Her Gracious Visage
10:00

I packed up my ego in my backpack, and went to class. It didn't feel much different to be there than any other day, after what I'd just been through – it only made the quiet parts louder. So loud they were silently yelling in my hot, red ears. But nobody else seemed to care... I think, it was because they already knew. Without hearing a thing, they already knew I was exactly that type of person, to strike out and make awful mistakes – I was just late to figuring that out. Maybe that's why I spend so much time on the bench during games.

In English, I'd pretty much already finished my assignment, so I thought about what had happened. Donning my sunglasses, I put my head into my arms on my desk and went to work: visualizing a chain of command. It had to go something like:

Company Owner → Manufacturer → Distributor → Commercial Seller → Customer

...but because my grandma was buying up cigarillos from the stores and selling them to teens, it had turned into something more like:

Convenience Store → Crystal → Users → Secondhand Users

...which meant that if I could find out who was selling to Crystal, I could wait for her outside the store, and ask her why The Strings and the people at Shady Acres seemed to be working together, somehow. Maybe she was giving discounts to keep the attendants quiet, so she could operate her business. Maybe the Strings were her distributors, since none of them were old enough to buy. Ron called me a "Grifter". Did he think I'd stolen something? Are they missing some of their supply? Where do they keep it in the first place? Another question joined the others: who was letting her buy in bulk? No old lady can smoke a dozen boxes in a week, not even a French one.

As I pondered these mysteries, I may have dozed off a little bit. I slipped into a dream...

In the middle of a vast field, I stood alone with my back to the sun. In front of me, on the dry, yellow grass, was my shadow. Then it rose up, becoming solid, like a black ball of fluid... until it was the same shape as me. Two glowing white eyes flickered into being, and its hand reached out... it spoke in whispers, and the wind behind it raged. Leaves flew at my face, blinding me, and when they cleared I could no longer see the shadow in front of me. Then my own hands turned pitch black, and on the ground was my sleeping body, face down in the grass. I turned the body over, and it looked at me with wide, open eyes – yellow, instead of my hazel green, without a nose, and with horrible shark-like teeth that snapped together with a maniacal grin. I thought at first it was Dryo, but he was menacing... he didn't look like he held my soul, if that makes sense. More like he wanted to eat it, and make himself look more like me. He raised his sharp claws to me and said...

"You're gonna wake up and I'll be where you once stood."

I shook my head, but he continued.

"And then you'll never wake up again."
And he lunged at my throat and began to choke me... to death, if he could.

I woke up, my glasses falling off my face, to find the entire class looking at me. I was panting, and sweating. Immediately I became embarrassed, but before I could think another black figure seemed to materialize in the doorway. Was I still asleep?! And yes, I wear glasses, sometimes. When I'm in school, mostly. If I break them in sports, Daisy can't afford to replace them – so I miss a lot of pitches. You get good at feeling and hearing where things are, though. Or smelling them... and what I smelled right then and there was the stink of nail polish and cigarettes, with a hint of rancid lipstick breath.
"Darling, you're late for your appointment."
It was some skinny elderly lady with black hair, dark, dark sunglasses and jet black lipstick, matted. The wrinkles on her face creased as she smiled, but the powder on her cheeks seemed to fill in the gaps. She had on a tall black coat and black heels with dark spiderweb tights, and around her neck was a fuzzy black scarf... with a white-tipped tail. Wait... the umbrella! This was Crystal?! How could she have changed so drastically AGAIN?!
She turned to the teacher, while somehow managing to address the class at the same time. "I'm Dryce's grandmother, he just doesn't recognize me because I've had a makeover quite recently. Dryce, à moi, s'il vous plaît?" She breathed out through her nostrils a puff of smoke, like she'd been holding it in since she walked in from outside. She pointed at me with her umbrella as if it were a magic wand.
All eyes were on me again, but this time they were wider, and more vacant. Their breathing was fast and shallow, like they were under a spell, and all of them were just waiting for me to do what she said... or else.
"Nice, uh, fur scarf."
"Do you like it? It's dog's fur, black labrador to be specific. It's very rare."
"Don't dogs have to die for that?" I asked her, bluntly.
"I saw it in a movie, once," she said. "It looked hot on her, I figured we could spare a few mutts."
"Was she cackling maniacally?" I narrowed my eyes.
She tilted her head and mused, "Well, she laughed a lot."
Of course that would seem normal to her.
Then she scowled. "What are you trying to imply?"
I looked around at my classmates, not wanting to make any more of a scene. "Nothing, Grandma."
I stood up and packed my bag. The teacher watched me do so, only half-aware of himself. He had to have smoked himself, so what made her so entrancing? Was it her psychotic confidence, perhaps?
I jabbed, "You sure did a one-eighty, from Cool Skater Chick to Fashion Designer."
She chuckled, "A true model can wear any style as if it were her own skin."

