine, they don’t like outsiders, anyway. People like me know that very well. The town is obscure and unimportant, and one would never see it on the morning news unless something very, very bad had happened.
Well, that morning, it was on the news.
That wasn’t how I found out, of course. No, I was still in bed when everything started, sleeping, dreaming about sinking into my pillows and breathing in the cotton. I was startled awake –rather rudely, I might add – by the shrill beeping of my cell phone.
My alarm wasn’t due to scream for another hour yet, so you can imagine my annoyance. I sucked it up, however, and reached for the offending piece of shit, trying to bite back the choice words I had for the caller.
I glanced at the caller ID – Todd Inlet, cousin from my father’s side of the family. He was just about my age, though we were never particularly close. He, like most of his immediate family, had chosen to stay in the town after graduation, enrolling in the police force and spending his days writing petty speeding tickets and bitching about sports with his cop buddies over coffee. So why the fuck was he calling me at nine in the morning on a Wednesday?
“Yeah?” I answered, trying to keep the grogginess out of my voice and failing.
The response was more of a snarl than anything else, rocketing through my phone and assaulting my ear. “Taylor Denson.”
And just like that, I knew.
나는 미네소타의 어느 작은 시골 마을에서 자랐다.
특별할 것도 없고, 특별한 일도 없고, 작물을 키우고 소를 돌볼 뿐 그다지 특별한 일을 하는 사람도 없었다.
바깥세상에서 보기엔 전혀 눈에 띄지 않는 곳이었다.
어차피 마을 사람들도 외부인을 좋아하지 않기 때문에 적격인 셈이다.
큰 일이 일어나서 뉴스에 나오지 않는 이상 왠만해서는 이곳을 들어볼 일이 없다.
그런데 그 날 아침 마을이 뉴스에 나왔다.
내가 직접 뉴스를 보지는 못했지만 그 때 당시 나는 아직 침대에서 비몽사몽하던 상태였다.
휴대폰이 신경질나게 울려대서 짜증이 났는데 알람이 아니라 누가 전화를 걸고 있었다.
어떤 새끼가 아침부터 전화질인지 발신자를 확인해봤다.
토드 인렛, 친가 쪽 사촌이다.
내 또래이지만 딱히 친하지도 않다.
대부분의 친척들이 그렇듯 토드도 졸업 후 고향에 남기로 결정했었다.
경찰로 근무하면서 과속 딱지를 끊거나 동료들과 스포츠 중계를 보는 등 별볼일 없는 일만 했다.
근데 이 시바랄이 왜 수요일 아침 아홉시부터 전화질이냐고!
"왜?"
잠긴 목소리를 가다듬으려고 했지만 잘 되지 않았다.
들려온 대답은 혼란스럽기 그지 없었다.
휴대폰에서 튀어나와 내 귀에 꽂힌 한마디.
"테일러가.."
나는 바로 직감했다.
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I like to take my time getting ready in the mornings. I take long showers. I put on makeup. I try on my different outfits. I play with my jewelry. I use that time to feel ready for my day.
Apparently, when I need to, I can be out the door in less than five minutes.
When those words thundered in through my cell phone, the words I’d been waiting to hear for ten years now, I’d shot out of bed, pulled on some fresh clothes, brushed my teeth, ignored my hair, swiped my car keys, and ran for it.
I wish I’d been more prepared, but it wasn’t something I could bare to prepare for. It was an eventuality, but one that was going to break my heart, and nobody prepares for a broken heart, do they?
Taylor Denson.
It was only an hour to my hometown, but I expected to make it in half the time as my foot drove down hard on the gas pedal. I raced down the highway, hoping to avoid the cops or that they’d already been ined of my… situation. Any second of delay could be a second too long.
As I flew down the road, my mind flew back to a time when I hadn’t been so adept at hiding from my problems. Back to the root of the trouble from which sprang the future that I had grown for myself.
Back to Taylor.
* * *
아침에 천천히 외출 준비를 하는 편이다.
샤워도 오래하고, 화장도 하고, 어제와 다른 옷을 고르고, 어울리는 악세사리를 이것저것 대어본다.
