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Ryan Sylander Looking Through The Lens http://www.asstr.org/~ryansylander/ Chapter 7
A pristine silence woke me up.� I lay with my eyes closed, completely immobile, on my back, and feeling nothing.� Then my eyes opened slowly. The first thing I registered was a brightly lit, textured ceiling.� It looked familiar, which I thought was most odd.� The second thing I registered was a strange taste in my mouth.� Like I had slept with a pack of spearmint gum in my mouth. �Another decidedly weird sensation. �The third thing I registered was breathing.� I was pretty sure it wasn�t my own, since I was surely dead.� I turned my head to the side, and was surprised to see Lara laying next to me.� Furthermore, I was in my room, and it was eerily cold, like the windows were open, even though they were not.� The room was awash in bright white light.� I also noticed I had a splitting headache.� For being dead, I sure felt like crap.� Not unlike being alive, I thought to myself grimly.� I sat up all at once.� �Oh my god, Matt, are you okay?� said Lara, springing up next to me.� She looked terrible, all red eyes and crazy black hair. I looked around, and saw a lot of snow outside, and a crumpled piece of paper on my desk.� Was I still alive?� The last thing I remembered was drinking from the bottle of whiskey, and then a cold darkness. �Where am I?� I asked, somewhat confused. �In your room?� Lara looked at me with a worried look.� �How do you feel?� �Like shit.� What�s going on?� Why are you here?�� All the events and thoughts of the previous night were still with me, bouncing around like ugly echoes.� Apparently drinking yourself to death didn�t get rid of your problems, just as adults had always warned it wouldn�t. �I� I was watching you, and then I fell asleep.�� Tears filled her eyes.� �Matt, I�m so sorry about last night, if I had known that� � I waved a hand at her and grimaced.� �Stop, stop,� I said dismissively.� �Why am I in my bed?� Lara hesitated.� �Last night, when I heard your door open, I thought maybe you were going to come talk to me,� she said, letting out a sniffle.� �Then after a while you didn�t come, so I came out to see where you were.� When I saw you weren�t in your room, I thought maybe you went to the cabin.� There were some footprints outside, so I followed them up into the woods.� I rubbed my face uneasily.� The realization that I was still alive was bearing down on me like a leaden weight. �I found you laying by the stash, with a broken bottle in your hand.�� Lara started crying again in earnest.� �I thought you were dead.� Me too, I thought.� My stomach felt like a tempest.� �But you were still breathing,� she continued hauntingly, almost whispering, �so I made you throw up until all the whiskey was out.� �Okay, just stop, my head is killing me,� I said, feeling woozy.� I laid down again on my bed, feeling gloomy and depressed.� Lara cried quietly for a while.� My head was pounding like a hammer now.� I vaguely wondered how she had gotten me home, before drifting off into unconsciousness again.
The next time I awoke, Lara was sitting in a chair by my bed, watching me with her stricken red eyes.� I stared at the ceiling for a long time.� I felt a little more alive, but I still had a giant headache. �What time is it?� I asked, with detached voice. �Nine-thirty,� Lara said quietly. �Aren�t we late for school?� �Cancelled.� Oddly, one wish had come true at least.� Reality was sinking in: �Lara had saved my life, for better or for worse. �Here,� she said, holding out three Tylenols and a glass of water.� �What did our Moms say?� I asked, as I swallowed the medicine.� �About what?� asked Lara quietly. �About me.� �Nothing.� They left an hour ago and won�t be back till late as usual.� �Well, didn�t they wonder why I was fucked up?� I asked pointedly. �They don�t know anything about it.� I covered for you,� she said, almost submissively. �Couldn�t they smell the whiskey?� �I put some toothpaste in your mouth and opened the windows early this morning.� �Why?� I asked. Lara was quiet. �Why did you do all this?� I asked again. There was a long silence. �I was scared for you.� I didn�t want you to get in trouble, or get hurt.� After�� After��� Lara started crying again. I turned to look at her.� She regained some of her composure, but didn�t continue. �How did you get me back to my bed?