Spiders

                                    Spiders

"This is all your fault," I glare accusingly at my older sister. "I just wanted you to know that."
We're sitting outside the school counselor's office. It's five O'clock in the evening and all the other students have left the building. Up until this point I've been staring at the wall across from me, ignoring my trouble-making sister for what has felt like hours. Behind the counselor's door I can hear the muffled voices of Dr. Scott, the school shrink, as well as my parents. I can't quite make out what they're saying, but I can tell It's not good.
Mary looks at me reproachfully, hazel eyes magnified by her huge bottle-cap glasses.
My fault?" she spits at me. "I'm not the one who freaked out in front of the entire school!" her gaze is burning a hole in my face, "Now you've gotten Mom and Dad involved, and for what reason, to make them even more afraid of you?"
"Shut-up," I growled, face growing hot with rage, "They're not afraid of me. They're just concerned."
"Because the shrink thinks you're off your rocker," she smiles. It's not a very pleasant smile. I could imagine a lion smiling like that as it ate its young.
I'm just about to turn around and sock her in the arm when the door opens. Mr. Scott stands in the doorway. Judging from his thinning grey hair and brown spots decorating his hands, I'd say he's in his mid-fifties. He's wearing a black suit. Well, it could be blue; It's kind of hard to tell in the dim light of the room.
"Emmet," he calls me, "would you join us for a moment?"
I rise out of my seat and walk to the door. Right before I enter, I look back at Mary. She flashes me that unnerving smile once more.
"It's the end of your world, Emmet," she says.
I tear my gaze away from her and trudge into the counselor's office. Yeah, I thought. You're probably right.
The first thing I notice when i walk in is that my Mom's make-up is runny. She'd been crying.
"Emmet," my father addresses me with a stern look on his face, "How do you explain this behavior? It's not like you! It's...It's..."
They're all looking at me strangely, with a mixture of worry and fear and disgust; kind of similar to how someone would look at you if you suddenly grew a second mouth on your forehead. Mr. Scott broke the silence by clearing his throat.
"Why don't you take a seat, Emmet?" he suggests, gesturing to a chair.
I shake my head no, "I prefer to stand. Less blood clots that way." I see my father roll his eyes at me, but I ignore him.
"Um...okay. Then would you please enlighten your parents about today's incident in the cafeteria?" he asks.
I feel my heart sink in my chest. So this is about the incident in the cafeteria after all.
Seeing the look on my face, my mother speaks up for the first time. "We only ask because we love you," she says in what she must have thought was a reassuring tone.
"Am I in trouble?"
"No, you're not in trouble. We're just...a little concerned, that's all," She flashes a quick smile, false and wavering.
I think about this for a moment, and frown. Why were they trying to make me cough-up the story, when they've obviously been informed on the situation by Mr. Scott (and the principal, no doubt). Then it dawns on me. They don't believe me. They want to know for sure if my freak-out (as Mary would've called it) was a sham, a lie. I decide to clear the air.
"Alright," I agree reluctantly. Here goes nothing.

                                      *

There are spiders in my brain. I can feel them crawling around in there, spinning webs and laying eggs. They're always there, no matter what I do or where I go. They've been with me for as long as I can remember. Sometimes they're more noticeable than usual, other times I can hardly feel them at all. Mary said that they're not real, but they're there alright. Some times they whisper to me, I know that sounds crazy, but It's true.
At lunchtime that day I was standing in line to fill up my tray at the cafeteria, when I heard someone call my name. I looked around, wondering who in this school would actually acknowledge my existence. I get picked on a lot, so kids avoid me so that the school bullies won't notice them.
Well, it didn't look like anyone had called me, so I relaxed and searched the room for a table. I noticed a group of kids sitting together, laughing at some private joke. They didn't seem to belong to some stupid clique like the jocks or the cheerleaders. They seemed...normal, if there was such a thing. I walked up to their table, and all conversation instantly ceased.
"I-I was wondering if I could sit here," I said, glancing at the single empty chair.
"No way in hell," I heard one of them growl, but I didn't see which one.
I quickly averted my gaze and turned to leave, face growing red with embarrassment. I should've  known better than to ask. I started to walk away, when one of the girls stopped me.
"Hey," she said, "come back. Of course you can sit here."
I looked back at her, confused. "I thought you said there's no way I could sit here," I reminded her.
  She looked at me funny, and then told me that I was wrong, that she and her friends had all nodded yes. I considered insisting that one of them had said no, but brushed the thought aside. They had accepted me into their lunch group; there wasn't any need to push it. So I took a seat and introduced myself to everyone. There were three girls and four guys, seven teenagers in all. The girl who had prevented me from leaving said her name was Sarah Grossman, but everyone at the table seemed to call her Gross. She had long dirty blonde hair and had a slight overbite, and I thought she was one of the prettiest girls I had ever seen at school.
We started talking (actually, they did most of the talking, I just hung back and listened), and it turned out that they were pretty cool. It was great to be a part of the group for once, and I had hoped that they would let me sit with them tomorrow,too.
"They don't really want you here," someone said, "They just don't want to tell you how much you repulse them." I recognized the speaker at once. It was the same person who had called my name while I was in line, as well as the same person who had banned me from sitting at the lunch table.
I felt the skittering of many tiny legs in my skull, and I let out a little moan of despair. It had been the spiders all along, and now they were back to cause even more trouble. I'd always known that no one but me could hear them, but the other students look at me funny and whisper among themselves whenever they see me talk to them.
Gross must've noticed something was wrong, because she leaned towards me and asked if I was okay. I nodded yes, praying that the spiders would keep their mouths shut.
"She's way out of your league," a spider said, "and she's only pretending to care! She may look nice on the outside, but on the inside she's probably plotting some nasty scheme to humiliate and demean you. She'll probably-"
"Shut-up," I bark, and Gross's smile instantly vanishes, leaving her looking hurt and confused. I kick myself inwardly; of course she would think I was talking to her!
"Wait," I blurt out, "I'm sorry, i wasn't talking to you. It's just these spiders..."
"What? Spiders?" a boy names Evol (Love spelled backwards) interrupted. "What are you talking about, Emmet? You mean you got crabs or something?"
This comment caused an eruption of laughter around the table, as well as a few surrounding tables around us. I felt my face go hot and my vision faded to a deep red colour. I clenched my hands into fists.
Stop, I said to myself, control yourself before you do something stupid...
"Make him pay," all of the spiders said in unison, the noise nearly deafening. God, there must be hundreds infesting my skull! "He embarrassed you for no reason, lashed out at you! You can't just stand there and take it so KILL HIM NOW!!"
I don't remember what happened in the next two or three minutes. All I know is that when I regained control of my senses, Evol was lying on the ground, nose broken and gushing blood, tears of pain and shock streaming down his bruised, swollen face. I felt immediate guilt start to tear at my innards like an angry dog.
"I hope you're happy," I snarled at the spiders, which had all gone silent.
They didn't answer me.

