"What Is and What Should Never Be" by JD J

 

Beyond the shadow of a doubt, I'm dead. I bet you had to re-read that. But just hours ago, I was visiting a friend I hadn't seen in years in Chicago. Now, I'm dead in the street. Weird. How did this happen? Why should I care? You're probably asking these questions, so stick around. If not, I suggest keeping an open mind, you'll see why. Now, where was I?

  

Jimmy had been my friend since the fourth grade, where the shared dislike of Ms. Roberts was the defining trait between the both of us. He’d moved to Chicago a year after high school, with his then girlfriend Lisa. She turned out to be a creep, so that relationship went up in smoke, (along with her car). His apartment was on the tenth floor of his building looking north, with Lake Michigan visible off in the distance. His building was nice, and full of nice people. I hate it there. Despite the long trip (by bus mind you), I was excited to see Jimmy. We’d been separated for nearly five years now, high school being a long way behind us both it felt like. His career as a videographer took him all over the place, so he could hardly stand still. That was why this meet was so special. Arriving at his building just after two in the afternoon, I climbed the stairs to the tenth floor. I knocked on his door. It opened by itself. And Jimmy wasn’t there. In fact, no one was there. Huh. His place was almost empty, no note, no voicemail, no nothing. I sat on Jimmy’s small couch and looked out the window. I told him I would be at his place just after two. Where else would he be? Not his style to be late expecting a guest. Maybe he’s just hung up at work. Maybe he’s holding the door for someone. Maybe he jumped out a window. Brrrrrr. Brrrrr. The dial tone buzzed in my ear. “Hey, it’s Jimmy. You know the drill.” Beeeep. So Jimmy’s phone was still on. But he’s not answering. Ever stranger. I put the phone down, and looked out the window again.

Crash. The window broke. I dropped to the floor, and scrambled over to cover, putting my back against the wall under the window. Broken glass scraped my palms and knees. I looked up. Jimmy. He was sickly pale. A crazed look filled his brown eyes, his black hair was contorted and frayed in all directions. His blue button down shirt and jeans were stained and discolored, (not sure with what), and he held a crowbar over his head. “H - How did you get in?” he asked, breathlessly. I told him the door was open, so I let myself in. He dropped the crowbar, it hit the floor with a loud thump. “S-Say,” he began to speak, shakily. “...you wouldn’t happen to have some cash on hand, w-would you?” Jimmy never spoke with a stutter. I told him I had about fifty bucks for food. “I, uh, need it pretty b-bad.” What’s going on with you? Jimmy kept the crazed look in his eyes, but his mouth turned downward into a sad frown. “I just need the m-money” he stammered, desperately. I pulled out my wallet. Jimmy, I started, What is going on? He came close to me, his shaking hands outstretched. “Give it to me, n-now.” His tone had become angered, and I became reluctant. I put my wallet back in my pocket, determined to get an answer out of him. Jimmy’s breathing quickened again, I could almost feel his heart racing through the floor. I said no. “W-What?” Jimmy looked as though he didn’t believe me. I repeated. No. I wason the floor clutching my bleeding nose before I knew what hit me, Jimmy standing over me like a wild animal. He thrust his hands into my pocket and yanked out my wallet, bolting out the door before I could make my eyes stop watering. I lay there for a solid ten minutes before the bleeding could stop, even longer before my courage to stand would return. That wasn’t Jimmy. Not the one I knew. But the question on my mind at that moment wasn’t what had happened to him. How do I find him?

Jimmy had thrown a small glass ornament he pulled off his counter at the window, (well, technically at me), and the projectile shattered it into a million tiny shards. The sun was setting when I woke up. I felt a cool breeze from the hole in the wall where the window had formerly occupied. Apparently I’d passed out after Jimmy hit me (and stole my wallet). The clock hanging over the kitchen sink read 6:02 (pm). My face hurt. My knees hurt. My hands hurt. I went into the bathroom to clean myself up, finding the trauma from Jimmy’s punch splayed across my cheeks and under my eyes. Ow. A fine layer of dust coated the bathroom floor. I thought nothing of it. I cleaned my face delicately, washing my hands to clear away any remaining broken pieces of glass. Stepping out into Jimmy’s bedroom, there was a fine layer of dust coating his bookshelf too. I put two and two together. Despite the normal looking condition of the apartment, based on how Jimmy looked, and the dust all over, he hadn’t been here in a while. Who knows how long he’s been gone, I thought concerningly. Or if he’ll come back. Turning to leave, a piece of paper on Jimmy’s nightstand caught my eye. ‘Max’s Cell - 783-5309’. Max. This guy knows. I called the number, leaving the apartment as I did. “Yeah”, a disinterested voice on the other end said. I reached the stairwell. Have you seen Jimmy lately? “Yeah I seen ‘em”, the voice replied. I wasn’t convinced. Well, Max, if you see him again, tell him -. The line went dead. A few beeps and a lady’s voice said, ‘We’re sorry, the number you’re trying to reach has been disconnected…’. Stepping outside, I put my phone back in my pocket. What have I gotten myself into? Better yet, what's Jimmy gotten into? He’s in trouble. Leaving, I walked over to the street, intent on hailing a cab back to the bus station. I need to go. I need to - a loud crack and a bolt of heat shot through the air, causing me to duck in place. Jimmy’s apartment erupted into flames.

I was in a daze. Cars whizzed by at the edges of my senses, everything a blur in the chaos. Lights flashed from unknown locations, and loud noises were muffled by the sound of my ears ringing. Where - How I started stammering as I regained my senses slowly. I could smell the thick, black smoke in the air. I could taste the burning remnants of what was Jimmy’s apartment smeared on my lips. Finally being able to see, I looked up. A massive hole was all that was left of Jimmy’s side of the building. The explosion had caused a chain reaction of the immediate floors surrounding the blast to cave in. I had never seen anything like it. Panic set in, and I fled, hearing sirens wail as I rounded the corner. Jimmy. Jimmy, if I find you, you’re going to wish you hadn’t invited me to Chicago. Wait. Why did he invite me to Chicago? I circled back to the series of emails we’d sent setting up my trip out to see him. He’d refused to talk on the phone,

which I didn’t think much of at the time, but given the circumstances, should have. People had started to mill about in the streets, trying to make sense of what was going on. Jimmy’s emails had seemed normal, we’d set a date, meeting place, etcetera. So why would Jimmy need to-. It dawned on me. Jimmy needed money for something. The paranoia set in. I looked behind me, where a crowd had formed around the corner near the exploded apartment. I turned back around, to find Jimmy staring at me. I froze. His crazed eyes had returned to normal, the rest of his features, not so much. He had white powder plastered to his hands. Oh. That's what he did with my wallet. Jimmy, I began, I know you're sick, but- bang. A white hot, searing heat slammed into my stomach. He shot me. I collapsed onto the sidewalk. Through blurred vision, I saw Jimmy pocket the revolver he pulled on me, and walk away. Anyone previously on this street was now over by Jimmy’s apartment, so I was alone.. I could feel the warmth leaving my being, as it pooled under me slowly. Jimmy….why? I closed my eyes, drifting.

So. Now you’re up to speed. Am I dead? Or am I just - . A warm hand rested on my shoulder. A small smile creased my lips. There is hope after all...