Never Meant to Be (13 page)

No, no,
my eyes begged him.

I was terrified and angry at the same time, but Johnny seemed to be determined and blind in his obsession. The monster inside him was in control.              

He pulled the trigger.

I clutched Aadish’s finger so hard that I nearly cracked his bones as I fell from the stage. My knees had given in. My entire body was shaking in fear.

But Johnny was still standing. That bastard was still standing--the gun was empty. He wickedly smiled as he enjoyed watching my face turn white.

Since he couldn’t kill himself and certainly couldn’t kill me, he turned his attention back towards Aadish. I could see his lips moving, and what I could manage to understand was that he was saying
you betrayed me
.

He lowered his gun and I raised myself to my tip-toes, trying to see what he was doing. He was loading bullets.

God, now he's loading the gun for real. What should I do? What should I do?

There was no way that Johnny would listen to me. He was high on drugs and full of rage. He thought that I had betrayed him, but why would I even consider going back to him after his scene? As I lost myself in my own thoughts, I saw Johnny quickly raise the gun, pointing it at Aadish, and pull the trigger. 

I felt the bullet pierce my arm, and as I started to fall another one hit me on the shoulder. It was all so fast that before I knew it, I was lying on the stage, covered in blood.

Everything broke into chaos. The police charged the crowd while people went wild, running everywhere. The wave of people came running towards me, but my eyes were only searching for Johnny.

I spotted him. He looked surprised, and started to run towards me as I was carried away. The last thing I remember was the image of Johnny struggling and fighting with guards and cops, trying to reach me. I stretched out my arms towards him. But there was too much chaos. Then I was put into a car, and everything went black.

Chapter Eight

The Revelation

Esther’s Dairy

The life of dust depends upon the wind. As soon as wind calms, dust is as good as dead. Johnny is my wind. He may not think the way I do and may not see how much I love him. His perception of the upper class is flawed and he probably doesn't take me seriously. But he doesn’t know how he makes me feel. I would die for him. That's the effect of love: as soon as you gain consciousness, you start thinking about the person who's in your mind and in your soul immediately.

“Oh, thank God you're here. When I will be discharged? "

My eyes caught on a newspaper laying on the foot of the bed. 

"What the hell is this? It says that I'm dead!” I pointed to the newspaper. 

“Ma’am, that was just a precaution. You were out cold for three days. We were really worried, and we got information that the attacker was planning to assault you again. So we thought it would be best if we spread the rumor and we shifted you into another ward.”

“Three days, really?" I couldn't believe it.

"Can you please, please find Johnny? I have to talk with him now.”

Mr. Brad went silent for few seconds.

“You can’t do that, ma’am.”

“But why? I know you're concerned for my security, but I know he won't hurt me. He can’t hurt me. I have to see him now.”

Mr. Brad paused for a few seconds before answering “Ma’am he...His body was found in a garbage pile this morning.”

“What do you mean, body?”

“Ma’am ...Johnny is dead.”

The world went silent.

“No, look, I'm already in bad condition, and not in mood of any pranks or jokes. Please will you just call him for me?”

“I wish I could, ma’am.” Mr. Brad lowered his head. I was in shock.

They say that when you fall off a cliff, there is a moment of extreme silence before you hit the ground, shattering your soul. I had just fallen off of a cliff. I didn’t believe it. I would not believe it. How could I? Just two days before, Johnny had been slinging around a gun in a crowd of people. How could he be dead?

I threw the monitor that contained all of the tubes attached to me.

“Ma’am, you need to calm yourself," Mr. Brad's eyes went wide.

"Please, doctor! Doctor!” He shouted as my wound started to bleed again.

“No, this can’t be true. That bastard can't leave me alone. I need to see him. Would you please call him?" I started to sob uncontrollable. "Johnny! Johnny, where are you?”

I tried to get up out of bed, but I was too weak and I fell to the ground. In the meantime, the hospital staff ran in and put me back into bed, trying to restrain me and keep my wound safe. But I didn't care about my wound or the fact that I was bleeding. I just wanted to see Johnny coming through that door smiling and have him take me with him to our tree house.

