Fan Fiction ❯ Atheist Camp ❯ Chapter IV ( Chapter 4 )

Atheist Camp

Chapter Four

 

By Violet Dragon

 

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There's so much beauty in the world that people don't recognize or appreciate; sometimes I think I'm the only person who feels those passions surging through my body, like some sort of never ending, painful drug.

 

I came to consider Jean as a very close friend; even slightly closer than Allie, the dear girl whose hair I so fondly braided, despite her thick dreadlocks. It was approximately five days after I had started speaking to Jean, who was now an open book at my own discretion. He was a delightful boy once pried open. However, the day after our first encounter by my special tree, I approached him once more to be treated as an infectious disease that might destroy him if he got too close to it.

 

Apparently, after our first meeting he was afraid that he had offended me with his numerous, bold questions about my personal life. I assured him, while handing him Kleenex to wipe away the waterfall running down his face, that I am rarely offended and certainly not by him. We spent many hours discussing earliest memories, the government, favorite animals or TV shows, and the possibility of extraterrestrial life forms.

 

Allie was not included in these conversations. Jean said he decidedly did not like her; which I obviously frowned upon since I loved Allie very much. Whenever she hopped over to us, bearing a lovely smile and her personable disposition, Jean scowled and announced quietly that he was needed elsewhere. Thus far Allie didn't think anything of his apparent dislike of her, although I knew that she was definitely aware of it. After he went off she sat next to me on the green blades protruding from the dirt, laughing about the latest comical event that just occurred in one of the girls' cabins.

 

“Why don't you like her?” I demanded of Jean one evening.

 

“I just don't,” He replied sharply. We left it at that so far.

 

I didn't know if he was aware of it or not, but I realized that he was, of course, indubitably lying. Or at least he was refusing to tell the entire truth about him and Allie.

 

Nevertheless, it was the best summer I had ever experienced in my short lifetime. The mornings were full of activities that Allie and I more than gladly partook in, and the evenings usually consisted of “s'mores” and conversations with Jean about anything and everything.

 

I wasn't sure if I was taking on the role of my Dominick to help young Jean, but I couldn't help feel fulfilled as I discussed those difficult things with him.

 

There was another horrid night where I had that dream again… with the hands exploring my body and touching my private feelings, wiping tears off my soaked cheeks and licking my empty heart. The man with the large hands got off me when finished, and went away as I cried my sore little soul inside out. I stared at the ceiling, which appeared to be occupied with millions of stars, planets, comets, and moons. I smiled a little right then, sucking in snot through my nose, trying to calm myself down.

 

The scenery suddenly changed, but not so much as to shock me. It was a rather pale, white room with nothing inside of it. Except for Dominick. He went over to me, and kneeled beside my shaking persona. I tried to smile at him, but ended up scowling thoroughly due to his abrupt suicide. He looked at me with his sad, bright eyes and touched my nose with a single index finger. I raised my three-fingered left hand and held it in front of his face, still scowling.

 

“Please… don't hate me because I fulfilled a dream.” He took my disfigured hand in his two perfect ones.

 

“I hate you because you left me,” I replied venomously.

 

“Your hand is beautiful, little Eric the warrior,” he renewed my old nickname, “so stop punishing those around you.”

 

I laughed without happiness. “I don't punish anyone! I love my parents, I respect them; I am kind to Allie and I give her my friendship. I feel connected to young Jean, and I help him with arms wide open. How could you say that about me?”

 

He smiled, though his face was still sad. “Because you do punish… you never open yourself to anyone. Do your friends or family know anything about you, truly? I barely knew about your strong emotions, your passion, and your harsh anger. I barely knew of your sadness when you looked at all the beauty in the world. I watch you now—what is so sad about beauty, Eric? Why can't you be content in the Earth's beauty? It's just as fragile as you are.”

 

“I don't want to talk to you anymore…” I pulled my deformed hand away from him. “Stop telling things about me I don't want to hear.”

 

“Okay.” He said, and stood up and walked away. I remember screaming something after him, but I woke up too soon to remember exactly what there were.

 

I woke up after nine, missing breakfast. I realized later on, as my cabin mates informed me, that they had desperately tried to wake me up or get me to respond to them. They told me that I had been sleeping like the dead. Dreams are curious, bizarre things.

 

I ran to my tree, which was growing yellow and red leaves too soon. Staring up at it, I nearly tripped over Jean's nimble body, crouching just below the tree out of my sight.

