red

she herself wasnt affected by it; she didnt even know anyone who was. it would have been strange if she did, actually, given the randomness of it--terrorists leaving bombs on five underground cars. she rode it every day, used the aldgate station in fact, to transfer on her way to class, so maybe it wouldnt have been surprising if it had been she who had died down there rather than that high school girl or that middle aged man who worked at the british library giving tours. it had happened days ago and london was beginning to heal, the color was returning to peoples faces and the city was regaining some of the noise that had been eerily sucked from the streets like milkshake through a straw, every bit of mirth and carelessness just gone, as if this was a routine, as if people were used to things like this happening and knew exactly how to act- stoic. she couldnt stop watching the news, even then, almost a week since people ran to catch the last train in their time frame of not-being-lateness and ended up ashes. she was glued to the tearful faces of the wives who had lost husbands, of the children who had lost parents, of the parents who had lost entire lives-- just like that, no time to say goodbye and it is all gone, all gone forever.

she was fascinated and almost sickened by how one person can become so single and so crucial and so central and how if that one person is gone, just a tangled web of veins and bones and neurons, life becomes utterly meaningless, no matter how many other wonderful people there are around you, no matter how many other wonderful people there are left in the world to discover. no matter what is in store, the fact that so much can live inside of one other person, and that that one other person's welfare is essentially beyond your control, paralyzed her. she wasnt thinking soley of romantic relationships, her one other person was her mother she knew without even asking herself. but part of her did think about that, about finding the love of your life-- and knowing it, knowing it inside you so blankly that there was nothing more true than that-- and then losing them randomly to a bomb in a backpack. because see, and here was the thing that kept her from going to school for the last week and the thing that kept her engrossed in these desparate sorrowful testimonials on the news-- meeting that person, finding that love of your life soul mate, was not random. she simply could not live a happy or satisfied life if she thought otherwise. things are meant to be, and even if there is some rule that states "things are not meant to be," for her, in her life, they were. and it was the reason she kept on living and it was the reason she still had hope and it was the only thing she knew. and therefore because she felt that so deeply and so wholly, people getting killed because someone built a bomb and placed it in the 4th car of the train that came at 7:54 am was so incongruous and so unsettling she was, as literally as is possible, coming unsewn.

as she was watching the evening news the saturday after it happened her friend brian rang and insisted she come out.

"elise this has gone further than is ok. you must come out tonight or i am calling your family and i am telling them that you havent left the flat in a week and are eating a spoonful of peanut butter a day and im telling them that i think you need some serious fucking help. i know youre torn up about this, we all are...its hell, its absolute hell to see this happen to human beings where you live, to see this happen to your home. but you have got to leave the house. youre acting self centered and you arent that. youre stronger and smarter than this."

she was silent. there was a commercial on TV for cadbury chocolate that had two chickens with bunny ears on and she wondered how in the hell they stayed still long enough to allow that to happen to them.

"elise? ill see you at the palace on brick lane alright? we're all meeting there at 8 and then going to that club down the street, remember the one? the one when you danced on the couch and broke the heel off those pink shoes?" she didnt say anything. "ill see you there and im not kidding around if i dont im calling your family."

she waited for him to hang up but he didnt. she could still hear him breathing. the news came back on but the daily coverage of the bombings was over. each day there were less minutes spent talking about it. she wondered how that made people feel, people who had escaped but who had seen body parts littering the seats. people who were left behind, with an empty side of the bed and a half eaten plate of curry in the fridge because his stomach started to ache before he had finished it.

"brian?"

"yeah im still here."

"ok ill see you there then."

"elise thank you. i swear this has to happen. you will get better, we all will."

but she just didnt know if that was true, or even what better was. was better how she felt before all of this? because that wasnt that good, it just wasnt this bad. maybe this is better, maybe this is a necessary step in reaching the best and shes just closer than anyone else.

"alright then, bye."

she put on her favorite red dress, the one that she got at camden market for ten pounds, and a pair of sneakers. there was no way she could prance down the street in heels, click click clicking along. before she left she looked in the mirror for the first time in days and wasnt surprised. she looked like she was in mourning, she looked dishevelled and pallid. so she put on her brightest blood red lipstick and pinched her cheeks and then she walked to meet up with her friends.

she drank wine and ate a meal and she tried to laugh and people were sympathetic, saying things like, i hear youve been taking this whole thing really hard, its so tragic, i couldnt believe my eyes. her friend james who had loved her always and who looked at her with the most searching eyes she had ever seen put his arms around her and said, "i think its so sweet that you got so worked up about this whole thing." and she looked at him and said, "its not sweet james. its fucked up." and crossed her arms and tried not to cry.

they went to the club and the music was louder than she remembered and it wasnt crowded enough for her. suddenly what she wanted was to be crushed by the weight of other people. she wanted to lose everyone she knew or recognized in the vast mass of other people and she wanted to wonder around a maze of strangers for the rest of her life, never resting her eyes on the same person twice. she wanted anonymity and rootlessness. she wanted to never have to explain herself, she wanted to do or say something and have it just exist as it is, without the weight or burden of other peoples expectations or preconceived notions of her blurring the essence of it. she had to leave.

she began walking down brick lane towards mile end road. she hadnt told anyone she was leaving and she hadnt brought her cell phone with her on purpose, so there would no one to answer to, no one taunting her from the zipper compartment of her pocketbook. even though she was still not being crushed by mobs of people, it felt better to be moving, to have no one keeping track of you or wondering why. she kept walking and walking and pretty soon she was nearing central london, making her way further and further west. she got to the kings cross station, which was heavily boarded up and blocked off. there was a giant vigil though, with some people there though it was almost one in the morning. flowers and notes taped to the fence, dolls and books and little offerings to people who no longer exist. people who no longer exist.

