Betty’s Going to Play Outside

“Okay, so that window's magic?” he wasn't pleased.

“Yea, nobody understands magic these days.

“Nobody understands you, to be more precise.”

“Thanks,” I looked at the window. 

“I wasn’t...”

I’ve been living in this teared house for some time. Because I never have visitors, because when one’s alone, one does weird stuff like talking to themselves or making a cat out of an empty can—calling her Betty—I found out about the magic in this window.

“Anyway, let’s just focus on the magic,” I grabbed Betty, who was sitting near the window.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Look at Betty, I think she’s ready.”

“She’s an empty can!”

“An empty can I took time gluing together with a hand-drawn cat on a post-it note.”

“I think I should go home.”

“Which makes her special,” I pushed Betty’s post-it-note tail to his face, "And… if you see the bottom…"

“Okay, I’ll be going.”

“Okay.”

You know what they say, life is not about the destination, it's about carnival. All that music, all those lights. I call those buttons of a human controller. You may call it a nightclub, live music, a primeval campfire ritual with sacrificed children. It’s all the same. Some pressed buttons, the others dance. I don't need music nor lights for this yet though. It’s not like he has other choices.

“Okay, show me the magic.”

“I like it that you don’t doubt the magic,” I said.

“I… found my way, so if you can show—what's with that smile?”

Hahaha, despite that sarcastic tone, that insincerity in his green eyes, I think he didn’t want to miss out the magic. Even when chances of payoff are infinitesimal, I heard some people are willing to work hard so that they don't miss out on anything. Hahaha, they ended up missing everything.

“First, you knocked the magic window 3 times,” I grabbed his hand and knocked it gently to the window, “Then you chant this: Betty’s going to play outside.”

“Betty’s going to play outside.”

“Again!”

“Betty’s going to play outside.”

“Louder?”

“BETTY’S GOING TO PLAY OUTSIDE!”

“You know what, I think you need to knock while chanting,” he moved his hand without my assistance, “And fast, knock it fast!”

To our screaming and knocking, bubbles emerged outside the window in the middle of the air. It multiplied from inside out, slowly turned colored—white, red, pink, brown, green, all kinds of colors. The see-through bubbles popped as the colored bubbles slowly turned solid. A human body—his body—stood still outside of the window like a mannequin, waiting to be filled with soul. I looked at my friend as he peered into the soulless green eyes.

“Do you still want to go home?”

I opened the door and walked to the soulless body. While the chest expanded and shrunk—breathing—his eyes froze just like my friend who witness it all. And I know it’s not just the soulless body. Whatever outside the door wasn't what he saw from the window. And it teaches him. Hahaha, while some windows show you what you want to see, you need to go through the door after all. Beware though, you ended up finding something totally different. Hahaha. Ah, this kind of moment. The couch with some relaxing music would be perfect.

“What…” said my friend as I found the most relaxing melody—still carrying the body on my shoulder, "What you gonna do to me?" he looked at my chest where the music flowed.

"Expectation, they called it?" I put the body on the couch and sat, "I expect much from you, you know?” I looked further into those green eyes that weren’t at me, “And when you expect something, your experience and feeling be enhanced for the worst,” those green glanced at the red spots scattered on the couch and carpet, “Or for the best.”

“Do you want me to feel tremendously bad, my friend? Or do you want me to feel terrific?"

"What do you want?" his voice weakened.

"Details. What happened to Betty?" I increased the volume of the relaxing music, but not so much that his voice still going to be the strongest sound in the room.

"I know no Betty!"

"Oh, you do."

"I really don't," his eyes reddened.

"Calm down," I stood and walked to him.

He backed down and then crawled, giving me his back, "You don't want me to hurt the body,” said I, pointing my sharp part, “Betty’s going to play outside,” chanted I.

He looked back, "Betty's going to play outside."

"Betty’s going to play outside,” a new coat of blood painted my coach some more.

I let the dripping ran into my carpet, "Betty’s going to play outside." 

The tip of my right forelimb that I pointed at him lowered down as his cheek flooded with tears. I gave him some shallow wounds, but it wasn’t fear no longer in his face. It’s her coming back to his head. It’s the rumored smart and pretty little Betty. It's the girl that's been long gone and won't come back no more.

"Come sit, my friend," I grabbed a medical tape I’ve been keeping.

"Tell me what happened to Betty."

"She… She must… someone must've… I… I could've.... What have I done?" he trembled.

"What have you done?"

"I… left her…"

"No, you don't."

"I DID! I made her stay. I couldn't… I… All I've wanted is to make everything go according to what I want."

"Because you're special?"

"I'm not."

"Almost all of my thinking parts know that—at the very least—your essence is,” I paraphrased, “special.”

“But, forget it. What killed Betty?"

"I killed her."

"Yes, okay. But, no. Details?"

"I killed her…"

"What did she do before she died?”

“I—”

“What happened to Betty?

“—killed.”

“Did the tipping—"

"—her."

"Okay."

I turned off the music and let silence linger.

"You killed her."

"I killed her…" he cried harder.

"I can bring her back if I know how she died," his green eyes were straight to my eyes for the first time, "You just need to let me know the details."

"I... I killed her…" he shook his head.

The silence wasn't enough, I thought.

"You…" I let the silence linger some more, "killed her?"

"I killed her, I killed her, I KILLED HER!"

"Is the tipping—" he nodded, "Ah…" I stood, "And I expected much, my friend," I pat his head and ready to go out the door.