� I asked. Lara swallowed back some sobs.� She then spoke slowly and quietly again.� �After I found you, I panicked.� I tried to pick you up, but I could only sort of drag you a few feet at a time.�� �So you dragged me all the way back?� I asked, incredulous. �No, I knew I wouldn�t be able to, so I got one of our old sleds and rolled you onto it, and then dragged you back on that.�� Lara shuddered visibly.� �Then I managed to pull you up the steps and into your bed.� Through the emptiness I felt, I still marveled at her feat.� It sounded like something Peter would have done.� She was lucky our parents didn�t hear her.� I was lucky they didn�t hear. The thought of my friends made me wince.� Even though school had been cancelled today, I would have to face them again soon.� And a glance at the crushed and crushing letter on the desk reminded me that most everything that was important to me was gone.� My girlfriend had cheated on me and dumped me, even as I had trusted her and been faithful.� My bandmates thought I was some weirdo, and likely I wasn�t going to be skiing with them or Brian anytime soon.� And worst of all, my own sister, whom I thought I could trust, had kept something so unbelievable from me.� There wasn�t much left right now. �Matt?� �What.� �Why� Why did you go out to the stash last night?� Lara asked. I didn�t say anything, just continued to stare at the ceiling. �Were you trying to hurt yourself?� she continued.� �Was it because of me?�� Choked sobs punctuated her questions. I rolled away from her and closed my eyes.� Her crying drifted into my ugly dreams.
When I came to again, Lara had another glass of water for me.� I sat up, and drank greedily.� I felt almost human again.� The headache had receded, and my stomach was empty but relatively settled.� It seemed Lara had gotten to me before the alcohol had entered me fully.� Probably I had passed out from exhaustion before I did any serious damage to the bottle.� I still felt desolate.� I didn�t think anything would make that go away. I sat up at the edge of my bed, acutely aware of my body.� Lara watched me intently, but I avoided her look.� After an eternal silence, Lara spoke. �Matt, I�m so sorry about last night.� I stood up and walked out into the kitchen.� Lara didn�t follow, and I could hear her crying in my room.� I felt a slight pang of pity for her, but the emptiness squashed that feeling away as quickly as it had come. I fixed myself a bowl of cereal and ate it quietly at the table, watching the snow continue to fall.� At this rate school might be cancelled another day, I thought.� It would be wonderful if it snowed for a month straight and I never had to leave the house again. I reflected on my situation.� One thing that kept making me cringe was the realization that Brian had been right.� I had put effort into writing Julie, and avoided pursuing any one else.� And now that was just a waste.� I could just see him telling me that he had said so.� After some time, Lara came out and sat at the dining table across from me. �Why won�t you talk to me?� I sighed. �There�s nothing to say,� I said.� �Everything sucks, alright?� My friends are all assholes, and Julie�s gone.�� I left unsaid what I thought about her. �Don�t say that.� You don�t know, maybe Julie is just in a lull.� I told you, she goes through phases.� I looked at her with contempt for a moment.� She had no idea what I was going through.� I went into my room, grabbed the crumpled up letter, and rolled it across the table to Lara.� She looked at it fearfully.� I didn�t wait for her to unroll it, and instead went out the back door.� I stood for a long time, watching the snow fall, and feeling detached from the world.� I didn�t have to look back to know that Lara was reading the letter.� I hiked up to the guest cabin, wondering what to do.� Out of habit, I picked up my acoustic guitar, and played like I never had.�
