Still Myself, Still Surviving: Part II: The Realization

by Marlin Grail

“I won’t assume, but I hope you’re having a good day,” I say with another friendly smile.

  He hoots with glee. “Listen! I planned on doing a musical performance for everyone tonight. Would you mind if I said I’d like you as part of it?”

  I swing my head over to Lissie to see what she might have to say about it.

  “Well, now I could get to see you perform for the first time,” she warmly says.

  I turn back to this other musician. “Why not? Sure thing!” Energy rolls through my throat.

  He eagerly slaps his hands, then holds both of them to his chest. “How about now? Just let me go get my guitar, then we can start!”

  “All right.”

  He goes to give me a hug, but then holds himself back. I can see he’s uncertain to how I’d respond to it. I take control this time and get us patting each other’s backs.

  Afterward, he moves outside, rushing to let us know he’ll return. Lissie seems to have a look of suppressed giddiness to the idea of me performing.

  “Did you ever see me perform?” I’m genuinely curious.

  “Some people I knew did. They said you were wild.”

  I can’t help but duck my head in embarrassment. “Wild would be a way to put it. I think that steam’s elsewhere now.”

  She then gives a playful whine of being letdown, but I embrace why it won’t be a “wild” performance.

  My music and performances were definitely not advised for underage listeners or concert-goers. I hope this musician’s not expecting we’ll play one song of mine. I can’t think of a single one that didn’t have anything suggestive or profane about it.

  There are children around, after all.

  The front door he swung out of swings back open, with him carrying his acoustic guitar. A few people from the tables rise up and cheer for him. He then excitedly gestures me to get up and follow.

  We start up an abrupt symbiotic connection as music creators. His personality shows me when he’s about the performance, he’s really about the performance.

  “I want you to do vocals, Gary.” He lacks any hesitance when he instructs me. “I’ll play a 4/4 measure in a pattern of 4 chords for 2 bars total before I switch. Then you just come in when you’re comfortable. Cool?”

  “That will work.”

  It’s been well over a year since I did a legitimate vocal performance, but surprisingly I’m quite relaxed about it. There were many times a show would just be spur of the moment without recent rehearsal or warm-up.

  The entire building settles down.

  A major specific I notice is the Chief. He has a stoic expression and rod by his side. C. is beside the Chief.

  He looks upset.

  I can’t tell if it’s because of the Chief or not, but his hidden glare at him, a glare which the Chief doesn’t appear aware, has me question what’s changed since their earlier interaction today.

  Perhaps C. normally gives this unfriendly face to everyone, when the spotlight isn’t on him. Maybe his best friend, the one I dragged back from the school, would also receive this look. It wouldn’t be putting me on edge as much if I could see his best friend get it too.

  That man’s blond hair, brightest I’ve ever seen, is not near C., or anywhere within the building.

  I’m not going to worry about his whereabouts. Only for the Chief’s benefit is why I’ve wondered if he’s here. My guess would be he’s spending time with his new “friends” by the fence.

  My group sits with obvious anticipation, and, as I see all of these people, I find it obstructing what my position is now on this stage. I can’t seem to think of lyrics that would be positive.

  Melancholy and speaking of that melancholy would work in the “Flock of Glam”, but I can’t imagine the various age group in here would be pleased by it.

  The more I look, the less inspirational emotions come to me that isn’t filled with disenchanting spirit. I see “Shades”, and his group, before they simply gesture their distaste at me. They leave the premises with visible attitude.

  Everything at this point is cumbersome to look at.

  I then realize the music has just begun, so I intensify my focus on the rhythm to catch up to where he’s at in the chord progression.

  I’m confused. I’ve had bottles thrown at me on stage. I’ve had many distractions try and mess with me during the moment. However, I must keep in mind I worked through those feelings in my music and lyrics.

  But they were a different audience. Unlike the people I see before me, the known parents that would cover their child’s ears over that sound and poetry.

  I hum a melody, darker than what I intended to provide initially. Before I have sung even one word, everything seems to go off the rails for me and my purpose up here. It’s intensifying my anxiety.

  That is until I look at who I should’ve been focused on this whole time.

  Lissie.

  It’s now dark in the building. But, with a flashlight that continuously swings with the beat of the rhythm, I can locate her eager face.

  She’s taught me to not hide the truth from myself. She’s about embracing the wonderful things that come from loving someone. Even when you can’t explain all about them in a sentence or two. All I need is to make this our time. In my mind right now, this performance will be dedicated for her.

  I moisten my lips with my tongue, and then begin what my heart has to say to her.

  “Once, you thought you loved me.

  Now, you know more than a thought.

  What was it going through your head?

  You know I don’t need to know, other than…”

  My words that I sing for another two minutes-worth is about why I don’t need her explanation for having an interest in me, or why reading in-between lines isn’t really necessary. Just knowing there was an initial thought at a point in time about it was enough.

  When the clapping commences, her silhouette stands up high. It’s then that I know she knows where my sudden inspiration came from.

  Ashton’s voice hurdles the loudest, and I let this instant of self-gratification run its course. The other musician who made this possible pats my shoulder with appreciation. I thank him for this opportunity.