하루를 보낼 준비가 됐다고 느낄 때까지.
그래도 빨리 나가야 할 때는 5분이면 충분하다.
토드의 대답이, 족히 십 년은 기다려온 바로 그 이름이 휴대폰에서 벼락이 되어 내리치자 마자
침대에서 튀어나와 옷을 주워입고 양치를 한 후 머리는 대충 묶어버린 다음 자동차 키를 챙겨 밖으로 향했다.
마음의 준비가 아직 안되었는데.. 그렇다고 준비를 할 수 있는 일도 아니다.
결국 내 심장이 산산히 부서지겠지.. 이걸 어떻게 대비할 수 있겠어?
테일러 덴슨.
우리집 본가까지는 한시간 정도 걸리지만 악셀을 최대한 밟으면 30분이면 갈 수 있는 거리였다.
경찰이 도로에 없길 바라며, 어쩌면 소식을 들었을지도 모르지만 어쨋든 고속도로를 엄청난 속도로 달렸다.
1초가 10년같이 느껴졌다.
도로 위를 질주하면서 내 기억도 빠르게 과거를 향하고 있었다.
내가 자초한.. 언젠간 터져도 터졌을.. 문제의 핵심으로..
타일러에게로..
She and I weren’t so different, and that’s what had been eating away at me for so long.
It was natural that we’d find each other. We were both considered outsiders and, as such, subject to the harsher treatment of the townsfolk.
For me, it was my mother. She was from out of town, and the whole community was in an uproar when my father married her. She wasn’t even from nearby – she was from about six states away, and heaven knows why the hell she chose to move out to the middle of Bumfuck, Minnesota, but she had, and so here I was. I couldn’t have missed the sneers and suspicious glares if I’d wanted to. And I didn’t want to. It was safer, to know that this wasn’t my home, this wasn’t a place I was welcome, only a place that I was forced to occupy until I could escape.
타일러와 나는 너무도 달랐고 때문에 나는 오랫동안 너무도 괴로웠다.
우리는 자연스럽게 서로를 알게 됐다.
마을에서 둘 다 외부인 취급을 당했고, 마을 사람들의 고약한 태도도 감내해야 했다.
나는 엄마 때문에 이렇게 됐다.
우리 아빠와 결혼을 하면서 마을로 오면서 큰 소란이 있었다.
근처도 아니고 여섯개의 주를 건너서 온 외부인이었기 때문이다.
그런 촌동네까지 뭣하러 오겠다고 했는지 이해할 수가 없다.
하지만 엄마는 선택을 했고 그래서 내가 태어나게 됐다.
사람들의 조롱과 냉대는 아무리 해도 피할 수 없었다.
그저 다 내려놓고 이 마을은 내가 있을 곳이 아니고 그저 탈출하기 전까지만 구속되어있을 뿐이라고 생각했다.
Taylor’s story was different, but the same in all the ways that mattered. Her family had moved into the community, living in what was little more than a shack on the outskirts of town. Her father was a laborer, worked a lot with his hands, which were always caked with dirt. Her mother sewed her own clothing from worn old scraps of fabric. Taylor’s clothing consisted of much the same, and the few times I went to her house I was able to tell that her nicest dress was cut from the same fabric as the drapes on the kitchen window.
Two little outside girls, living in a cold and quiet hellscape. It’s no wonder that we found each other. It’s no wonder that we hid from everyone else.
타일러의 경우는 조금 달랐다.
온가족이 마을로 이사와 가장 변두리 지역에 자리를 잡았다.
아버지는 노동일을 하셔서 언제나 손이 흙투성이었다.
어머니는 오래된 천을 직접 손바느질해서 옷을 지으셨는데 그 때문인지 테일러의 옷은 늘 비슷비슷 했었다.
테일러의 집으로 놀러갔을 때 보았던 가장 예쁜 옷은 부엌 창문 가리개로 만든 드레스였다.
지옥구덩이에서 사는 두 명의 어린 외부인.
