“What are you waiting for? Open it! Aren’t you curious to peak inside?”, Death said.

“Go away! This is private and doesn’t concern you!”, I said.

“Everything concerns me when it comes to your wellbeing. Go on, open it. What’s the worst thing that it could possibly be?”, Death asked.

“The end of my friendship. The end of my memories. The end of my chapter”, I answered.

“Always so sullen and pessimistic. Have you considered the possibility that might be the beginning of a new chapter?”, Death said.

The truth was, I was too much of a coward to tell Tuck about Asher and all the rest of it. Too afraid that he’d no longer want to be friends with someone who’s been tarnished, desecrated, defiled, or violated. I thought about telling him earlier but wasn’t sure how it would’ve helped. What happened already happened and there was nothing Tuck or anyone could have done to undo my blasphemous transgressions.

We sat silently for a while - drinking, contemplating, reflecting - until Tuck stood up, undressed, and waded into the river.

“I haven’t had a bath today. Man, I stink!”, he shouted.

Tuck briskly splashed his body with the frigid water before leaning back and dunking his head. The sun glistened on his chiseled smooth body, accentuating every taunt muscle and vein. Tuck dove under the water before resurfacing with such an energetic vigor that it created hundreds of undulating concentric ripples.

Tuck, the Baptized.

Tuck, the Protector.

Tuck, the Cleansed.

Tuck, the Absolved.

Tuck, the Reborn.

The comforting smell of sumptuous leather and hypnotic rhythm of rumbling tires gently stirred me awake as Casey Kasem’s silky voice introduced Donna Summer’s, “Last Dance” over the radio. Mother’s steely gaze was focused on the road ahead, and mine to the passing countryside dotted with assorted billboards hocking fast food, gas stations, and cheap hotels. Except for this one enormous sign that featured a photo of two pompous preppies propped against an Oak tree, blissfully gazing at one another with a nauseating self-righteous smirk. Emblazoned across the bottom of the placard was the tag line: “Your future starts here. Oak Wood Academy: Educating southern leaders since 1870”.

“Look up. Look around. Inhale. Exhale. Live for you are not yet dead”, Death said.

My eyes were open but I was blind. I inhaled but it was suffocating. I lifted my arm but it was paralyzed. I had unceremoniously been exiled into a vast ocean of nothingness devoid of pain, joy, happiness, agony, love, hate, expectations, or disappointment.

I closed my eyes and resumed my trip on the alien ship. We skyrocketed high into the black abyss hitting light speed through the Universe until we slowly landed on a giant orange moon with thousands of glass dome-shaped pods that glowed a neon-colored green.

My heart was pounding, the thrill of the moment made me excited and nervous. But I didn’t want anything from Johnson apart from seeing how much anguish and torment I could inflict. It was a dangerous game, one with unfamiliar rules, and perilous consequences.

The day’s first sunbeams burst through the lifting fog, transforming the cold dreary landscape into one of warmth, hope, and renewal. I closed my eyes and savored the light on my face and imagined all those years ago, a boy pausing amid despair, for one brief moment, to dream.

Boasting and bragging were her drugs of choice. They gave her the fix she craved - at least for the next couple of hours.

Lainey was already dressed when I returned. She’d pulled back the curtain flooding the room with the harsh exterior landing light that made it impossible to see her face. We briefly stood there in silence when she turned, opened the door, and walked out.

The malodorous stench of life, death, blood, piss, shit, and antiseptic crept down the hallway, burrowing itself deep up my nasal cavity. The taste coated my tongue and oozed down my throat.