School was cancelled the next day as well.� Over those two days, I came to the conclusion that I was pretty much alone.� If I couldn�t trust my girlfriend, friends, or even my sister, then there wasn�t much point in trusting anyone else ever again.� I would just have to deal with that and move on.� I didn�t feel any urge to try drinking another bottle of whiskey.� I was in control of my thoughts and body again, and in retrospect I was scared of what had happened that night.� I didn�t want to go there again.� Somehow a collection of bad events had reached the intersection at the same time and caused a terrible accident.� But now it had been cleared, and there was just some broken glass on the pavement, and scrap metal in the dustbins. Every time I saw Lara, she looked at me with haunted eyes.� I avoided her, and she soon stopped trying to talk to me.� My parents knew something was wrong between us, but we didn�t say anything about it.� I could tell they were watching me closely, so I tried to act normal, even though I didn�t feel normal anymore.� My only friend was music.� Somehow, when I picked up the guitar that day, it spoke to me for the first time.� I felt like I had been trying to talk to someone who was sleeping, and suddenly they woke up, and there was a conversation where there had only been futile monologue.� Playing was still frustrating, since I couldn�t always get the guitar to say what I wanted it to say, but that seemed to parallel the way life went.� At least it was talking, though. After two days of barren self-examination, it was time to get back on the bus.� Lara stood away from me as we waited.� I wasn�t sure if I was going to sit in the front or the back.� As I stepped on, I saw Brian, Peter and Carl in their usual seats.� I steeled myself and walked to the back.� I would at least say my piece, and then whatever happened, happened.� If I sat in the front, it was a clear sign that I was going �soft.�� I put my bag down, leaning against the window.� No one spoke at first. �You can all gloat now,� I said bitterly. They didn�t say anything. �Julie wrote,� I continued.� �It�s over. �I guess you all were right about her.� More silence.� I was acutely aware of every little sound the grumbling bus engine made.� Finally Peter spoke up. �I�m sorry, man, that really sucks.� I was surprised to see Carl and Brian nod in agreement.� They looked sullen. �Well, it�s over now,� I said. ��It doesn�t matter anymore. �I suppose it was obvious a while ago, but I didn�t want to believe it.� �Are you still pissed at us?� asked Carl. I felt some resentment at that, but I let it blend unchallenged into the rest of my anger.� �I�m pissed at everything right now, man,� I said, �but I�ll get over it.� It�s nothing personal.� �I�m sorry about Julie, man,� said Brian.� His voice was sympathetic, even as his expression was slightly �told-you-so.� I just shrugged. �Do you want to ski this weekend?� asked Carl.� �The snow should be killer.� I looked at him, and saw that he was asking in earnest. �Yeah, let�s do it,� I said, feeling some relief that I wasn�t completely an outcast.
I am ashamed to admit the next few months were not my best effort as a human.� To put it bluntly, I acted like an asshole on the outside, and I was desperately lonely on the inside.� I shut out everyone emotionally.� I played my guitar relentlessly, drank and partied with my friends, skied as much as I could, and got to the point where I could just turn off any unwanted emotion. �I numbly floated through life looking for the next thrill, and ignoring everything else. Inevitably, I hooked up with Carmen at a party in February.� We were both drunk, and she was practically sitting on my lap by the end of the night.� I didn�t really like her all that much, but we ended up going into the bathroom and making out for a long time.� It was animalistic kissing and fondling.� Our relationship, if you can even call it that, was intermittent and mostly physical.� I went as far as I could until she stopped me, usually when I tried to unzip her pants.� I was mad that she didn�t want to go all the way with me, but then I would come back to try again.� It was better than nothing.� Whenever she reached for any emotional closeness, I took a page out of Brian�s book and pushed her away with sarcasm.� Lara started going out with a junior jock.� I instantly disliked him, for no particular reason.� Lara and I had several yelling episodes over her relationship with him, ending in slammed doors and crying on her part, and anger and disgust on my part.� Over the past month Lara had let her schoolwork slip, and was drinking more than I had ever her seen her drink before.� I hardly had a sister anymore; we only spoke to each other if we had to.� Our parents tried to intervene several times, but there wasn�t anything they could do.� I didn�t want to talk about anything with them.