she walked up to the fence and read a note. all it said was

this is not happening.

she opened another and it said

dear sweet you. the worst part is, i am reduced to a note taped to a chain fence to tell you things i hope you already knew. its silly isnt it, youre laughing at me now for coming here, for being so maudlin but i always have been. i do not know how i will go on living. the only thing i keep thinking about is that one time. you know the one i mean. i will stay alive if only to remember the way i felt at that moment. i will never love anyone the way i love you.
-gopher
p.s. youve done it, youve died with your shoes on, just like you always said you would.

she read as many as she could find, even though something about it felt very wrong. she cried as she read them, she cried so hard that she was sure the people who came and went thought it was her who was grieving. and then she realized she was, she was grieving on behalf of any human being who has ever grieved. she was grieving for every person who ever lost something or someone and knew that they would never be able to get it back. she sobbed out loud and after she had read almost all of them, she kept walking, just as she was, sobbing out loud and not worrying with wiping the tears. there was a small half moon of tears on the bib part of her red dress.

as she passed by trafalgar square there was a group of three guys sitting on the statue with the stairs, the one that is always drenched in tourists and pigeons. two of them were leaning back and one of them was staring at her, she could tell though she was many many yards away.

they had taken acid seven hours ago, just the three of them, in toph's hotel room. his was a recognizable face now, at least in america, and his popularity as a model was getting increasingly strange. he was only 22, he hadnt finished college, and up until the agency bought him a loft in LA he was still liviing with his family in ohio. when he was told that he was going to london for a fashion shoot that would appear in british elle and that the companys private plane would take him, he told chase and ryan that they were coming with him and they did. they had gone to a party the night before where a beautiful woman asked to kiss toph and afterwards handed him an envelope with enough acid to keep him trippping until he was middle aged. so they took it, for the first time, and wandered around london until they found trafalgar square. they had gotten there hours ago and chase and ryan had immediately fallen asleep. toph wasnt sure if he had, he had been in an odd dreamful waking state, alternating between bouts of bolting straight up and then having to calm his heart down and feeling like syrup being poured through a sifter. he could feel his blood flowing, everything was so slowed down. and it felt good, it felt real, like all this time there had been too much static clouding the truth-- that if you listen close enough you can feel your blood moving--and for an instant the static stopped and he got it. he needed this, this trip with his two best friends. it was hard not to feel like you were living a new life, or in a new dimension. his face was on a billboard in times square and another one on sunset boulevard, right beside the chateau marmont. sometimes he felt like the old him had died, that the funeral had been when he signed the contract with the agency and they clapped and patted him gruffly on the back and shook him hand and pumped it one too many times. the funeral had been when they said, yeah yeah we like this dirty grungy look be sure to not gain any more weight and be sure to -yeah yeah! like that- push your hair to the side of your face but dont tuck it behind your ear. be sure to not get too much sun because we like this pale look, its real marketable, this things gonna sell.

it was nearing dawn. he had just awoken from a dream where he felt like he was leaning back in his chair like he used to in middle school and then he started falling backwards, into an abysss that had no bottom. he sat up with a jerk and looked around. there was no one in sight except for a cab that just passed and a tiny tiny red dot down the street. it was a person, walking towards them.

"whatre you doing man" chase said without opening his eyes. he wrapped his arms more snuggly around his t-shirted torso.

"im in love with her," toph replied, though he wasnt even sure if it was a girl yet.

"whatre you talking about? theres no her here."

ryan sat up slowly. "im still fucked dude"

"tell me about it. why are we even up right now" chase said and blinked his eyes open.

"im in love with her." chase and ryan followed his eyes to see what he was looking at.

"dude toph im not even sure thats a girl. and how do you know you like her so much anyway?" ryan said.

chase lay back down and said, "he likes her because he knows she'll like him."

and it was partially true so no one said anything after that.

elise was approaching trafalgar square and still she was sobbing. as soon as she saw people sitting on the steps of the statue she quieted her sobs, but she didnt wipe her nose or her eyes and the tears were limitless and steady. she could forsee no good reason that they would ever stop, and for the first time that seemed fine to her. she would be like that boy who had the hiccups for 6 months. the girl who always cries. theres enough fodder, isnt there? it really shouldnt be so shocking. more of you should try it, really its a brave and real thing to do. that would be her bi-line. its brave to do what im doing. try it for a fucking second and youll see, you cowards. youll see.

as soon as she walked within the actual sqaure toph could make out her hair color and general features of her face and though he thought it couldnt be true when he first noticed it, she was crying. as soon as it registered, as soon as ryan said "shit man, tell me shes not crying" toph had bounded from the stairs on the pavement and ran towards her.

she wasnt scared, mainly because he was beautiful. but she didnt try to dodge him or avoid his path and she didnt wonder if he was on drugs or if he was going to drug her and kill her or if she would ever see her mother again or what it would feel like to be shot in the stomach or what would it feel like to be thrown to the cement or what would it feel like if this wasnt really happening, if the whole bombing crying peanut butter beautiful man running towards her thing was just a dream, a nightmare with a strange twist at the end. she just kept walking and kept crying, the tears hadnt found the finish line yet, it wasnt even in sight.

he hugged her. he ran to her, barefoot in his dirty white shirt and his truly old jeans the ones from ohio that his mother forbade him to wear in public, and stopped one step in front of the step she was about to take and she pretty much just walked into his arms. and she kept crying while she was there and she hugged him back and he said

"im sorry."

and they looked at each other for a minute before she kept walking west, getting further and further from home.