I heard a doctor and nurse shouting to each other. Then, I felt a strong wave of exhaustion that made my eyelids heavy. Soon, I fell asleep.

When I regained consciousness I saw uncle and Aadish sitting beside me. As soon as I gained control over my senses, I started to murmur.

“I need to see him, I need to see him. I want to see him. Please, please let me see him.”

Uncle hugged me tightly, but my tears didn't stop.

“I don’t want this. I don't want this company, this fame and money, I just want him. Please...” I sobbed.

“He's gone, my dear, he's gone.” My uncle tried to console me.

When they could no longer keep me in bed any more, they let me go to see his corpse.

His face was bruised and bloody as if he had been beaten to death. There were bullet holes in his chest. Dried blood collected around his mouth. His hands were as cold as ice, and there was my name printed in black ink on his right arm. ESTHER.

“The doctors said it was suicide. He put bullets through his own heart.” Mr. Brad summed up the situation with his usual formality, despite my pain.

I was silent. My vision was getting blurred as tears began to swell in my eyes. I could hear his corpse shouting at me, screaming at me. I couldn't take it. What had I done?

“No, no ,no no, no!” The shriek of my voice echoed in the morgue, where the darkness of the room played orchestra to my pain.

“He... he wasn't bad, you know. He just had a terrible life. He was a fragile, misunderstood kid, he ...” My voice got heavy as I started to sob again. I wanted to say more, but I couldn't. The pain exceeded my words.

Three people.

There were only three people at Johnny’s funeral: Edi, Mr. Brad, and me. Nobody in this fucking world knew who Johnny was, who that great kid was. No one knew the Johnny who fought with the world to be different but never get it quite right, who infused me with the possibility of horizons and love.

All he got were a few inches of box to tuck in all the dreams and all his anger against the world in one place. I was not convinced that the small box or that grave could even contain half of his dreams and desire. Slowly, the blanket of this earth covered his body and I was still fighting.               He should have been buried in the sky.

Johnny’s face was before me constantly. I'll never forget his cold corpse lying lifeless, wanting to say so much to me, but I didn't understand.

It’s all my fault. It’s my fault. I loved him. I never should have left him. After all, he was just like a kid. I should have understood. I should have understand. Yes, he didn’t know how to handle it, but he really loved me...he really loved me.

As the memories buzzed through my mind, I moved towards the window. I opened it and a wild breeze entered. I looked down at the street, and I could swear I saw Johnny down there smiling and holding open his arms. He was so real, so there.

So I climbed out onto the ledge. I almost nearly let myself fall, but suddenly Aadish entered the room and stopped me.

Why did he save me? I don’t want to be saved.

The color of my madness was deepening with every second. I could no longer write.

***

If my tears were words

I would have written a thousand books on you

But I known words can be erased and forgotten

Silence is easily remembered

So I will keep walking in silence

And you continue to love me in silence

***

I remember our last day together.  He didn't want me to go. I wanted to stay, too. So we hatched the plan to hide ourselves until my parents forgot about me.

“Are you sure they won't find us?” I asked him from beneath the bench.

It was dark and the park was closed. We were scared of ghosts and monsters, but the fear of being found was worse.  We were starting to regret being so rebellious, because maybe if we had behaved better my parents would never send me away.

“I'm pretty sure,” Johnny said, but that day, there was no confidence in his voice. Maybe he was too afraid to lose me.

“Johnny, if they find us, promise me that you won't ever stop writing. You have a talent and you shouldn't waste it. Promise me you'll write every day, and then one day I'll come back to you.”

“I promise. Shhh ...” He put his finger to my lips as the footsteps started to come closer.

Just one more day, or until everybody forgets about us, we prayed with our hearts pounding.

Soon, however, the park was filled with policemen as we held each other’s hand tightly, praying that they missed us. I think it was the first time I saw him really praying for anything; otherwise he used to say there was no God. But he was breaking his rules for me that day, and I was impressed.

The whole place lit up and the sound of moving feet came closer and closer.

“I see them there!” I suddenly heard a man shout. 

“Please God, please don’t let them find us. Please.” But I guess sometimes praying isn’t enough.

In no time, they were there.

