There Is Something About Christmas That Requires

The Bathroom Door Swings Open. Emma Sees The Blood Painting My Skin And The Red Rivers Carved On My Body. Emma Sees The Wet Knife, Silver And Bone. The Screams Of My Little Sister Shatter Mirrors.

I Sit At A Table Close To His Desk. Ivy Is In This Class. She Sits By The Door. I Keep Staring At Her, Trying To Make Her Look At Me. That Happens In Movies - People Can Feel It When Oother People Stare At Them And They Just Have To Turn Around And Say Something. Either Ivy Has A Great Force Field, Or My Lazer Vision Isn't Very Strong.

I Live In The Borderlands. The Word Ghost Sounds Like Memory. The Word Therapy Means Exorcism. My Visions Echo And Multiplymultiply. I Don't Know How To Figure Out What They Mean. I Can't Tell Where They Start Or If They Will End. But I Know This. If They Shrink My Head Any More, Or Float Me Away On An Ocean Of Pills, I Will Never Return.

She Turns To Us, Acts Surprised To See Us, Then Does The Bit With The Back Of The Hand To The Forehead. "you're Lost!" "you're Angry!" "you're In The Wrong School!" "you're In The Wrong Country!" "you're On The Wrong Planet!

My Face Becomes A Picasso Sketch, My Body Slicing Into Pieces.