Eternities

“Listen . . .”

I glared intensely at my pencil, gripped in my white-knuckled hand. How was it possible for something to be so annoying? I’d been sitting under the hellish sun for an eternity. The bustling around me was a dull buzz—just another fish in the sea of noise. Why should I listen when there’s nothing to listen to?

“Relax yourself,” the demon beside me mocked me in a honeyed voice. “Let the sounds consume you completely.”

My pencil snapped.

I saw her open an eye and peek at me. “You’re not listening.”

“No dip.” I stuffed the broken pieces of wood in my pocket. Yet another to add to the collection.

Theresa turned on the bench to face me. The sun lit a ring around her head and I had to squint against the brilliance of it. “This is useless.”

“For you, maybe. But seeing as this is meant for me, you shouldn’t even be here.” She marked something on that infernal clipboard she always carried around. I wanted to rip it from her grasp and chuck it across the park.

We’d been through this so many times. Over and over. Every day, we came here, to this bench, and just sat. We sat while the dogs and their owners passed. We watched the runners and elders pass by. Then, when the sun was beginning to set, we shut our eyes and listened. That was the part I hated the most. How many times I’d heard the word listen was beyond me.

Every time, she gave me a pencil. It was so weak and snapped so quickly, I knew she had a whole box of them that she’d rigged. If it snapped, I had to come back yet another day.

“I hate this.”

She raised a groomed eyebrow. “Then why are you still here?”

  I glared at her and crossed my arms over my chest. “Because my parents are forcing me to.”

“They can’t force you to do anything, Lindsay. You know why? Because you don’t have parents.”

“They can and they do.”

She remained silent. And I knew she was waiting for me to leave. But that would mean she won. The second I stood up and left, she would laugh behind my back and just keep haunting me. She’d tried this before. I would never let her win.

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest. “Nice try. But I’m not leaving.”

She shrugged and laid across the length of the bench, kicking her feet up and laying her head on my lap. I shoved her off and she nearly tripped a jogging grandpa. He gave us a weird look. I gave him one back.

I was used to the weird looks. There wasn’t a person who passed that looked at us like we were lunatics. Not a mother that hid her child from us muttering that we were “just crazy”.

They were all right. I was crazy. Theresa was the one who caused it, though. She followed me everywhere and even brought me into her world while I slept. There wasn’t a moment when she didn’t have her hand wrapped around my collar, like I was a dog.

She first found me on this exact bench where she tied a rope around me and dragged me through the portal to her world. Then she got the police called on me because she kidnapped me past my curfew. After that, it was the trips to that disgusting alcohol-smelling light green building because even my own parents thought I was crazy. Theresa messed up my life and I was determined to get rid of her on the very bench she found me. Even if I came every day for the rest of my life.

“You know you could just walk away.”

She hummed. I wanted to wipe the mocking expression right from her face. “Yeah, I don’t think so. You have to get over this little phase of yours first.”

My teeth gritted together. Maybe they would fall out some day—along with all my hair.

I waited for another eternity, when finally, the sun set and I was free to go. But not free from the monster called Theresa. I cursed her devilishly beautiful face and scornful attitude with every breath that stung my lungs.

I walked fast and was careful to keep my eyes glued to my feet just in case Theresa brought more of her monsters into my reality. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of seeing me make a scene in front of everyone.

We should move to New York, I thought for the millionth time. I’ll fit in perfectly there.

I pushed the key into the lock of the apartment and opened the door. I called that I was home to whichever of Theresa’s demons were listening, so they knew to stop harassing the neighbors.

I ran to my room and dragged one of the many boxes from under my bed and threw the split pencil in the nearly filled bin. I’d already filled at least a dozen more and wasted more money on pencils than I had on anything else.

I ran to my hamster Monsieur Fluffs and pulled it from its cage. I set it on my bed and made sure to cage it from Theresa’s demonic critique. As always, my attempts were for naught.

“I don’t know why you still hang out with that thing.”

“It serves more comfort than you.”

She gasped and held a hand to her heart as if I’d shot her. I might as well have. “But I thought I was your best friend.”

“You thought wrong.”

Then she started bawling, like a baby who had its candy stolen. She melted into the floor and I made sure not to laugh, worried she would reappear.

I lay down as my chubby hamster climbed across my stomach and arms. I watched the ceiling swirl into shapes, continuing the story we’d paused this morning.

*  *  *

“Ah, you’re back.”

“Always. Do you have more?”

“Always.”

The Song begins to sing its story again. It sings to me of it’s adventures across seas of monsters and long treks across blistering fields of sand and through jungles of yammering monkeys.

Every day, I come to it willingly and it sings to me. I am grateful for its song. The melody is never the same, always flowing like a river. Every day, there’s another story to sing.

The Song is certainly the most real thing in my life, but Theresa can’t reach me here. The Song cages her back in her own world where she can’t reach me for a time. Sometimes it's magic is stronger than usual and it can suppress the demon for a full night. In that case, I explore it’s world until it’s time to go back to my reality.

I close my eyes and listen to it’s song. The melody rocks me in its arms and comforts me into a state of peace.

The song lasts an eternity. But this eternity I am glad to live through.

This eternity ends too soon. But I’m glad the Song holds on to me longer.

“Have you been listening?” it asks.

I look down in shame. “I listen every day, but there’s nothing to hear.”

The Song holds me closer. “Are you using the wands?”

I glare. “Theresa keeps rigging them. They’re not working.”

It rumbles in disappointment. Not for me, but for the demon it must leash from me. “I will send Monsieur Fluffs to guard the wands. We can’t have any more infected.”

“Can’t you cage Theresa for an eternity?” We’ve been over this a million times. I know the answer, but I hope that the Song has strengthened since our last meeting.

