You're Not Here

Epilogue

For disclaimer see previous chapters

xXx

There was a moment between my death and making it to that "paradise" in the sky that I saw everything. I suppose you could call it compensation for the trouble they caused me. I didn't actually get to meet the things that basically govern the lives of waste locks all over the world but I did hear their voices.

Most of everything had been planned from the beginning; his parent's murder, his foster care, schooling, our meeting. They needed him specifically, he was special.

He sees things Edgar, he understands people on such an intimate level that it drove him to brilliance.

In the early stages of their plan he'd been unknowingly defiant. Ignoring the voices to the point that they believed there was something wrong with their system; could he hear them at all?

They eventually realized he was just ignoring them. Infuriated, one of the malicious dictators initiated the next faze of the plan in the worst possible way. He had Johnny's parents murdered. It was a simple thing to manipulate the physical world just enough to break a window lock, to have someone bear witness to a thief's botched attempt at burglary. That person called the police and the thief panicked.

Through the fog of that dark and dismal night, the thief lurked, to start a chain of events that would lead to the destruction of a brilliant child's psyche. Domino after domino the pieces would fall into place, lining up to eventually knock down a teenager's attempt at retaining his sanity. Imprinted on his mind like a finger print on the pad of a thumb was the blood splattered on the walls of his cozy suburban home.

His past will forever haunt him, Edgar. You can understand that, can't you?

I didn't reply and they didn't expect me to. Before allowing me to continue my journey to the gates of my bliss they asked me if I wanted to know about what happened the night after the final incident with Mr. Dunworth. I couldn't fight my curiosity. I had to know.

Johnny used to play a game when he wanted to ignore us. He'd play 'Find the white dots'.

Being good at reading people made it easy know what a good person acted like. The hard part was finding them.

He'd sit at park benches and on random sidewalks after school and just wait for the good people to pass by. He waited because he had to be sure there were decent human beings in the world. It made life surrounded by assholes just a little more bearable.

He was quick to notice the good students at our school. What fascinated him about us was the anomaly that we were all but invisible.

They'd made him the same way early on. However, their plan to break him down through isolation proved to be ineffective. He ended up accepting his seclusion.

We were growing alarmed at how slow the progress of our little "experiment" was. So brilliance over there decided to do something immoral.

They made Johnny's "White dots" visible to the wrong people, people like Mr. Dunworth. I mean after all, if they couldn't break him down internally, externally was just fine.

This seriously pissed me off.

"What gives you the right to . . ." but I was interrupted.

Have patience Edgar, all will be clear. Our story is far from finished.

They said it wasn't all my doing but that in the end it was just what pushed him over the edge.

They made him dream about that night I was alone in my house with Mr. Dunworth. They played it over and over until it started poking holes at his sanity. They played it until he refused to sleep for fear of his nightmares.

Loving his reaction they opened a link between us making my misery his, making my fear his. That's why he went back to Mr. Dunworth's classroom, he was afraid and didn't know why.

After that night he hated touch, he hated it because of my inability to face my attacker. Because I wasn't strong enough to get the help I needed.

'. . . because you're too weak to do it yourself.'

His mind just snapped, you could almost feel it. It was like glass shattering.

To me if felt more like the breaking of a twig.

Nny mutilated him. Jerry Dunworth was victim number one. It's ironic, Johnny's words were what saved my sorry ass but in the end it was his hand that ended me.

At first I thought that telling him my name would spark some remembrance of me but instead all I received was same strange reply he gave me behind the school.

'Hello Edgar my name is Johnny . . .'

It was then I realized that there had been a major difference in the greetings. The second time around Johnny had addressed himself as Johnny C. not Johnny Carson.

When I questioned this they both laughed softly.

Think Edgar, why would it be bad for him to remember his last name.

"When it's bad for you." Because if Johnny knew his last name he could look himself up and find his own past. He could relive the pain of murder and forced insanity.

I knew this boy was smart.

"What does Johnny get for all this, for all of the shit you've been oh-so willing to put not just him but I'm sure countless others through?"

We must all in the end pay a price much too high for us to comprehend. It is the greatest flaw in any one being's system.

'A heaven for me and a hell for you . . .'

I only had one last question to ask them.

"How long will you make him and others like him suffer?"

That's why I like you Edgar, you care.

Pansy.

Shut up you sick bastard.

He's right though Vargas, even you will one day be forced to pay a price far too large for you to know.

I couldn't help but feel relieved when the voices went away.

xXx

This is the real end. I might write another JTHM story if this one does okay but if not I'll just finish the ones I've got.

Everyone should read "HARD CANDY" by me. It's a squee story.