Wellbeing

Dear reader, 

When you find this, call 911. It’ll be too late, I’m sure of it, but at least you’ll be able to give their families closure, or something like that. 

I know none of this makes sense to you, but that’s ok. We have time right now, you and me, to get to know each other just a little. I believe that by the time you finish reading this, you’ll know me quite well. Maybe, you’ll even see me. 

Because when someone sees you, it can make all the difference. It can, mean everything.

When someone — when everyone — doesn’t see you, when they see through you, well… That’s how monsters are made.

These were the last words I whispered to my friends before I sent them out of the blue and into the black. 

I’m not going to waste our time by telling you why this happened, but it might be great fun to tell you how it happened. 

Just know, I got pushed too far. 

So, I returned the favor. 

***

The four of us walk along a narrow wooded path; Taylor, Noah, James, and me. Only I know where we are headed. It wasn’t exactly difficult to get them out here. They are curious by nature and so self-absorbed they would never suspect anything could ever happen to them. 

We are roommates by circumstance and friends by choice, and it is because of our choices, or theirs I should say, that brought us here tonight. I no longer think of them as friends, quite the opposite actually, for what they have done to me. But what I think of them is the least of their worries right now. 

A song plays on loop in my head, the one from Neil Young, I think.

I hum along: 

Out of the blue and into the black. 

You pay for this, but they give you that,

And once you're gone, you can't come back,

When you're out of the blue and into the black. 

Taylor tells me to shut up, and I stare at her, for what seems like the longest time, until her eyes drop, and she turns away. Then I grin. 

I grin because I know what will happen soon. I’ve been thinking about tonight for quite some time and have been playing it over, and over, and over in my head. 

I think I’ve got it just right. 

As we press on, the moonlight illuminates the eerie scene before us: The path, crooked and caked with brittle leaves that had fallen long ago from the surrounding trees, curves out of sight up ahead. The trees, which twist and contort like the claws of a creature, are still, as if frozen in time.  

I’ve been here before. I come here often. 

Oh, we’re so close now.  

***

About ten minutes later, Noah asks me how much further we have to go, and Taylor mutters something about her missing cat. James tries to hold my hand, but I shake him off. 

I don’t give him an explanation. 

As the path turns abruptly into an open field, I tell Noah that we are here. 

Fenced in by the oldest of oak trees, the field before us holds five ancient adobe ruins that stand silent against the night sky. The weathered remnants constructed from timeworn wood and sun-dried mud bricks melt into the muted colors of the marshy terrain. A broken-down corral sits motionless in the field to the east. 

This place is one that many hikers, passersby, and even locals do not know about. I’ve done my research, though, and can tell you they are adobe ruins from Spanish settlers some 200 years ago. A historic sign to the left of us gives a name to this strange site: El Cuervo.

My roommates squeal in excitement and run between the ruins. Predictably, Taylor pouts about how she wishes she had her phone so she can tell her thousands of followers about this place. 

When thinking about tonight, their phones were the first thing I was worried about. So, I spent a great deal of time making sure each of them wouldn’t have their phones, for one reason or another. The devil is in the details, but digitally, none of us are here right now, at the El Cuervo ruins. 

That is exactly how I want it to be.

And there, squarely in the center of all the ancient architecture, is a simple well, still standing. It contains a few cracks and crevices, and its bricks have dulled, withered by wind and time. Yet, the well remains largely unscathed. It dried up long ago, though there are wooden logs, trash, a few pennies, and other sorts of peculiars down there.  

It hasn’t been used in decades, but for me, it still serves a purpose.

Suddenly, the cry of a cat can be heard, its small shrieks cutting through the silence like a knife. It’s clear the cries are coming from far down somewhere, echoing as they ripple to the surface.  

We all turn our heads towards the well.

***

Taylor is the first one to approach the well. She advances slowly, her eyes fixated on its wide opening. When she reaches it, she peers down, then gasps. She calls out to Noah, and he runs to her side. 

It’s important to know that Noah is in love with Taylor and will do almost anything for her. It’s sad, really. He’s like an obedient dog. Even if Taylor screams at him, steps on him, or beats at him, he will come back, as loyal as ever, tail tucked tight between his legs. You could even say he has “fallen head over heels for her.” I stifle a small giggle. 

Yes, Noah is in love with Taylor, and he will always look out for her. I can count on that, especially tonight. It’s very reassuring.  

Taylor bends over, with half her body leaning heavily into the well, and points. She calls out to her cat, for it is her cat down there, the one that’s been missing for six days. It’s true what they say, you know. Cats always land on their feet.   

