💾 Archived View for clemat.is › saccophore › library › ezines › textfiles › ezines › ANADA › anada22… captured on 2021-12-03 at 14:04:38.

View Raw

More Information

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

                                                                  #
 anada   "Rhinos, Rocketships,                                    #          
 225         and Little Boy            +###           +###    +####    +###  
                  Vampires"           #    #  #  #   #    #  #    #   #    # 
                                by   #     #  # ##  #     #  #    #  #     # 
 28                            Amy   #    .#  ## #  #    .#  #   .#  #    .# 
 nov                                  *###  * #   *  *###  * *###  *  *###  *
 2000 .+#################################################################.net

        We lay there on our backs, bored completely with blowing the fuzzy
 heads off of the dandelions.  Staring straight at the wasting sun in the
 cemetery.  We were marvelling at the spots from the sun still in our eyes
 even after we looked away.  We are laying there, all alone in the cemetery--
 right on top of the graves--feeling so fearless.  Beneath us were the bodies
 of those who had stared at the sun before us.  So close to the dead.  If
 only we had known how close to death you truly were. 

        Go back... To the night we were laying in the field.  Sucking on
 popsicles (to get the taste of the stolen cigar out of our mouths) and
 talking about if little boys come back as vampires if they died.  The gray
 clouds crossed over the moon like a scene from a horror film and we were
 terrified.  We vowed then that if one of us was to die we would come back
 somehow.  As a purple rhinocerous, a chain rattling ghost, or a vampire.
 Just to let the other know what the other side was like.  We stared at the
 moon.  At the blue/grey clouds strewn across it and decided that it wasn't
 as scary as we thought.  That a blue moon must mean something significant.
 If only we had known then that I would carry that moment in my pocket
 forever.

        Christmas time--1993, you and I lay there.  In grandma's floor.  This
 time on our bellies.  Older, we discussed more important things.  I had my
 boyfriend and you asked me questions about kissing.  You had your ball games
 and I asked you about winning.  The lights from the tree reflected in your
 eyes as we agreed that when we were a few years older we would drive to
 California and find your real mother.  I said I would do anything if it
 would make you feel better about things than you had been.  You said to me
 that it would be so cool.  To go and go an go till we found her, or
 something so amazing that we wouldn't even take a picture.  That some things
 were better just burned into your brain.  You let out a long sigh and we
 made our 1994 resoloutions.  To always be close and to remember our pact
 forever.  If only we had known that today I would still be looking for that
 'something so amazing'.

        Christmas eve (still 93--3 days later), I'm laying there.  Daddy has
 just dealt me the news.  Accident... belt... hung... DEAD.  Flat on my back.
 Instead of Christmas music I hear Boyz II Men.  It's so hard to say
 goodbye... The room is so dark and tears are streaking my makeup.  You are
 not there with me, but you are.  The mix of emotions are more than I can
 bear.  What to do?  Where to go?  But whatever I did or wherever I went it
 would have to be alone.  Chrismas eve, you asshole.  Why did you leave me on
 Christmas eve?  (anger) Oh my god... there is no god... (futility) Empty,
 hollow, pitiful, painful rage swept through, above, around and within me
 untill all I could do was go on.  If I had only known then that I should
 have held on a little longer so the guilt wouldn't eat me alive today.

        The last time I saw you.  Lying flat on your back.  Staring at the
 sun through your closed eyes.  Pillows of satin surrounding your sweet head.
 As I bent down to kiss your forehead (though you would have socked me if I
 did it when you were 'awake') I couldn't say goodbye.  I still can't say
 goodbye.  I still turn when I see a 12 year old blonde boy, though you'd be
 19 today.  I notice people's teeth now.  I watch the skies and nature shows.
 Looking still for a rainbow, a rocketship, a purple rhinocerous or a little
 boy vampire just so I can know you are ok.  I could care less what the other
 side is like, just to know you were happy.  I guess if I only knew... I
 could finally see you on our way.  (Love you Kissyfur! @--/---Mamie)

        christopher william karmann died as the result of a hanging accident
 on 12-23-93.  he was 12 years old.  my cousin named after my father.  i was
 16.

 .+##########################################################################

 anada225 by Amy                                                     (c) 2000
 ###################################################################anada.net