“Even a thousand eternities can’t hold Theresa. But if you listen, you won’t need a thousand eternities.”

I frown. “How will I know if I’ve heard it?”

“The wand will tell you. If it doesn’t break, you will know you heard right.”

“What about Theresa?”

The Song sets me down as it loses strength and I am slowly pulled back to my reality.

“Only you can chain Theresa. But first you must listen. Theresa can’t hear it, so the only way she can stop you is by cursing your wands.” It hums for a moment. “Monsieur Fluffs knows to watch.”

The Song begins to swirl together like a paintbrush being dipped in a cup of water. I know this part. It will sing to me one last time, reminding me to listen before I am sucked fully into my world.

I relax and let my body melt back into existence with the knowledge the Song has provided me with.

*  *  *

The newly bought pencil rested in my hand. I glared at it, willing it not to break. Monsieur Fluffs watched the pencils for me and he informed me that he managed to stop Theresa from rigging my pencils again.

I just managed to escape the light green, alcohol-smelling building and immediately made my way to the cursed bench. Theresa bugged me the whole way. Always complaining about her feet or her head or my pencils. It was always something with her.

I sat cross legged on the bench and stared. I ignored the bustling activity around me just as easily as any other day. But just as any other day, I couldn’t help the twitching of my jaw, or the grinding of my teeth as Theresa did whatever she could to get on my nerves.

But the Song continued to remind me silently of the task ahead. I had to find it’s song.

I clutched the pencil tighter and waited for the sun to set. The only time when I could hear it. I watched young groups of teenagers pass and a speed-walking troupe of grannies. I watched dogs play with frisbees and children wrestle each other. But mostly, I watched the sun. It mocked me, taking a thousand eternities to fall down. Every time it seemed to shrink lower, it just jumped back up and laughed at my pitiful hope.

But finally, finally, the eternities came to a halt and the sun's mockery was over. Half its face was forced behind the horizon. I laughed at its inability to hold back the song any longer. But the Song reminded me to remain sincere. I acquiesced and shut my eyes, still clutching the pencil in my always white-knuckled grip.

“Listen . . .” I told myself.

“You’re ridiculous,” Theresa complained.

Though it pained me deeply not to shoot an insult back, I ignored her. I listened intently, not willing to let her get in the way of my thoughts again. I was sure of myself today. Her attempts to rig my pencil had failed and the Song had given me power.

“I don’t know why you even try anymore. It’s never worked and today’s no different.”

But even with all the positivity, my eyebrow still twitched. Theresa knew how to get to me. I had to bite my lip to keep from saying anything.

“Your Song can’t get rid of me and neither can you or your eternities.”

That was the last straw. My eyes sprang open and I smacked her, but my arm went through nothing. She disappeared and reappeared behind me, playing with my hair. I swatted all around myself, but I couldn’t hit her even once.

Her mad laughter all but suffocated the looks I was receiving from others. Their eyes, Theresa’s, the sun’s, all of them were burning red fires blistering my skin and melting my bones. I swatted at my arms and Theresa plumped down beside me, rubbing my cheeks to get rid of the burns.

“They’re gonna come for you again if you keep swinging at nothing,” she said.

“I’m not swinging at nothing if you’re here. And I’m not sure I’ll ever be free of you.” I glared, still burning up. “You’re the one’s still setting my skin aflame.”

She bent over to pick something up. She blew on it and wiped it like it was dirty, then dropped it in my palm which she’d ripped away from my blistered arms. She shut my fist tight around the wood of the broken pencil. “Your time isn’t up yet.” She smirked and pet my head like I was a lost puppy. “A few more eternities might do the trick.”

I smacked her hand away, my burns suddenly irrelevant. She disappeared. I knew she would be back. To scorn and mock me about yet another broken pencil. She’d be back to pick a fight and then comfort me like she was my best friend. She would always be back.

I opened my fist and peered at the splintered wood laying in my palm. I shut my eyes tightly, trying to drown everything out again. I held the pencil tightly and thought of the Song and the comfort it always brought. I imagined the partnership between it and Monsieur Fluffs. I imagined the pride that would seep into its song when it found out I trapped Theresa.

Theresa appeared beside me. She laid on her side, her chin resting in her palm. The nasty smirk always glued to her face was replaced with pity. “Let me guess,” she puckered her lips. “You didn’t hear anything.”

I glared at her and she rolled onto her back resting her head in my lap like she always did. “That’s okay, dear. You’ll hear it someday.”

She brought a hand up to stroke my face. And as always, I shoved her off.

“Hey!” she yelled.

“I hate you and everyone else in your stupid demonic realm! But this is my eternity. You’re not welcome here.”

She chuckled. “Oh, sweetie, you can’t get rid of me like that.”

I sent her one of her own demonic grins. “Oh, I know I can’t. Not in a million eternities. But now Monsieur Fluffs has an eye on you. Remember that all your stupid friends live in my apartment” —something I reminded her of quite often— “and I can watch you all. One day, no matter how many eternities it takes, you will get tired of me and leave me alone.”

She laughed and flung her arms wide. She ran to me and wrapped me in an enormous hug. “I’m so glad you don’t want to get rid of me.”

“That’s not what I said!” I shoved her away.

“Here. Take your stupid pencil. I’m so glad you want me in your life.”

I groaned and looked at the sun. “Would you turn off already?” Its eyes crinkled with mirth as if it found my comment funny, but there was no other response.

I glared at my feet as I plumped back on the bench. Just a few more eternities and maybe, maybe, she’d finally be gone. But until then, I had to listen.

 I heard nothing. Just as always. There was always nothing. Deep down, I knew there wasn’t anything. But someday, maybe I'll finally hear it.

If I just listen.