자연스럽게 서로 가까워졌고, 자연스럽게 다른 사람들에 눈에 띄지 않도록 숨었다.
She moved to our town in the second grade. She and I found each other almost immediately. There was some sameness inside us that drew us to each other. I remember thinking that I could see it in her eyes, some kind of light that sparked when she glanced at me. Her eyes were my favorite. They were so comforting, big, beautiful. They were green, I remember, how could I forget? I only felt noticed, felt alive, when they were looking at me.
Of course, I also felt watched.
We became fast friends on her very first day in class. I knew it was something special from the moment she introduced herself to all the students and I found that I COULDN’T forget her name, not even if I tried. She was already inside my head, not by trying, simply by existing. That’s how I knew we were meant for each other.
Of course, sometimes these connections can bring as much misery as they can bring happiness.
As we grew older, the town hated us more and more. Of course they did – why would they hold any love for outsiders like us? My own extended family treated me with a strange distance that I had learned to understand at a young age. Sure, we wanted to be accepted, loved… but that could never happen. We had to find that love within ourselves. Within each other.
That meant, however, that we directed our hatred towards THEM.
It’s not that they didn’t deserve it. Anyone remotely different who grew up in a small town can assure you that the bastards deserve the hatred they receive. But the thing about hatred is that it’s a double-edged sword. It hurts the wielder as much as the victim.
Their hatred poisoned us, and it poisoned the love we had for each other. We held on to each other with a vise-like grip and, soon, began to feel strong enough to change something. To change THEM.
Madness.
We continued down our little hole of madness. By the time I was in high school, I was severely depressed and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Taylor. Taylor wasn’t much better, although her family didn’t really notice what she had become. We could find comfort in each other, though. A twisted of comfort that I can’t describe, even now.
Things changed one day halfway through our freshman year.
“They’re bastards – every last one of them,” Taylor said.
I mumbled an agreement. We were sitting in my room, playing video games, trying to forget the awful day of school we’d had – we’d been attacked walking to my house, not that unusual but I’d sustained a pretty hard hit to my midsection and it was going to be difficult to hide the pain from my parents once they got home.
“There’s nothing we could do to them that they wouldn’t deserve,” she said.
And that caught my attention. “Like… what?”
Taylor turned those eyes on me and they pinned me in place, our game left forgotten on the screen. “Think for a moment. Think about what they’ve done to us. All these years, they’ve tortured us, and they’ve enjoyed every minute of it. Haven’t they?”
It was true. It hurt, but it was true. “What of it?” I knew better than to think that we could fight back – I’d learned the hard way that we didn’t hold any power, and only the ones in power got to cause pain.
“Your father has a gun,” she said in a low voice.
That was the moment that everything changed. The moment I knew, the moment I made the decision…
That was the real moment I betrayed her.
Less than a week later, I had started at a new school a few towns over. No one knew me and the town was big enough that no one cared. They were kind. I was a bit strange but eventually I fit in.
None of us – my family and myself included – ever spoke her name again.
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That was where my recollection ended. As I pulled onto the exit ramp for our little town, I firmly put a stop to the end of the story. No, it had been over ten years since I’d made my decision. One that I knew Taylor could never forgive. I wasn’t going to replay it in my head again, not today, or at least not yet. I was sure that she’d remind me when I saw her, anyway, so why torture myself now?
Once I turned onto the highway leading into town, I was met with an escort. Two of the town’s police cars preceded me as we headed for the school.
That goddamn school.
It had been years since I’d been back, but if I closed my eyes, I could see everything as clear as day. The blue lockers lining the hallway, the cold linoleum floors, the front office with its glass windows that surveyed everything. I’d hoped that I’d never have to see it again anywhere other than my worse nightmares, but here I was. In less than an hour, probably, I’d be seeing it all over again.
She knew that this was hell for me. That’s why she did it.
Once we reached the school, I saw every cop car from the five closest counties lined up outside. Police dotted the area in multitudes but none of them seemed to quite know what to do – it was almost as though they were waiting for something. The parents standing outside were angry about it, too. Some of them, the ones that weren’t crying and having mental breakdowns, were screaming at the cops to fucking DO something already, Jesus Christ our KIDS are in there!
