by Amanda Adair
“I’ve heard about the accidents at Brown,” she translates, then switches back to French. “Et laissez moi dire, je suis choqué.”
Jasmine thinks it makes it easier to adjust to life in France if we speak French whenever and wherever we can, including at parties in our dorm. I was surprised when I got to know that domestic and foreign students are assigned different dorms. I wanted to feel French, be French, and not be separated from regular students.
“It’s horrible,” I say and pretend to be shocked as well. The shared kitchen on this floor has never been as crowded as tonight. Some of us are now standing on the balcony, smoking or drinking. Here, it’s allowed. Well, not in the dorm, but most of us don’t care.
“Isn’t your cousin still there?,” she asks. “Is she okay?”
In one of the seminar rooms the roof had collapsed. A week later one of the cheerleaders fell of a pyramid and died. Another two months later a PhD student was caught with cocaine and caused a scandal. That girl’s career is over. But Sofia’s fine because Sofia is the one who panicked and played the game with our classmates. I don’t judge her. She panicked because her parents caught a virus in the Philippines and died. My aunt and uncle are dead. I miss them so much, but not as much as Sofia does. For months she wasn’t able to attend classes and take exams.
“Aspen,” Carter shouts. “How about the party game you told us about? We’re bored over here.”
All this time I was lucky I didn’t die but I can’t rely on luck my whole life.
“I need a volunteer,” I say and look around. Now all eyes are on me.
“How about your dear roommate,” Jasmine says teasingly. “I’ll go first.”
Sure, I think. You’re getting on my nerves anyway. I feel bad for stepping into Tansy’s footsteps but since there’s no way to be safe except playing again I lack other options. I’m done waiting for the day that I die. Get murdered. Stabbed. If everybody I know says the deaths have to stop they should support my decision. Refusing to play is equal to giving up on life and committing suicide.
“Okay, let’s sit down in a circle,” I say and turn towards Jasmine. “You lay down in the middle.” I point at the floor. “No worries, the cleaners came yesterday.”
Carter hands each of those another beer bottle, and I kneel down in front of Jasmine who lies on the ground in front of us. The candlelight illuminates her face and makes her highlighter shine. She’s a good girl, maybe a bit too loud and outgoing. I wonder what her story will be. Will she spend another weekend at the zoo and get eaten by a lion? Will she fail all of her exams and become a stripper?
My thoughts remind me of Cris. We all thought her story wasn’t as bad as ours but little did we know what would happen to her. Maybe It was her fate, maybe it wasn’t the game, but nobody knows for sure, do they? I just know that Sage posted an Instagram story showing her student ID from a private university in Madrid. God knows why she’s in Europe at the same time as I am.
“Repeat after me,” I say. “And don’t forget to close your eyes.”
Amaris, queen of blood and death.
Wherever you are,
be my guest
and grant me a wish
or drag me to the abyss.
They repeat my words, one by one. I look outside the window and wonder if maybe there is no other option than passing on negative effects to others. Sharing is caring. And I care about myself and the life I’m living. It’s not a crime to be selfish. Most people are selfish.
about the author
Amanda Adair studies English literature and international relations. The inspiration for all of her stories comes from travelling the world, from Hawai’i to Brazil, from psychology lectures and afternoons spend at coffee shops and libraries.
Wattpad /adairamanda
Instagram @itsamandaadair
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copyright
GRANT ME A WISH. Copyright © 2020 by Amanda Adair
Cover design by Amanda Adair