They pulled me out. Johnny started to fight with the cops, not letting them take me. But we were only two kids fighting against the world. He bit a policeman's hand and the man slapped him. He was eleven and was fighting with them as if he were an adult. He grabbed my hand and tried to run, but we were outnumbered.

I saw my mom coming towards us

“So, this is the boy who is ruining my daughter?" She shouted. "God, just look at him! Officer, give him the thrashing of a lifetime so he won't even think about my daughter again.”

“No, you can’t do that, mommy!” I shouted and grabbed Johnny's hand tightly.

But they pulled us apart and that was the last time I saw him.  He had tears in his eyes and was still fighting for me while they drove me away. I looked back through the window. He was being beaten brutally.

I cried for him whole night, not knowing when or if we would ever see each other again.

I remember getting a letter once.

“Deer Esther

I hope you reach well. I so much miss you and kiss you; I am in this shitty place someday I am goanna run away. And, I haven’t spent a penny from your piggy bank. When will I sea you again I sea you in my dream every night. So did you go beyond horizon what is in there? Tell me about it how is it one day when I will grow wings I will come also come there miss you and kiss you . . .Jonny”

Why is it that the unsaid words always affect us more? Why is it that we remember incomplete stories? Why is the empty canvas almost as important as a painting?

Tragedy is the orgasm of love. And when love is rejected, betrayed, lost, and left behind, we change the spelling of love and start calling it life instead. And life must go on.

***

After completing the diary, Stella wiped her eyes, took out a cigarette, and lit it with shaking fingers.

“Latif, I lied you about Johnny’s diary. I bought the diary from a street thug named Edi.”

“You mean Johnny's friend?”

“Yes, him. But at that time, I didn’t knew that he had been friends with Johnny. I was looking for some news, then suddenly Edi comes to me and says that he had exactly what I wanted. Then he mentioned Esther's name, and I was a little suspicious since we had all heard the rumors that she was having an affair with someone. He said that the owner of the diary wanted to reveal the truth, and that is wasn't what everyone was thinking.

"I was cynical about the authentication, but then he asked for just a bottle of booze in exchange. I thought to myself:
it's only a matter of a few bucks. So why not give it a try
? I agreed and told the boss that I was pursing the Esther case and would give breaking news that will shake the city. I think my boss leaked the news and ...” She took a deep puff. 

“Then Katherine called me and really wanted to know what was in the diary. Was I writing something revealing? She wanted to know everything and offered me a good amount. Thank God I resisted. Then even Mr. Brad contacted me and he offered me a good sum for the diary.”

“But why?”

“Don’t you remember what Johnny and Esther had promised each other? That they would both keep a diary and not show it to each other until they were older?”

“So that means that Esther doesn’t know that it was her father who sexually abused Johnny?”

“Yes. And that’s why Mr. Brad was concerned. Giving this diary to Katherine isn’t a great idea. That’s why he even told me to destroy it, but I wanted to know what was in it. Esther has already tried committing suicide two times after Johnny's death, and he was afraid that if Katherine got her hands on the diary, she could do some pretty good damage.”

Latif rubbed his chin with his thumb.

“So if you decide to sell the diary to Mr. Brad, what you will tell the boss? He expects shocking news from us. What you will say?”

“As I told you, Mr. Brad is giving me a good amount for this diary. And besides, I don’t want Esther to hurt herself. Yeah, I'm a selfish bitch, but playing with someone's life is not what I do.”

The door bell rang.

“It must be him.”

Stella walked to the door while Latif looked at the diary for the last time.

She brought Mr. Brad into her living room.

“Hello, Mr. Brad,” Latif moved his hand forward for a handshake.

“So, let’s make this quick.” Mr. Brad opened his briefcase.

“Yeah, I know you're busy man. Esther must be emotionally devastated. By the way, how is she now?” Stella asked and sat down on the couch. Mr. Brad remained standing.

“She's...Well, she's still very fragile. Since she's young, it makes it much worse. She thinks it’s because of her that Johnny died. She thinks it was her responsibility to keep him out of the corporate politics. Thank God her uncle is there. If it wouldn’t be for him, I don’t think Esther would still be alive. But now, since his health is also declining, I'm afraid for what will happen.”