  “I needed this,” I share before walking back to the table.

  I wanted that performance to be for the people. They influenced where I was going with my “on-the-spot” words, but then I was able to understand that they just wanted entertainment. This was for the both of us.

  I forgot about that during my late career as an actual musician.

  Lissie stands with her hands covering her mouth. It’s the gesture of someone being entranced. Before I can top it off with a kiss, another silhouette bounces off the wall towards me.

  “Yes?” I ask them, eager to finish so I can get to Lissie.

  “You brought the kid back. That’s good. Could you come with me outside?” this mysterious figure is inclined to have already happen.

  Chapter XXVII

  I look to Lissie, and she responds, “Go on. Let my groupie energy wear off.”

  “Okay,” I say as my answer to both of them.

  Me and this strange male head outside, right beside the brick wall out front. Aside from the undead’s vocal groveling for our attention, it’s very quiet.

  The man turns on a flashlight, then shines it across my body. “You found the boy, right?” he asks, nonchalantly.

  “Yes, we did.”

  “Okay. I’m sure his presence raised many questions about a bigger picture about C.’s establishment.”

  “That’s true.”

  He puts a hand on my shoulder. It doesn’t seem friendly, but it doesn’t seem vicious. Not yet.

  “Tell me, are you in on it?”

  My tone grows wary over his answer, but it’s important for me to ask anyways. “In on what?”

  “That this is all a lie? When I arrived, I overheard him and the Chief talking about attackers invading your setup. You’re telling me you’re not aware
this is a lie?”

  I lose my easy composure. Deliberately I knock his hand off me. “Don’t tell me… There’s no invasion?”

  A pause of silence grows indeterminably longer, and it has me endure more ache about another lie, another surprise…

  Like any ordinary day with C.

  Chapter XXVIII

  (Lissie)

  Gary has been outside for quite a while, so I move past my weak-knee and thumping heart response he had me going through.

  To someone else, I’d sound self-centered, but I know those words were for me. Clever, Gary, but now you’ve made it harder for me to find you a wonderful Christmas gift.

  I head right through to the outside, immediately noticing to my left that he’s with a man, the one who’s taken Gary out of my grasp. I see it’s worked, because when Gary finally turns to me, he has a hauntingly blank expression, but I can see there’s anger erupting underneath.

  I go over to him. “What’s going on, Gary?”

  “I’m sorry, Lissie,” he responds with a very guilty-sounding tone.

  I chuckle, then massage his hand with my thumbs. “Sorry for what?”

  The man beside us is quick to know Gary wants him to leave. He nods to Gary, then states cryptically, “Remember, not tonight. Not ever. These people aren’t deserving of wrath. Thank you.”

  Gary hides his face from him, but it’s noticeable to me that he’s bothered by this person’s mysterious remarks.

  I can now tell this conversation will be extremely serious. I have to accept it will erase the beautifully-sung soul I saw of Gary. Well, it was beautiful to witness him when he’s not using that “steam” of his to heavier matters.

  “Gary?” I worriedly ask, growing uncomfortable when his eyes haven’t regained their usual sparkle. Instead, they’re telling me a single answer already, an answer which will cause trouble.

  “We’ve been lied to, Lissie—this whole time.” His flashlight brings out the contoured lines of his face, but they seem to droop from being utterly dispirited.

  Many girls I knew before had these looks. They were tired, they were losing what they didn’t know could be lost. I see that exact expression on Gary.

  I don’t like seeing it on him.

  I throw out a pinch of agitation at him because it’s my self-defense. “Come on, what are you trying to tell me?”

  “C., Lissie, is not C. He’s never been, according to that man I just spoke to.”

  I want to cough out a forced laugh. Most of me can’t seem to find this as anything other than a sick joke Gary’s been told. I want to believe him however, so I force it out anyway.

  “You don’t even know that man! So how are you going to take his word?”

  “Lissie, that man originally came from Cheyenne, before he went AWOL. He was the one who convinced these people to be with C., so he’d have a resting point when returning from his scouting missions to our setup.”

  AWOL? Like a soldier? If this is all not just a terrible prank, why would he let Alex, a boy, be put in a place he’s claiming is not C.’s?

  I lean back my head against the glass doors of the building, knowing C., or supposedly C., is in there at this exact moment.

  “T-that can’t be true. Those parents… Alex… He would have been in danger.”

  Gary refocuses my attention back to him when he palms the side of my face. “This man proclaimed ‘C.’ being in our area would ensure Alex’s safety, as long as Alex explained where he came from, and that his setup here entrusted and allowed him to be there. AKA, Alex’s parents’ permission.

  “This man wanted an opportunity to draw ‘C.’ to this place, and he believed Alex would be the perfect way to do so. Why he needed to draw him here? He didn’t tell me.

  “He was at the roadblock assembly, incognito. He then knew it was a dangerous place for Alex, based off most of the people there, but was confident Alex would return, and that he’d make it safely back with our group, when he saw Alex stuck to us.

  “I’m sorry, Lissie, but…we’ve been lied to. There’s no invasion. There are events in Cheyenne, but not the kind we were told. C.’s not the person we thought he was.”