Taylor is panicking now, almost fully bent over into the well. Her legs are high off the ground and she’s extending both arms as far as they’ll go, though she will never reach her cat. It’s too far of a drop. Her body slides forward another inch.  

Out of the blue and into the black.  

Noah tells Taylor to stop, and listening carefully, I can hear the inflection in his voice; the initial trace of uneasiness is overtaken by outright worry. He is scared. 

You pay for this, but they give you that.

Taylor slides forward another inch, then another, promising Noah she’ll reach her cat. 

And once you're gone, you can't come back. 

Then, in one fell swoop, Taylor falls forward down into the well and Noah lunges to grab her. He misses terribly and tumbles in after her.

When you're out of the blue and into the black.

I look over at James whose mouth hangs wide open. He is shocked. I pretend to be too. Then, we rush over to the well just in time to catch the ending of it.

As fate has it, Taylor’s fall isn’t too bad. She scrapes along the side of the well walls, trying desperately to grab ahold of anything. Her nails must be torn to bits, but she buys herself enough time to see the approaching ground and braces for impact with both arms stretched out. When she hits the bottom, it looks like only her left arm snaps.  

Noah isn’t as lucky. He descends straight down and lands squarely on his knees, splitting them open on shards of broken wood. 

From down below in the depths of the well, my roommates scream for help. Well, Taylor does. Noah is screaming, I am quite sure, because he can’t feel his legs. 

Two down, one to go.  

I am so close, so close to some peace and quiet. And now, for James. I look over at him and watch his mouth move, watch him cry and scream, promising sweet nothings to his friends.  

Do I want this? Do I really want to do this to them, to him? It’s not too late to stop, not yet anyway. 

I look at James once more and feel rage run through me. Suddenly, the answer is clear: Yes, I do want to do this. I really want to do this, especially to him. Because when I fell, he never caught me, he never even tried. And I thought, I really thought— 

Out of the blue and into the black. 

You pay for this, but they give you that.

I shake my head. Really, tonight is all about James and the price he will pay. 

And once you're gone, you can't come back,

When you're out of the blue and into the black. 

So, when James bends far down into the well, and extends a hand that will never reach Taylor, I push him. I push him as hard as I possibly can, with everything I have. He stumbles and falls forward, headfirst. I can see most of his body is down into the well, but he fights back and grips the side of the walls tightly, bracing for balance. He actually manages to wedge himself in between the walls and stop himself from falling all the way down. I watch the muscles in his arms shake as he tries to hold his own weight.  

He can’t stay like that for much longer.  

James whips his head around, yelling at me, pleading with me. But I’m not listening. Then there's a moment, before I deliver the final blow, when we lock eyes. I stare into his eyes, and he stares back into mine. I suppose he’s searching for something in me, compassion or empathy. Or even guilt. I know he won’t find what he is looking for.  

Even in this one, fleeting moment, before his certain death, he still sees right through me.  

And so, I grab a log I left close by, hold it high above my head, and bring the wood down hard onto his back. He loses his grip and goes down easily enough, headfirst. I hear a loud thud, then another sound, too, almost like a crunch. He does not scream.  

But Taylor does. She calls out James’s name and shakes him. He does not move.  

Good. Three peas in a pod, all tucked in nicely now. I wonder how long it will be until someone finds them.

Noah yells at me, cusses at me. But it doesn’t bother me, not even in the lightest. I find some of the names he invents amusing and double over in fits of laughter. He can be so creative when he’s angry. Can’t we all? 

I stand there and watch my roommates for a long time, until eventually they get tired, and settle down. I can be quite patient, when I want to. 

I call down to Taylor, who is holding her left arm tight against her body. She looks up at me and I toss the flashlight that I brought down to her. 

I share a secret or two, then tell her there’s supposed to be a new moon tomorrow night, and that the darkness can be all-consuming.

*** 

Before I leave, I look down at my old friends one final time, and see the pain and shock wash over their faces. Hadn’t they always known? This couldn’t have ended any differently. 

And in a way, they had pushed themselves down there, hadn't they?  

They certainly had been the ones to push me here, and now, finally, I had pushed back. Yes, I had pushed them back, and to a much darker place, like the one my mind so often went to. 

Out of the blue and into the black. 

You pay for this, but they give you that,

And once you're gone, you can't come back,

When you're out of the blue and into the black. 

As I turn my back on my roommates, I hear their screams echoing off the well walls, funneling out into nightfall. The surrounding thicket of trees catch their screams, muffling them, like a small insect caught in a spider's web. The adobe ruins stand motionless, nothing more than weathered remnants of human habitation. 

No, this could never have ended any differently.  

And so, I smile. Because for once, I am focusing on my wellbeing, and not theirs. For the first time in a long time, I am truly free.