They didn’t know that the cops were waiting for me.
Todd was next to me the instant I stepped out of the car. He looked exhausted – being related to me does that, I suppose, especially when I am the one connection to Taylor that matters. Or, at least, mattered at that moment.
“Lily, thanks for coming,” he said. He didn’t mean it, but he didn’t really know what else to say. Like I said, we were never close. Not many people would willingly ostracize themselves for my sake, not even my own family.
I decided to cut the shit, because I just couldn’t deal with it that day. “No, you’re not, Todd, because me being here isn’t exactly how you all wanted this to go, is it? How the hell did you convince your partners of this? You and I both know this isn’t protocol.”
No, what we were about to do wasn’t protocol. And I knew damn well how he’d convinced them, but I wanted to hear it. I wanted to hear if he’d give me an honest answer or if he’d lie to me.
“There wasn’t any other option. She’s demanding it. She’s got kids hostage. Lily, some of them are only seven or eight! Besides, we… we are going to take every possible precaution.”
I listened as the lies spilled out of his lips like he’d rehearsed them and then realized that, probably, he had. I wanted to scream at him, no, you guys don’t give a shit if she kills me, it would probably be a godsend if I were to die in this fucked up situation, too. You’re sending me in because you want to punish me for having known her. Because you want someone else to deal with the mess that you unknowingly created. Because you can’t take responsibility, you goddamn cowards.
Instead, I asked, “Why didn’t you just send someone in to shoot her? You have men trained to do just that.”
I didn’t expect Todd’s answer, I’ll admit, and it froze me for just a moment. Of course, Taylor would know how to get my attention. “She’s… she’s holding one of them. Sitting in the front of the room with the kid on her lap, a gun pressed to his head. We couldn’t risk it.”
I had never actually seen Todd so shook up. He is usually the epitome of calm and collected – which helps a lot when you’re a cop – but he looked absolutely terrified in that moment. And in his eyes, I did see a flash of guilt for sending me in to deal with the situation. But wait, the guilt was something more, there was something he wasn’t telling me…
“You’re sending me in without a gun,” I said.
He didn’t try to dodge the question this time, he just nodded. “You’ll have a bullet-proof vest on, make no mistake, but she demanded that you come unarmed. If she thinks that you have a gun, we’re afraid that she’ll shoot the child.”
I nodded. “I think it’s for the best,” was my truthful answer. The details of that night so long ago seeped into my head and I thought to myself, no, I don’t want to die, but maybe I do deserve it. Maybe I helped them create this monster and now I have to go down with it.
The thought hurt, but it was true, and so I couldn’t deny it. Not anymore.
I wondered if my parents would ever forgive me for what I was about to do. I wondered if they even KNEW what was happening. Based on the fact that they weren’t here trying to stop me, I’d say the town had gone to great pains to keep my involvement a secret.
So I did what I had to.
I took a deep breath and, as the police force and townsfolk gathered around me to watch, I stepped towards the large glass doors.
And I remembered.
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They’d fitted me up with an earpiece and a microphone. I wished they hadn’t, I didn’t want them to hear what Taylor was going to say, but maybe it was for the best.
As I stepped into the school, Todd’s voice buzzed in to my ear.
“She’s in room 107. Do you know where it is?”
How could I forget? Ms. Anderson’s old classroom. She used to be the second-grade teacher. That was where Taylor and I first laid eyes on each other. Fitting, don’t you think?
I grunted my assent as I moved past the front office, walking down the main hallway, my eyes darting back and forth, taking in all the sights that I’d thought once to forget.
It couldn’t have taken me more than two minutes to reach the first hallway, but it felt like hours. Everything about this was so surreal. Were they really the halls that I’d run down trying to make it to class on time? They hadn’t changed at all, so why did this feel so strange? Perhaps I was the one that changed, or maybe I really hadn’t changed and that’s why everything seemed wrong. It was like stepping back into a past where I didn’t belong.
Where I’d never belonged.