                                       *

"So that's what happened." I conclude, looking at them expectantly. It had gotten quiet in the dimly lit room as I was talking, my parents exchanging nervous glances here and there. I begin to grow uneasy in their silence.
"You think I'm crazy," I say, voice sharper than I had intended. Before any of them can answer, I give the chair beside me a nasty kick, sending it flying across the room. "For Christ's sake!" I yell, "That's what happened! Really! Why don't you believe me?"
Mr. Scott starts to say something to calm me, but my rage is far beyond control. "NO!" I interrupt him, "This is exactly what Mary said would happen!"
"Mary?" Mr. Scott echoes, and mother begins to cry. Father puts a protective arm around her, staring at me with a mixture of sadness...and hate.
"You mean, your daughter, Mary?" Mr. Scott continues, looking at my father, "The one who didn't make it in the accident five years ago?"
My father nods solemnly, and my mother chokes out another sob.
"Oh, my," Mr. Scott murmurs, "I'm afraid there's more to the illness than we thought."
"For the last time," I holler at the top of my voice, "I'M NOT CRAZY!"
As if he hadn't heard me, Mr. Scott turns to my father. "I know this is hard for you, but I suggest that you seriously consider that address I gave you."
What? They're sending me away? No! They can't! They wouldn't!
"They would," a spider chimes in, "and they will.
"Shut-up!" I scream at it, "Just shut up! You're the reason my world is falling apart! If it weren't for you, everything would be just fine!" I turn and face my parents, pleading them with my eyes.
"It's not my fault! We just have to take the spiders out of my head, and everything will go back to the way it was. See? See?"
They don't see.  

                                        *

I run into my room, slamming the door behind me. With a cry of pure misery I collapse onto my bed, burying my face in my pillow. It's over. Everyone thinks I'm mental, and I'm being sent far away from here. The end.
What's with this life? I wonder. What was the point of living if no one, not even your own parents, wanted you around? What is life? A sudden thought strikes me: Was this life even real? Then what would that make death? Would dying lead to waking up to something...better?
I jump as I hear someone call my name. It sounds like someone whispering in my ear. I look around the room, but no one's there.
"It's time to wake up," the voice said. It's not like the high, whiny voices of the spiders, it's softer, gentler, almost pleasant.
"I don't want to wake up alone." I whimper.
"Then don't."
Suddenly, as if on cue, I hear my brother, Eric, come in the front door downstairs. I can just make out his muffled footsteps leading to the kitchen.
Right at that moment everything seems to click into place. Slowly, I rise from the bed. Without really thinking, I open the the door and walk down the hall. I'm not sure where I'm going. I find myself in my father's study. I don't seem to have any control of my actions, like walking in a dream.
I crawl under his desk and retrieve the key he keeps there. He never made a real fuss about hiding it. I use the key to open the very bottom drawer of the same desk. Inside, gleaming in the yellow glow of the lamp lies his hand gun ("for protective purposes," father had said). It's loaded, I can tell by the weight of it.
Downstairs, I can hear one of Eric's cassettes playing, some song by T-Rex. I smile to myself, and walk out into the hallway, towards the sound. I softly creep down the stairs; I don't want to alarm him, after all.
Everything's going to be alright. We just have to wake up.

Bang.



Bang.