Page Six: Deity 

          The character Rex Kingrey had come to Gon about a month after his best friend Nate’s death, when Danny’s publishing company had started reprinting Nate’s work. The public seemed to like an author’s books better after he was dead.

            Gon had always thought that the novel Under the Skies was probably famous mainly because of this ruthless character, who killed people in the belief that he was giving them a better life. “Earth is nothing more but a hell for those who sinned in the past life,” was what Rex said to explain his crimes. “And the only easy way out of all the tortures that this life gives you, is to be killed by a messenger of God, for even God himself won’t forgive the ones who commit suicide in order escape from this hell.” Rex believed that God was the one who told him to kill, “a gift that God was giving to them”.

            A lot of readers wanted Gon to break his ‘one novel per year’ tradition, and give them more of this bizarre character. Gon never gave in. He wrote not for his audience or money. He wrote for himself.

            Gon thought about all these things as he walked back home, yet all thoughts were now disappearing, as he stood once again in front of his house, the dark-green door greeting him. The door was unlocked. Lynn never locked doors once she was inside. She was too trusting of the human race. A few weeks before, she had moved in with Gon, after his breakdown on the rooftop of the Empire Hotel. She was worried about him.

            “I don’t really know why I’m here to teach you how to write stories,” he heard his own voice say, resonating around the hallways as he stepped into the house. The voice sounded as if it was coming out of the television speakers. “Considering that nobody can really teach anybody to be a writer. This isn’t like football, where you can teach a kid how to catch or throw. Writing comes from the inside of your soul, an instinct that was born with you when you first saw the lights of this world, something that can never go away…”

            Gon said nothing as he leaned on the doorway of the living room, watching Lynn with undisturbed eyes. “The first step of writing a story is really simple.” Lynn was sitting with her legs crossed, as the Gon in the TV continued to give his speech. “Take a happy and/or normal person, and change his life into the most miserable one you can think of.” She was wearing nothing but her pink underwear. She never wore anything when she was at home. She wasn’t ashamed of the body God had given her.

            She seemed to have sensed his presence, for she turned around and looked at him.

“Hi.” He smiled as he said this, her perfume scenting the room.

            “Welcome back.” She pointed at the TV. “I didn’t know you did speeches.”

            “It was a promotional thing,” Gon replied as he let his book bag drop down onto the floor. “I only did it once.” He paused, as he stood there, looking at the TV screen.

            “Why didn’t you tell me you kept videos of it?”

            “I didn’t. The video is Kara’s.”

            “Really? I didn’t know that.”
            Gon just nodded as he picked up the plastic video case, showing Lynn the inside of it. There was an inscription there, written on the dried lines of white-out: “Kara Mesiroiben’s property: Gon, you better not throw this away, or you’ll regret it for the rest of your loser life!!!” It was a beautiful handwriting, firm and clean.

            “…Treat your characters as real human beings,” the TV went on, as Gon sat by his desk, getting ready to write again. “For they may be fictional in our world, but they are as real as ourselves in their own worlds.” The untitled had now grown to three hundred and some pages, the ending of it slowly nearing.

            Lynn looked out the glass windows, the sun golden once again as it got ready to go to sleep. “It’s such a nice day out,” she mumbled, her eyes staring aimlessly at the skies. “Let’s go outside.”

            “But I thought you wanted me to finish the novel.”

            “Not anymore.” Lynn turned to look at him, her eyes watching at him. “Let’s go out, please?”

            Gon just nodded, as his television self raised his microphone, and spoke for the final time before they closed the TV: “The last rule for writing a story is: Learn all the rules, and then break them all…” 

*   *   *   *   *   * 

            Lynn drove him to a club named ‘Shooting Stars’, on some far off location that he knew nothing about. He was thinking about the first time he dated Kara, as Lynn drove on some weird road that he didn’t know at all. He was fifteen then, when he was just drafting his first novel. His parents had always called him a ‘genius’ and repeated that word even more after he had received university scholarships from every corner of the nation, after he had graduated from High School at the age of sixteen. They were against him though, when he announced that he wanted to write. They yelled at him for not thinking about his future straight.

            “What if you don’t succeed at writing?” his father had always said. “What if your books don’t sell?”

            He would have been lost, if it wasn’t for Kara, if it wasn’t for her…

            Gon smiled when he saw the name of the club, and wondered how more coincidences could come later in his life. Maybe that’s why movies always have those “The events and characters of this movie are purely fictional” comments at the end, for the world was just too wide for no coincidences to occur. Gon didn’t recognize a thing about this place, or the area the club was in. Lynn must have gone to a lot of places to find this far-off place. Gon was glad, for the change of scenery was definitely good. Besides, he was with Lynn, and that’s pretty much all that mattered to him then. He didn’t care about anything else. Life will just go on.