"You're also talking differently." I walked up to the door.
She put her right arm around me and hooked her umbrella into my backpack's left strap.
"A look is more than simple appearances... it is a way of life. Come now."
She raised the umbrella over my head so that her arm was now on my left, and started dragging me down the hallway. As I looked behind me, the kids in the classroom turned down their heads and went back to work as if nothing strange had occurred. What kind of hold did she have on them? Or maybe she just needed to vice-grip herself, and make them all curious why.
Crystal kept dragging me until we were out the doors. Then, before going any further, she said, "Wait."
We stood for a moment just outside the school. I waited, and she caught her breath. She took out a thin, black cigarette holder, with an actual cigarette inside, and lit it. It looked hilarious to see someone holding their one arm so far away just to light it, but I wasn't in much of a laughing mood, myself. She took a deep hit, then she blew it specifically (and very intentionally) in my face. I coughed and gagged and slowly that prickly, bright feeling overtook my scalp, and my heartbeat turned into a steady drumming.
"We're going to get you a pocket lighter, my dear. You can't imagine how it makes me look to have my own grandson betray me like you do, acting like you're so 'clean'. I have an image to keep up. And we're going to get you a burger... triple grassfed beef patties, since you're such a food snob, with cheese and bacon. That's PROTEIN, mon ami, tu comprende?"
"But I'm vegan", I reminded her.
"Oh give it a rest. You think you're better than everyone else here just because you starve yourself in the name of what you call 'good'? That you're somehow a better person, like a little tweenaged Jesus Christ running around with the whores and thieves? Well I've got news for you, Marty McMartyrson, I'M YOUR GRANDMOTHER and I AM YOUR GOD. You know what that makes you?"
"I-"
She grinned, "That makes you NOTHING."
My brows dropped. "Okay, I get fed pretty well on plants, actually. And I don't get those horrible cravings anymore. I'm finally at peace-"
She blabbered, "Honestly! The lies that come out of your filthy little mouth! You want to be a rabbit? Hm? And be eaten by the wolves and dogs and hawks of this world?"
"Better than ending up around your neck."
"Oh, if I could punch your little teeth in without your sister finding out. That brat is in medicine just because she can't find a man... you know my hair turned white when I was only thirty? And hers, god forbid she lose but a single precious strand from that thick, monstrous hairline... hers is still red to this day! At thirty-one, no less! The absolute beastliness of you, and her, and your whole cabal of aspie nerds. Yes, even your jocks are nerds now, you pitiful children of today."
I gritted my teeth. "This is... what the fuck are you talking about?"
She started walking, furiously, yanking me by the back-strap again.
"Just get in the car, DRY-ICE. Don't you hit your precious little red head now, lest you lose a single lock."
"My hair is tan-"
She opened the door. "Get in."
I looked at her, begging with my expression not to be made to get in that car. It smelled worse than she did, and it looked like an ash tray on wheels. I offered, "I mean, your dye job looks good, I don't know what you're so mad about."
"BECAUSE, Dryce," She mocked me in a nasally tone. "YOU NEVER HAD TO WORK FOR IT, DID YOU?!"
She slammed the door and threw her bony ass into the driver's seat a moment later. It started after a couple of tries. Suddenly I considered calling the police, but my GamePal didn't get cell service. Or any kind of service. I guess the future had a while before it got to me, after all.