The Truth Board

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The Truth About the Fact: An International Journal of Literary Nonfiction

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Location: Los Angeles, California, United States

The Truth About the Fact: A Journal of Literary Nonfiction is an international journal committed to the idea that excellence in the art of letters can play a vital role in transforming the planet we share.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

In Sleep

“Please don’t do this. I promise you, it’s a bad idea.” I’m wringing my hands, hoping she’ll listen, knowing she won’t. She looks over her shoulder at me and laughs maniacally.

“Alisa, you worry too much.” I begin to ponder the validity of this statement while she scales the wall in front of us. Why this girl loves thrusting herself into peril and why I feel a need to keep her safe are two mysteries to me. Out of the corner of my eye I watch a white Ked slip, followed by a small body and mess of short blonde hair.

“Hey, asshole, you done yet?” Lauren’s long blond hair falls over her face as she reaches down to snatch the papers that are sitting idly in my lap. “I swear to God you are the slowest reader alive.” She rolls her eyes and retreats to the couch on the opposite side of the room.

I grab a new stack of applications and again begin to read. “Don’t get too attached, you almost never get who you want.” I look up at Jorge who is sitting cross-legged just a few feet away, munching on a bag of walnuts.

“But I want her so bad,” I plead, my eyes brimming with tears. “She’s…perfect.” He looks sorry for a few brief moments and then his face hardens. “Don’t do it, Alisa. You’re just setting yourself up.”

“Alisa, what are you doing? This is called harmonizing. Do you know what pitch you’re starting on?” I shake my head, suddenly realizing I am entirely off-key.

“Yeah, sorry, I…I got distracted.”

She looks disappointingly at me and shakes her head, turning back to the rest of the group.

“Let’s start again.”

This is it. Feeling the hands around my neck, my only regret is that I never took karate. “It’s embarrassing to die this way, Alisa,” I chastise myself. I grab his wrists, using all my strength to pry them away from my almost lifeless body. I fought so much just to be surprise attacked with a physical act. Looking into onyx eyes, I feel sick again.

I snake my arms around her waist, kissing the nape of her neck. A hateful gaze deters me as she intertwines her fingers with mine, asking if I like her dress. I nod into her neck, smiling against her smooth skin. “It won’t be long now, Alisa,” she sings.



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