� I think for some time they were puzzled by my attitude, since I had never been openly rebellious or resentful towards them.� They didn�t know how to handle my sudden anger at everything. They suggested counseling, and just to shut them up and put the pressure off of me, I went a few times to the high school counselor.� I just answered his questions as neutrally as I could, blaming everything on Julie.� I had a bad feeling this wasn�t going to be allowed to go on forever, though. I hit a new low at a house party in March, when Carmen and I, completely trashed, went into one of the bedrooms and locked the door.� I was already in a bad mood because Lara and her boyfriend were drunk and fooling around in the yard.� We sat on the bed and made out.� I didn�t even know who�s room we were in; some girl�s room, it looked like.� As another night of the same old tame kissing progressed, I was getting impatient and frustrated.� After a while I got up and told Carmen I had to leave.� �Wait,� she said, laughing giddily, pulling on my hand. I tried to wriggle out of her grip, feeling the anger start to rise up and push through my drunkenness.� �I want to do it.� I was surprised for a moment, since she never let me do anything besides touch her breasts.� But her words were crystal clear. �There was no mistaking her meaning, as it was written all over her eyes.� I had been trying to get into her pants for a month, so maybe she was finally ready.� I wasn�t in the mood anymore, but the sudden possibility of sex was too strong to resist. �Okay, take off your pants then.� She sat motionless.� I stood and pulled my pants down, and watched as she slowly stood up.� Here eyes were not as willing, all of the sudden, but she pushed her pants and underwear down around her ankles anyway.� I wasted no time, laying her down on the bed and opening her legs.� She looked nervous, but I didn�t really care.� I felt around between her legs and found her hole.� I guided my dick to it, and pushed in. Her eyes went wide with shock and pain.� I felt her petite body tense up under me as I bottomed out inside her.� Tears welled up and ran down her temples, melting into her hair.� I moved in and out of her, as she closed her eyes tightly.� I just wanted to cum as fast as I could, so I could stop suppressing my conscience and get the hell out of there.� �Okay, stop, stop� she gasped, quietly and urgently.� I was close to climax, so I ignored her.� I pumped in with one last thrust and spurted into her.� �Stop, please!�� She pushed on me until I rolled off of her.� She was crying. �I�m sorry,� she whimpered.� �It hurt more than I thought it would. �I just couldn�t keep going.� I�m sorry.� Shit, was she a virgin?� I thought Brian had surely had sex with her.� But obviously they hadn�t, or she wouldn�t have just said what she did.� As guilt started edging its way into my thoughts, I forced myself to push it away.� My head was thumping; I couldn�t deal with this.� I was on the verge of being destructive. �Oh my god, are you okay?� she asked suddenly. Carmen was sitting up, and staring at my penis.� It was covered in blood.� For a second, I was in shock.� I had heard that sometimes girls bled when they first had sex, but this seemed like a lot.� �That�s your blood,� I said, almost accusingly. �Oh, I didn�t know it would be so much,� she said timidly. �She suddenly stood up, looking wide-eyed at the bedspread where a dark red stain had formed under her. �Oh, fuck!� I said.� I was feeling ill, and needed to wash off the blood as soon as possible.� I looked around and found some tissues, and rubbed the worst of it from my penis.� I threw the box on the bed towards her.� Carmen took some tissues, and she wiped herself while I put my pants on.� I pulled off the bedspread and stuffed it under some dirty clothes in a hamper that stood in the corner. �I�ll wait for you outside,� I said, walking out into the hallway unsteadily.� I found the bathroom and washed off the rest of the drying blood with shaking hands.� My face felt bloated from the drinking as I splashed it with cold water.� Had I really just fucked Carmen?� And all this time she was a virgin?� I looked in the mirror at my deep set eyes, trying hard to focus.� They looked back heavily.� What was I thinking?� What was I even doing here?� When had I lost all self-respect and replaced it with selfishness?