I turned right down the hallway and spotted the room. It was four doors down and to the right. It was easy to tell that it was my destination because all the other rooms were empty, their doors hanging open as though they’d been abandoned in a hurry. The only room that hadn’t been evacuated had its door shut, glowing with a light that seemed sinister. As my feet carried me towards the door, I wondered if this was the last light that I would see. This sickly yellow that cast a jaundice hue on everything around it.
I reached the door and thought about my family. I should have left a note. I should have called them. I should have warned them. Because for the first time this whole day, I was absolutely certain that whatever happened in that room would end in death.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open.
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One of the reasons that people go to high school reunions is that they can see how their old classmates have aged. Although, perhaps the age of reunions is over, what with the advent of Facebook. Still, you expect there to be some kind of change. So-and-so got fat, or rich, or super attractive. Something is different to let you know that time has passed.
Taylor looked exactly like the last time I had seen her.
She still wore grungy, second-hand clothing that always looked like it could use a wash. Her long brown hair and green eyes hadn’t dulled. She hadn’t grown or gained weight. She was just as she always had been, and she smiled at me as though she were happy to see me.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Lily,” she said.
I took a moment to take in the rest of the room, to properly assess the situation. The children were all seated silently at their desks, as was the teacher in the back. It was a man this time – a pity that Ms. Anderson wasn’t here to see this reunion. She’d always hated the two of us. She probably would have enjoyed watching us both die. At this point, I had no illusions that this wasn’t going to be the outcome. All that mattered to me now was making sure that she didn’t kill any of the students on her way out. I wondered if I could succeed in that, at least.
Taylor herself was sitting at the front of the classroom, a young boy huddled on her lap. He was small, even for a seven-year-old, and his eyes were wet with tears. He was shaking but his face was strangely calm, almost apathetic, and I knew right then that he was suffering from shock. He was going to need medical attention soon – looks like Taylor and I were going to have to wrap this up quickly. She seemed to be waiting for an answer as I looked at the child, so I gave her one.
“It’s been a long time, Taylor,” I said, and she smiled.
Todd’s voice buzzed in my ear like a mosquito. “Lily, ask what she wants.”
I shook my head just a little, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. I knew what she wanted, or at least, I thought I did.
“I suppose that asking you to forgive me wouldn’t help at all, would it?” I asked. Taylor gave me a sad smile and I continued. “I’ll take any punishment you want to give me, so could you let the boy go? You’re scaring him, Taylor, and you don’t want to scare him.”
“What makes you think that?” she asked, genuinely curious, and I paused, wondering if I had miscalculated the situation. “Do you know who this boy is?” She continued, sounding almost casual.
I shook my head. She smiled a little wider and her eyes gleamed.
“I don’t blame you, Lily. When I brought up your dad’s gun… I should have known you weren’t ready yet. I should have known you would be scared.”
A part of me piped up and, for some reason, it became imperative that Taylor understood the truth of what I’d done, and the reason behind it. “No, Taylor, that’s not right. I wasn’t scared.” Her brows furrowed as I continued. “Not for the reason you think, anyway. I… when you said that, when you opened up to me about your plans for revenge… I was excited. I was happy. More than anything, I wanted to do exactly what you’d suggested. And that… that was why I was scared. That’s why I asked my parents to switch me to a new school. That’s why I…” I couldn’t finish.
“That’s why you screamed at me to leave and told me you’d tattle if I ever tried to find you again?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. There was hurt in her eyes, yes, but there was also understanding.
“Yes,” I answered, “I wasn’t afraid of you, I was afraid of me, and what I would do. So I ran away.”
“You abandoned me.”
“Yes.”
“Did you… in all these years, did you ever think of me?”
My voice was breathless when I answered, “Oh, yes. So many times, Taylor.”
Her rueful little smile returned as she readjusted her grip on the boy. “Did you ever expect this?”
I considered lying, but she didn’t deserve a lie, even with what she was doing and what she’d become. “Yes, Taylor. I thought it might end up like this.”
“No… you KNEW it would end up like this.”
“…Yes.”