  This is bizarre. On one hand, I didn’t hold a light to C.’s existence, but on the other hand, this still feels like a deep betrayal.

  I shake my head with disbelief, but I know Gary isn’t lying. If there’s anyone left on this planet that won’t lie, Gary’s that person. He’s not lying to me. I embrace his hand, holding onto it with complete worry.

  What’s the point of C.—that ass—lying to so many innocent people? Ashton, Will, and Janice are under the same roof as that fraud. I don’t trust anything he says he will or won’t do anymore. He could be waiting for the right moment tonight to start a massacre in there. I don’t know, but I don’t want to know at the same time.

  “Let’s leave.” My faint voice reaches for Gary, while I turn my lips to press a kiss on his palm. “Let’s get the others and leave.”

  I expect Gary to underestimate what I’m sensing. He angles his gaze aimlessly all around us, as though he’s sensing something on his own.

  I didn’t tell him before, but I had scratch of thought to abandon all of this earlier today. Especially with the confrontations we had with that piggish man and his bigoted men.

  I shivered back then at the truck. Even though it’s relatively warm out tonight, I’m starting to shiver now at the idea of us having to be near them once again.

  It’s as if my body has a sixth sense about something that could screw us over.

  Gary doesn’t seem opposed to the idea, because he begins to slowly nod his head. “Okay, Lissie. Let’s get the—”

  Gary’s body looks as though he’s yanked by his sword’s handle. He looks as though he’s being dragged away from me. Suddenly, I feel the change from asphalt to grass under my feet.

  It’s me being pulled back!

  Chapter XXIX

  Disturbingly, I feel arms curve up under my armpits. Stubby fingers lock and weigh down the back of my neck, pulling me until I can only see the ground. I resist and struggle, but I can’t seem to break away from this person.

  I hear Gary filled with fury. Deep masculine voices are all around, but a garbled message makes it through along with a loud breath beside my right ear.

  “Just let me have this once. After I’m done, you can go back to your loser of a boyfriend.”

  The man I’ve worried about all throughout today. Finally, he’s made the worst mistake of his life.

  I reverberate back with more fight and fierceness. Digging both of my heels to the ground, I dig my nails into this man’s ribs. He won’t give in and let me go, but I’m not losing either. He then uses his pelvis to bump my power stance off balance, and makes vile remarks about it.

  “Ooh yeah, girl, just keep fighting. It turns me on more.”

  I feel his tongue slither down my neck, and it’s far from seductive. It only enrages me. I use all my strength to drive my arm back down to my side, even though his bicep is hard to squish, because I recognize that Gary’s got the full attack of a group on him at the moment.

  I can’t be the damsel in distress. What will keep me going is that Gary needs my help.

  I bellow loudly, as this man moans passionately when he lets his teeth nibble my ear. His reserves of strength feel as though they loosen because of his impatience.

  So I make my attack now.

  My arms are lowered enough to snake behind my tailbone. I then squeeze at his crotch—with no remorse—like a stress ball I’m determined to burst.

  The man collapses, releasing his hold on me.

  My initial reaction is to turn behind me and finish him off, but the sight of Gary, along with those other men, prioritize what I need to do next.

  Gary needs my help.

  I sprint back to the front, ears straining to listen to the commotion of that group. Just as I reach the doors, they swing open. Multiple people flood out with concern.


  “Move!” I assert, turning their attention to me.

  I hear Janice’s voice yell from within the crowd, but I choose to ignore it. Only the sight of Gary is what matters to me. I veer past the corner to the other side of this building.

  It’s there that I see the full-fledged bloody fight.

  Gary, looks more barbarian than civilized. He violently swats those men dead on their faces. Most of them fall to the ground in agony, shielding themselves from the disfigurement they’re bound to have earned. With his second hand, he unloads his pistol’s clip in them, shooting more times than what I see is necessary.

  Should I feel guilty? Gary wouldn’t be this ruthless if it wasn’t for me being viciously taken. I don’t want him to take all the guilt on his own. However, it’s not like I can change his mind about the choices he’s dedicated to doing now.

  But, I wish it was me who dealt with them instead of him.

  Right then, the final man standing receives a backhand slice by Gary. He covers his neck with both hands.

  Gary’s attacked all of them with his sword. As far as I know, he’s said he never harmed or killed a living person with it.

  He lets out a vicious battle cry. It echoes in the sudden silence. Gary then intuitively turns to look behind him.

  “Lissie!” he exclaims with clear relief.

  People have already found the two of us here. Many women shrill with fear when they witness the bloody result of what’s happened. They only know one side of the story, and the two of us don’t need to explain ourselves.

  Gary loudly states to the crowd, who are obviously fearing for themselves, “Do you see someone farther down by the front of the building? If you do…keep him from fleeing!”

  Our group hustles their way to be in front of everyone. Janice calls out my name again. It’s here, knowing Gary’s alive and okay, and that I’m away from that violator, that my vision blurs with tears.

  Stumbling into her arms, I’ve never hugged Janice as hard as I am now. I know I’d also want Gary to hold me as I go through this long-held release of emotions, but I want something more.