Continued from page 281

I feel someone pull hard on my shirt. I spin my head and see Ben, his eyes shooting back and forth between me and a corner of the room. I have to look past a wide beam of bright white light shining down from the ceiling, but I can see into the corner. Two long panes of chest-high, dirty, gray-tinted Plexiglas lean against each other at an acute angle, held up on the other side by a wooden wall. It's a triangular cubicle, if that's even possible.

And here's the thing about tinted windows, you can still see through them. So I can see the jarring scene, albeit in gray scale: Margo Roth Spiegelman sits in a black leather office chair, eyes closed, completely still. Her hair is much shorter - she has choppy bangs and everything is messed-up, as if to emphasize the asymmetry - but it is her. She is here. She has relocated from an abandoned mini mall in Florida to an abandoned barn in New York, and I have found her.

We walk toward Margo, all four of us, but she doesn't seem to notice us. She just sits there, not even so much as a slight stir. Finally, someone - Radar maybe - speaks up, "Margo. Margo?"

Nothing. Again we hear Radar, only slightly louder this time, "Margo!"

Once again, nothing. From somewhere behind me I can hear Ben, "Oh no."

I can feel my legs start to move, but not as if I gave the order for them to do so, they just slowly move towards Margo. Carefully I made it to the tinted plexiglass and with one swift motion I push it to the side. I could finally see the full scene in front of me, a scene I will never be able to burn out of my skull.

There in front of me was Margo, with one slight change that I didn't notice until I moved the glass. A bottle, resting gently in her hand, with a very distinct purple liquid inside of it, a liquid where even the smell will make you sick to your stomach. Only half of this liquid was missing, and with the scene in front of us we all knew where the rest of that purple liquid was.

From behind me I could hear the slight gasps as everyone noticed the bottle in her hand. Everyone has a different reaction. Radar got sick almost instantaneously and had to run off, Ben gets a look on his face that is a mix of depression and anger. Lacey had the worst reaction, the second that she processed the information of what happened she broke down into tears, and not just the light cry you get from a horrific day, no this was the type of cry that is caused by a full-fledged traumatizing event that will never be forgotten. And then there was me, no sound, no movement, no sickness. I just stood there, I stood there for what felt like hours or even days.

Here I was, Quentin Jacobsen, a new high school graduate (well kinda), standing in front of the dead body of the person I had always admired the most. Watching as the light changed while time moved on, waiting, listening, hoping that what I see in front of me was not what I thought it was. Hoping that this wasn't real, that is was some sort of sick nightmare. But it's not, what's in front of me is real, the people behind me are real, the room I am in is real, and knowing that only makes it harder to believe.

After another long while time starts to catch up with me. Gradually I hear the loud cries of Lacey and Ben trying to comfort her. I hear Radar enter the room, and I feel as he puts his hand on my shoulder.

"Quentin" he says in a calming tone, "we need to get going."

But I just stood there. He started to pull on my shoulder, and again I wouldn't move. This continued for probably five minutes before he finally said, "Okay, fine, be that way. Be at the van by sunrise or we are leaving without you."

And with that he left, bringing the crying Lacey and the depressed Ben with him. Out of the 'shop' and outside towards the nearest motel so they could get some rest.

It was just me now; no Ben, no Radar, no Lacey, not even Margo Roth Spiegelman, just me. I felt this pain rise from my chest, nothing like the pain you get from crying, not even like a rage, just pain. I felt my legs growing tired as well, it's as if my whole body was beginning to ache just because I saw this.

After a couple minutes of agony my legs finally gave out and I collapsed onto the ground next to Margo. And so I just laid there, next to Margo, feeling the pain grow ever so slightly. I don't have a single thought in my head besides one, that I lost the single most important thing to me, that I didn't even realize it was so important until now.

My eyes begin to shift to the bottle, still only half empty. I look back at Margo, not allowing myself to think about that damned bottle. But my eyes continue to steal glances at it, and each time it is increasingly difficult to look away.

This cycle continues until I could no longer focus on anything except the bottle, and there was only one thought remaining in my head, that I had nothing. That everything I wanted and aimed for since I was a child is gone. That I have lost what was most important to me. That my entire world was pulled from under me.

I felt my hand reach out and I observed as it took the bottle from her hand. Sluggishly I brought it towards my lips. I could smell it now, the sickening aroma that could bring me to exactly what I wanted the most: Margo Roth Spiegelman.

Without doubt I drink the remaining liquid in the bottle, I have to regrets, no second thoughts, my mind remained on one thing, seeing Margo again.

My thoughts began to fade and I felt my body go numb. My vision darkened as I was greeted with one image, and it's not the one I expected. It wasn't Margo, but instead it was seeing Ben, Lacey, and Radar running into the building. My friends, running towards me. At that very moment I felt a pull of regret as they sprint towards me, and then my vision goes black.