Alissa Bennett

Excerpt:

"And then it's quiet, and I listen to the wheels until they're playing 99 Red Balloons, I mean the 7 Seconds version, and everything's the same as always, like time isn't progressing in my life at all cause I'm still finding the same song I found last week, and I'm wondering who's gonna take my place in the passenger seat when I'm gone, and by then I bet the radio will be fixed, and it will be warm enough to go outside without a coat. It sounds perfect, like the first day of summer vacation, but I know it will only happen if I'm not here.

I've really thought about that, like how every single person who was ever in my life is gonna think that if they'd just found the right word, or if they'd payed more attention during ninth grade suicide prevention class that they could've stopped it, but it's not like that.

I have to talk to the school psychologist twice a week now, but I never really listen to what she's saying, I mean, I listen, but her advice only makes sense for a second, like when I'm in that office it's a different universe where I could salvage my life and my academic career, and there's a chance that I will have some control over what happens in my life, but as soon as I leave, all I can think about is that the prospect of having to brush my teeth for the next sixty years is just too disgusting and awful for me to deal with.

Everybody wants to think that suicide is this dramatic event, and it's not. It's like you're walking on top of a roof, and you have about ten seconds to decide if you want to stop, or you want to keep going, and you decide to keep going. Sorry I'm always talking about this shit- it's boring, but it's not like, a cry for help of anything. It's just the truth, and the day I die, the sun will come out, whole world's gonna smell like green. There's a bee in the classroom, so I'll turn out the light, shut my History book, and start summer vacation that lasts for ever.

Sitting in the car with Jim, the windows are all rolled up cause it's still a little cold, and he always smells like soap and cigarettes. There's a cup of soda from McDonald's on the dash board, and he's kind of my boyfriend, so I know I can have as much of it as I want. I don't want any, but I'll drink some to show him that I didn't forget, and we're still together. His hand's on the stick shift, and I'll cover it with my own while I stare out the window, and there's no way he could ever imagine that all I'm thinking about is how I could never do this for the rest of my life. He kind of looks at me for a second, and he's so nice to me and he'd never ask me for gas money and for now I'm really happy just to sit in the car and watch the trees.

Hand clapping starts, 99 red balloons go by."


For full writing by Alissa Bennett in the Superficial Dragon