Link
"This guy looks an awful lot like Michael Jordan. He is actually Michael Jordan. I've had this fever dream for the past fifteen years and I think it's time to take a second and thank you for the last fifteen years."
A walk through the park grass.
"I know you can't control the weather, which is good because you suck at it."
That was all I had done every summer that I can remember. This time I was only ten, meant to be age nine, but I'll be honest, it doesn't really matter.
"I'm... I'm kidding, I'm kidding."
My name is Ty. I was trying to get him to open up, but I was having a hard time. I had been in therapy for over five years. My mother died three years earlier. I had moved around to a few different schools, never making friends. Most of the kids made fun of me for the things I said. Most of the kids were white. Most of the teachers were white. After the heat of summer, I had become losing my mind. My mother died, yet again, and I had been institutionalized. I did not want to be there. I only got to go home for Christmas and Easter. After so many years, those were the big holidays.
My first was this past December. Christmas was never a part of my holiday. I never got a tree, or looked at lights. Instead they wanted me to be a Jew. I didn't exactly understand it, but I kept pretending. It was a one time deal.
"This kid runs into me and I give him a high five."
The grass was old and brown, but there was life it in. There would have been dirt if it were watered regularly. As it was, it had watch as grass died around it. The government used this area for experiments, as well as the rest of the city park. They left the grass where it was, as a testament to their work. In the middle of it all was a slide. There were a few swings, and a pirate ship structure. The children enjoyed these things, as it gave them a chance to get out of the house.
His father, who was a wealthy lawyer, raised me from an early age. Growing up I wasn't allowed to be friends with my neighborhood friends, kids of the same neighborhood or any kids who weren't privileged. Thankfully, my mother hadn't told him my secret. My dad didn't believe in magic, but he did believe in getting a lawyer to sue them.
"It is nothing like when you go to the park. You go to the park to play, but our relationship has nothing to do with play whatsoever. He is at ease around me, but he shouldn't."
Ty was still physically sick for the mental disorder he was living with. I knew the feeling. It was the same feeling I got when you run into the tree that you hit when your bike slips from your grasp. Instead of hitting the tree and crushing your hope of feeling better, or getting hurt, or your ego, or your pride... like most of us, Ty's body hit something when he slipped. Instead of hitting his pride he hit his ribs, causing him to leave the hospital and home. He went to the doctor's office and said he slipped, and fell. He easily could have torched his body and the doctor would have taken out the insurance.
"My mom was a dental hygienist. When I was ten, I asked her to paint my toenails. I asked if they were fine like they are in the picture. She told me that they were too thin. She then asked me if I was still seeing my father and if I thought I had anything in common with him."
"I am glad we were able to meet. I will try not to hurt you. It is much easier than everyone else."
I am not a very brave person. This was no exception. I stood at the entrance to the park, making sure that I didn't get walked in on. I watched him for a few minutes. He was running, and curving about the park. Almost all of the time, he was running at a speed that would mean he would fall. Almost all the time, he would stop and not only breathe, but shake off the sweat from his forehead. I watched him for a few more minutes, making sure that he didn't notice me. I jogged over to him with a smile on my face. We were in sync as to our timing. He had come to a stop, and was sweating. I watched as he bent down and brushed off the grass.
He was smart enough not to fall or give up. He put on his headphones, ran away and disappeared. I walked up to the slide. I sat down and pushed it down with my feet. I had never done this before, and I was having a hard time getting myself on the slide. He was strong, and proud. Of course, he never had the problem of a ten-year-old ten-year-old. His size didn't matter. As I slid down, I found myself drifting away. It was easy, as everything was easy. I listened to a song and thought about the story. I didn't stop thinking about the story until I had been put back in my room. I was put there mentally unstable enough where I had to be chained to my bed.
"I am not making friends. I am making a persona to protect myself from the potential of my privacy being invaded."
The first time a used a computer, I didn't know what I was doing. I was around eight years old, but I remember sitting in a chair for a surprisingly long time. I don't remember if I knew how to read, but I do know that I was smart enough to figure it out.