We stood there silently for just a moment. Todd’s voice didn’t come back in my ear, but I knew that he was listening intently. I guessed that he was shocked at what I’d just revealed.
Yes, I’d wanted to do this. I’d wanted to take revenge on my classmates and anyone else who got in our way. I’d wanted to do it with Taylor, and that’s why I made her believe I hated her, that’s why I’d hidden myself from her. That’s why I pretended that she’d never existed. Because if I hadn’t…
I shook the thought away from my head. It wouldn’t do any good to start thinking like that. I had a job to do, so I said, “Taylor, I know you want to hurt the people who hurt us, but these kids haven’t done anything to you. They aren’t the ones you want to hurt. Let them go, Taylor.”
She shook her head and a strange gleam entered her eyes. At that moment, those green orbs were the most beautiful I’d ever seen them… until she gave me her answer. “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, Lily. These kids… they’re poisoned. Poisoned by this town and its people. And they’re going to hurt some poor kids just like we were hurt. You know it and I know it.”
“Taylor…” I didn’t like where this was going.
“No, listen. This boy right here. Don’t you know who it is? Look at his face. Look and tell me.”
I humored her and looked at him. Now that she’d said it, he did look a little familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him.
“It’s Amanda’s son. You remember Amanda, don’t you?”
It was a rhetorical question. How could I forget the name of the worst bully in school? Well, not that I hadn’t tried. I’d tried so very hard for so many years. And in the end, it came back to this.
“We can hurt her, Lily. We can hurt her and, at the same time, stop this town from poisoning anyone else.”
“Taylor, listen to yourself. This isn’t like you.” But it was like her. It was exactly what she’d do. And I had to find some way to convince her to let go of the gun or she’d do it.
And then, of course, the game changed.
I saw her shifting in her seat and I tensed… until she pulled out a switchblade and threw it towards me. I caught it and marveled at it, wondering what she wanted from me. Why did she arm me? I mean, a knife was nothing against a gun, but it still struck me as odd.
“Do you remember,” she continued, “the day that Amanda told everyone in school that you were pregnant? A little slut who fucked any guy who she came across? And she cornered you in the yard after school and mocked you until one of the teachers finally stepped in.”
Oh, yes. Yes, I remembered.
Taylor saw the flicker in my eyes. “Think about that while you do it.”
And she waited.
My eyes were shadowed in confusion as I stared at her. As I did what…?
And then I understood.
“No,” I whispered.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Taylor, I can’t hurt him. I can’t. You should know that.”
“You have a choice, Lily,” she continued. “If you don’t want to kill him, fine, then I will shoot every child in this room, him included.” The children gasped as she waved her gun at them in the air. The teacher at the back of the room blanched. My pulse thundered in my throat and, suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. “But if you chose to do as I asked, what I know you WANT to do, then there will only be three deaths today.” She gave me a pointed look as she asked, “Do you understand?”
And so I stood in limbo, staring first at the terrified face of the boy in front of me, then at those crazy eyes that were holding him in place, and finally at the captive audience that was beginning to tremble. I hadn’t expected this. I knew that she would kill me, yes, and I knew that she would die with me, but to make me an accomplice to murder… that was not a part of the plan that I had fashioned for myself.
That was so like Taylor, to come up with something so horrific.
I don’t know how long I debated because time seemed to cease in those moments, but the illusion was shattered when the teacher’s voice piped up from the back of the room.
“Do it!” He was trying not to scream and failing miserably. “For fuck’s sake, do it!”
No. No, all of this was wrong, no, I didn’t understand, I couldn’t understand. And the teacher just kept SCREAMING at me (“oh God please just do it for fuck’s sake it’s only one child just KILL HIM”) and everything in my mind was screaming, too (you can’t do it yes you can no you can’t it’s only one child to save twenty others but I can’t yes you can) and Todd’s voice came in over the earpiece (“Shit, Lily, don’t do it, don’t listen to her, we’re sending help in as fast as we can, try to stall”)…
And then I realized that, maybe, there was another choice.
I took a deep breath before I spoke, praying that this would work, please, God, let this work.