“So, why did you choose pre-med. as your major?” Lynn asked now, as they sat at a small square glass table, glasses of various alcoholic mixes stood before them.

            “It was my parents’ decision,” Gon said. He was drinking something that tasted like lemon-flavored vodka. “They always wanted me to get a ‘real job’. It was the only logical thing for me to do anyway. I had to put my life together somehow. I kind of just drifted around for a year after Kara died…”

            “She must have meant a lot to you…” Lynn paused, as if she were sad. Gon couldn’t tell what she was really feeling with the club’s dancing rainbow lights. “How did you guys meet?”

            “She had track practice, and I was just passing by on my way home. She bet me to take her out, if she could jump above my height.”

            “Did she do it?”

            Gon shook his head, a smile stealing onto his face. “No, she didn’t. But we still went out on a date anyway, because I wanted the same thing as she did when I won the bet.”

            Lynn rested her chin on her hands, her long dark hair covering one of her eyes. “Was she like, the girl of your dreams?”

            Gon shook his head again. “No, she was way too different from my dream girl. Yet I loved her still with all of my heart. I didn’t really care if she was my dream girl or not… I just wanted to be with her…”

            They were both silent for a while, as Lynn stared lovingly at him. “Do you think that people can change their own fate?”

            “Well,” Gon paused as he thought about it. “We should be. We’re not characters manipulated by some God, we have our own desires and dreams…”

            “Speaking of God,” Lynn interrupted him. “Would you consider what He did with the Virgin Mary incest?”

            “What?” Gon was so surprised by the question, that he almost spit out what he was drinking. “What did you say?”

            “I mean, God is the one who created this world and its people, right? And he’s the father of us all. So, I was just thinking, wouldn’t it be considered incest, considering that the Virgin Mary conceived a child with her own Father?”

            “Good point,” Gon answered as he drank some more of the mixtures in front of him. “I never thought about it that way.”

            As she slowly got up, Lynn just nodded. “I’ll be back. I’m just going to the restroom.”

            “Okay,” Gon replied as he watched her go. Lynn mixed in with the evening crowd, her figure distinguished no more from the thousands of colors in the crowd. He didn’t notice the man then, he didn’t even bother looking at him, as the man walked slowly, alone, into the middle of the dancing crowd. It wasn’t until the screams resonated in the small club, that Gon got a good look at him.

            “God is dead!” The man screamed as his pistol shot randomly on the dance floor, wounded people falling, nobody caring about them enough to help them. “God is dead!”

            Gon felt cold sweat slide down his cheeks, as he looked around in confusion, the man with the long jacket still shooting around, not caring about the lives that he took, reloading his gun every time it ran out. More then ten bodies now lay on the floor, and the ones who were alive were shocked in panic, stampeding, trying to escape from the bullets that searched for a victim to kill. The exits were now cramped, too many people trying to get out, some failing and falling, stomped to death by the thousands of feet that stepped on them, a death worse than the ones shot by the killer. Mania, fear, no control. The music now replaced by the screamings, the dances turned into runnings for the exit, runnings for escape, to save their petty little lives. The people being stumped to death were no longer people to the panicking crowd, but just plain obstacles for them to go over, just something that stood in their way toward the exit.

This felt too familiar to Gon, as if he had seen this all before somewhere. The club, the shooting, Lynn…

            Before Gon knew it, his body had gotten out of the seat with a mind of its own, walking slowly toward the mad shooter. Gon didn’t know why he was walking suicidally toward the killer, and he didn’t know how to stop himself either. The shooter was pointing frantically in every direction, yet Gon was able to walk unspotted to where the killer was, until he was just a couple of feet away from him.

            “Stop, you mother…” The killer stopped his sentence abruptly, as he saw Gon, his hands now shaking uncontrollably, as he let out a breathless moan of fear. “Jesus… There really is a God…”

            Gon felt scared, yet he did not shiver. He couldn’t even move. “You didn’t even give me a fucking name!” The killer now screamed angrily, as he pointed the gun muzzle at Gon, tears running out of his eyes. “You didn’t even care enough to give me a name!”

            As the gun was pointed at him, Gon didn’t even budge a nanometer. He was standing still in his place, in either shock or extreme fear. Gon could only stare blankly at the killer, his vocal cords not even responding to his commands. When he saw Gon’s response, the killer cried loudly, the gun now shaking along with his body. Gon saw the tears dripping down onto the floor, the many tears that rolled off the man’s eyes. The gun now moved toward the killer’s head, the muzzle digging itself into his dirty red hair. He smiled as he did this, his eyes no longer alive. “How do we pray, in order to feel alive?”

            The gun went off as soon as the killer finished saying those words. Gon felt the warm blood splatter onto his face, yet he did not move. He didn’t even blink, as he blankly watched the cadaver fall down onto the floor, the loud thud as the skull cracked under the rainbow lights.


Page 6


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