 

“Someone's unstable today…” He groaned impatiently.

 

“I can't help it, I woke up late and didn't have breakfast and I had really weird dreams last night and now I'm sleepy again.”

 

He blinked at my quick speech—I do that when I'm tired or much too aware. “Where's your girlfriend?” He asked sarcastically.

 

I smiled, and rolled my eyes. “You know she isn't. And you know that it's pointless to be sarcastic in front of me.”

 

“I know it's pointless to pretend I'm okay with her existence.”

 

“Ooh, that was cruel and unusual… Don't say things like that, she is my friend and I am loyal to her.”

 

“You speak so formally,” he yawned, laying back so that the clouds flitted over his eyes in various wispy formations. “I hate clouds,” he mentioned.

 

I laid back with him, stretching my lithe body out upon the stretch of ground. “I love clouds… they keeping changing, disappearing and coming back… they're dynamic and aesthetic.”

 

“They're too white,” he announced.

 

I started snorting at his simply blunt retort. “That's ridiculous! That's an awful reason for not liking clouds, and I condemn you to my prison of unintelligent peoples.”

 

“I condemn you to my prison of peoples with bad taste in friends…” he muttered back.

 

“You are such a bitter person… you'd think all the fucked up things I've gone through in life, I'd be so much more bitter than you. At first sight, you're an innocent looking youth, quiet and shy, yet so polite to adults. But then when someone actually gets to know you…”

 

“Yeah, they realize I'm an angry little teenager looking for revenge,” Jean smirked.

 

“At the risk of sounding patronizing—don't worry, it'll get better. It will.”

 

“Hah, I doubt it. How can you be so optimistic?” His voice changed, as well as his eyes developing a nervous look, shifting his focus from my face to the ground.

 

“What do you mean?” I frowned.

 

“I mean… you're nice to me, help me… you stood up for my brother, you stand up for Allie. You actually listen to what people have to say, that is unless you disagree… then it's debate city.”

 

I laughed at his words, about my debating addiction. Although I rarely argued with my friends, I mostly challenged camp counselors, adults, people who think they're right because they have more experience.

 

He continued with that impression of worry on him. “And I heard that your mentor… your friend killed himself and you saw it happen right in front of you.”

 

The smile on my face left immediately. I wasn't surprised he knew about it, since he was in the camp when it happened, but I hadn't met him until after the Dominick “incident.” So, it seemed odd to bring it up two weeks after Dom's death… after all, I had been avoiding discussing the subject with others.

 

“I do not want to discuss it,” I said harshly, ashamed at my words. In my dream, Dom was right—I didn't share anything with anyone, I was a book with a lock and no key.

 

Jean's eyes began watering, obviously upset but expecting this reaction from me. “I-I'm sorry… I won't bring it up again. I was just curious to how you could overcome such pain…”

 

He scooted away with stealth, wrapping his arms around his folded legs, looking very uncomfortable. I wasn't sure if he was serious about my “overcoming” the pain of losing Dominick. How could anyone overcome the loss of someone you love so intensely you want to kill yourself after their own death? I closed my eyes and sighed loudly, rubbing at my forehead in hopes of taking the ache away.

 

“Jean, don't be like that… You're really serious? You think I've overcome that pain?” I half-laughed without humor. “That's the most absurd thing you've ever said to me, and you have said many absurd things!”

 

He looked up shyly, smiling a little. “I guess it is stupid… I never got over the death of my kitty.”

 

“Well, yeah, even when I lost my favorite toy when I was ten, I haven't gotten over that. You have no idea the severe excruciation I've been through. I suppose that I just wanted to be stable for you, like Dom was stable for me…” I felt moisture taking the form of tears.

 

“I already have stability… just not happiness.” Jean said softly. “I just wanted someone to listen to me was all, and you've done more than enough for me than anyone ever has. You have no idea.”

 

I nodded, finally content from my fears of what I was doing with Jean.

 

He stood up, brushing himself off. “Well, I think we've had enough pussy talk here,” he said. “I better get out of here before someone starts throwing rainbows in my face.”

 

I laughed at his blunt crudeness, wiping my face off with an already dirty sleeve. “You do that… I have to meet up with Allie. No comments!” I added quickly, seeing the look on his face.

 

He leaned over a little, brushing at my tears with a thumb, and proceeded back to his cabin.