“Taylor… you know I can’t kill that child. There’s… a part of me that wants to. A part of me that wishes it could inflict the pain that I received on someone else, as though that would get rid of it. But it can’t. And I won’t. It’s better that I let that part of me die here and now. What you do about this is up to you, but I can’t play this game with you. I’m sorry, Taylor. If I hadn’t left… maybe none of this would have happened. I’m… I’m so sorry.”
As I spoke, I turned the knife towards myself. Suddenly, the world didn’t exist outside of Taylor and me. She stared and I returned it as I lifted the knife to my own throat.
“Lily…” she warned.
But it was already too late.
I dug the knife deep into my throat and gasped. Oh, God, it HURT. It felt like every nerve of my flesh was on fire and the blood that rushed into my throat only served to inflame it further. I could feel myself choking, but I couldn’t stop yet. It was harder than I expected, dragging the knife across my neck, cutting through so much muscle and flesh. But I had to do it. It was the only option – perhaps, without me as an audience, without me to participate in this act, it would become meaningless.
I dropped to the floor, the blood filling my throat, spilling from it. Fuck, I couldn’t breathe. What would happen first, I wondered? Would I die from blood loss or would I suffocate?
My thoughts were momentarily interrupted by a BANG…
And then everything went dark.
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I was beyond surprised to wake up in the hospital. Actually, I was pretty shocked that I had woken up at all. I was pretty sure that I’d dug that knife deep into my throat. Or had that all been a dream? I reached up and fingered the bandage around my neck gently. No, it had happened. Then, what…?
And then my parents were beside me. And they were shouting for the doctor and crying over me and it was so loud that I couldn’t hear anything. And Todd was there and why is Todd here what does he want? And Taylor, Taylor, Taylor…
“What happened to her?” I tried to ask, but no noise came out of my wounded throat. Another shock when Todd pulled out a pad of paper and a pencil. Handing it to me, he said, “You won’t be able to talk for a while, so you’ll have to use this.” He was giving me a strange look as I wrote out my question.
He stared at the pad a moment longer than it should have taken to read my message before he answered, “She’s dead. She… shot herself after you tried to kill yourself.”
I took the pad back. And the boy?
“She didn’t hurt him. He’s okay.”
How am I not dead?
“We were able to get to you before you bled out. We heard the shots and the screaming, we came in expecting the worse. Turns out she was the only casualty.”
That was all the further we could communicate before the doctor was in the room and tending to me. My mother was clinging to my side and weeping, and my father looked positively relieved, although there were shards of anger and hurt in their eyes that I knew might never go away. I only hoped that they would accept my apologies, or at least understand why I had to do it.
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My recovery wasn’t quick. It took a few months before I could really talk again, the flesh coming back together slowly and painfully. But eventually life returned to normal and I was able to go back to my home.
And so a year passed.
It was on the anniversary that Todd came back to see me. I guess I had been wondering if he would – you know, he and I still aren’t close, although I think he’s changed the way he looks at me.
When he came back to me, he had questions, as I knew he would.
“How did you know it would work?” He asked.
“I didn’t,” I answered. When that didn’t satisfy him, I said, “She wanted me to come back to her. When I tried to sacrifice myself, she knew that she’d really lost me. There was no point to her plan anymore.”
“Why didn’t you just stall for time? We could have…”
“No, you couldn’t have,” I cut him off. “If you had come in, she would have killed that child. You and I both know that. There was no other choice.”
“You’d sacrifice yourself for that kid?”
The answer to that was obvious, so he continued.
“Why?”
“Because… because I had a hand in making Taylor what she was. When she told me about her dreams of revenge, I should have told somebody. I should have done something. But I didn’t, and that means that I’m no better than the rest of you. I had to pay for my sins.”
For a long time, Todd didn’t say anything. We sat in my kitchen, drinking coffee, thinking about the past and the future and the strange turning of the world in between.
And then he asked me something I never expected.
“Do you think it’s over?”
There was a long pause as I stared at him, wondering. And then I answered.
“I don’t know.”
