“It’s not death that scares me. It’s the idea that there’s infinite things I’ll never get to do that scares me. I’ll never have a high school diploma, never see Europe, never have a wedding, never see anything other than what I see now. Maybe that’s why Mike pisses me off- he had a choice. He could have done anything he wanted and he decide to end it. I don’t. Have a choice, I mean.” She looked ahead, fixed on a spot behind me. She had this perplexed look, like she had just spilled her biggest confession and was going to be hauled off to jail at any second. “It doesn’t matter, does it? None of it really matters. None of this seeing or doing or hearing or acting or any of it. We’re all just going to end up in a hole in the ground.”
“Right back where we started…” I whispered.
“What?” She said. Her gaze shifted from its position on the wall to my eyes.
“Right back where we started,” I said, louder this time. “Adam and Eve. ‘From dust we came, and from dust we shall return.'”
“You know that I don’t believe in that stuff.”She turned away from me, towards her window. There’s a little seat and shelf painted a baby-doll pink where we used to sit when we were kids- I would play with whatever toys she had hanging around and she would read grown-up books that I had never heard of. Books that, looking back, were way too old for her at the time.
She stood up abruptly from her place on the bed and walked over to that seat. I watched as she sunk down into it, staring into the tree branches outside.
“It’s all a bunch of bull anyway,” I said to the back of her head.
“I don’t want to take about it,” she responded. Kat sounded weaker than usual. There was a defeat in her voice, almost as if she had a sealed fate.
She turned suddenly back towards me with a fake, quirky smile plastered across her face. The same one that she flashed at all the teachers who looked at her in that I-feel-bad-for-you kind of way. “Anyway. Tell me about this girl you met today.”
Bits of a Book That I’ll Never Write.