The next morning I really had trouble keeping my thoughts straight.� I had a bad hangover, and all I could think of was how to get a hold of some beer or liquor.� Our stash was empty though.� When I was sober, it was becoming much harder to avoid thinking about what my life was becoming.� I needed to change something, or I was going to go crazy.� Again. Before dinner, I watched Lara doing her homework for a few minutes.� Was it too late to repair our relationship, I wondered.� I slowly went up behind her, intending to ask her to take a walk out back with me.� For a long time I just looked at her black hair.� Then I walked right by and went to look for a snack in the fridge.� I wasn�t really hungry though, just lost in thoughts of a time when life was easier.� �Matt, do you need to get something out?� asked Melissa.� She had a strange look on her face. I shut the fridge and walked out the back door, patching up the hole through which memories were pouring. That night I was playing guitar in the cabin, when Melissa came in.� She sat on the edge of the easy chair with her chin in her hands, and looked at me.� I didn�t think she came up to hear me play, but I played on anyways. �Matt, put the guitar down,� she finally said. I trailed off, sighed, and then put the guitar on its stand.� I lay back on the couch, looking at the ceiling. �I thought maybe we could talk.� �About what.� �I don�t know, whatever you want.� What�s on your mind?� �Just playing my guitar.� �Do you have any thoughts?� �No, not really.� There was a long silence.� I tried not to breathe. �I want you to tell me what�s going on,� she said.� Her tone had changed for the worse. �With what?� I asked evenly. �With you.� �Nothing,� I said, like every time before.� I didn�t think I would get away with that today, though.� Only a few times had I seen the look that my Mom had on her face right then, and she obviously was at the end of her rope. �Matt, I don�t want to hear that anymore,� she said, her voice getting suddenly heated.� �This shitty attitude has to end, and it has to end now.� �I can�t help it if I feel like this,� I said. �No, maybe not, but that�s not an excuse to treat your sister, and your mother, or even me like you have been.� I know you are angry about what happened with Julie, but why are you taking it out on your family?� �This isn�t just about Julie,� I said. �Then you better tell me what it is about.� I sat quietly for a while.� So far, this was a repeat of a dozen other conversations I had had with them.� �I�m just not happy.� �Why not?� What�s missing, what do you want?� �I don�t know.� Melissa let out a loud breath of frustration.� She stared at the floor for a while, and seemed to come to a decision.� She stood up wearily.� I was ultra-tense on the couch, hardly breathing. �Well, if you want to keep playing that game, then there are consequences.� No more going out to your friends� at nights, no more skiing, no more band practice.� I don�t want to do this, but your mother and I don�t know what else to do.� Her voice softened some.� �Matt, we love you.� Your sister is really taking this hard. �Whatever is wrong between the two of you, and it�s affecting her school, and her attitude too.� �That�s her problem,� I said with a shrug. �Fine, Matt, then you heard what I said,� she barked, voice hard again.� �No more going over to Brian�s.� No more coming up to the cabin to play your guitars, no more skiing.� �Fine,� I said, trying to act unimpressed, although my insides felt very empty. Melissa looked at me.� �Get back down to the house.� I didn�t move. �NOW!� �Alright, I�m going.�� I got up slowly, and walked out, not waiting for her.� She didn�t come down for a long while.
Over the next few weeks, I was withdrawn as I withstood the grounding.� It was difficult not playing my guitar, especially as I had made such progress in the last few months.� But I didn�t feel like talking to my parents any more than before, so nothing changed.� I did, however, have time to do some reflecting, and one thing I did was to tell Carmen I didn�t want to be with her anymore.� I felt cruel as I did so, but I couldn�t treat her in a good way.� Brian and Carl had infected me with relentless sarcasm and detachment regarding her, and it wasn�t going away easily.� If I liked her more, I might have made the effort, but I just couldn�t invest in the relationship.� She was obviously crushed, even though I was sure, somewhat sadistically, that this was actually for her own good.� I didn�t ever say anything about the night we had had sex, and neither did she.� I also put out of my mind the possibility of her being pregnant.� My friends were puzzled at why I couldn�t ski or play music anymore.� I blamed it on my grades, but they knew something else was up.� They didn�t press, and I didn�t offer any information.� Our friendship since that terrible night had been much more hedonistic than it had been before.� As a result, I could detach from them as necessary.� The lack of anything else to do allowed me to do homework and study more.� My grades went up, and I read a great deal, losing myself in the science fiction world of Tolkein. April came and went in a barren emotional state:� I felt like a machine when I wasn�t reading.� Lara broke up with her boyfriend messily.� But I didn�t even care what she did anymore.� We had settled into a position of non-relating housemates, even though sometimes I wished I could be friends with her again.� But I put those thoughts away as fast as I could when they came up. The skiing season had ended, and spring was seeping through the valleys and starting to crawl up the mountains.� My parents had planned a weekend camping trip to Lake Placid in mid-May with a couple of friends, and originally they were going to leave Lara and me home alone during their trip, with an occasional check in from neighbors.� However, they decided that we would be coming with them instead, and all my curfew limits were still in place.� I couldn�t bring my guitar, either, something I always enjoyed doing on camping trips. � What at first looked like a miserable three-hour-plus car ride each way, with a lot of reading and fishing in the middle, ended up being a turning point in my life. |