Trash Can

You see, everything makes sense if you see it in the right context. Maybe I got a new job working with waste management. Perhaps I'm preparing for a school project. Understand? Good, with that mindset it will be less of a challenge for you to understand this following story.

"It all began" is a great start of a long explanation, but instead I will use a bright and lovely simile.

My friends are like the internet: I spend time with them because I don't have anything better to do. On one of these lazy friend-procrastination Thursdays, we were all sitting in the Whaler. We, meaning me, Edvin, Jones, and Esbjørn. The Whaler, meaning the café with the best freaking fries in town, yo.

    "Totally frizzels," Edvin would comment as he stuffed his face with another handful of fries. I nodded in agreement, though I had no idea what frizzles meant. Edvin Reggie Simonson was the fat one with the zits and the beard stubble and all the joys of puperty. Jones Peterson was that one guy who always tags along with the belief that he then is cool. Esbjørn "Haletudse" Hansen was from Denmark. The nickname? Haletudse means tadpole. That's all I know. And of course me, Jeremy Corey. It is in bold because my name is in particular important in this story. I am the main character after all, aren't I?

    "Totally totally frizzles dude," Jones responded, and they went on to talk about the best Call of Duty games, before Esbjørn would break in and brag about how it was a danish company who invented Hitman, and that would be the conversation topic of that day.

Anyway, I was looking from one disgusting friend to another thinking about all the other constructive things I could have used my time on, when She walked in.

She was beautiful, but not in the "I want to bang you in front of Esbjørn" way, nor the "You are a bunny and I want to hug you" way. No, she was beautiful. Dazzling. Gorgeous. Graceful. Pretty. Stunning. Lovely. Beautiful.

    "Dead Space is totally overrated next to Max and the Magic Marker." They didn't even notice her. They didn't even notice her beauty. Dazzle. Gorgeousness. Grace. Prettiness. Stun. Loveliness.

    "Guys," I said, almost insulting. I gave the company two eyebrow lifts toward Her.

    "She's hot," James blurted.

    "Not that hot," Edvin said, and James quickly corrected himself with a "You're right, she's not that hot."

I grabbed the steak knife laying in front of me, and in two quick motions aimed for Edvin's eyeballs. They felt rubberlike as I impaled them on my knife, and blood flowed from his eyesockets like twin rivers. James screamed, but I silenced him quickly with a well-aimed stab.

    "How do you think she looks, Esbjørn?" I said, turning towards him.

    "I like her," is all I got to. Not an equal effect, but the same overall message. I was well prepared for an "Uuuh, Jeremy has a crush on somebody," or a "HEY GIRL COME OVER HERE OUR FRIEND LIKES YOU," but what I got instead was much worse.

    "Have you all played that Slender game? It's the frizzles." No comment. Not even a little agreeing grunt. How could they be so ignorant?It was true that they had all had girlfriends before. Even Edvin, god knows how. Maybe they were right. Maybe she wasn't that

My heart stopped and time slowed down. There were only her and her grass-green eyes, her curled red hair, and her incredibly red mouth.

        I stayed up late that day. Midnight might not seem late for most people, but for me it was like New Years Eve'. My eyelids were being pulled down by iron bars, but the flickering screen before me kept me awake. I had a mission. Sherlock Holmes was on the case.

Name: Detective Jeremy Corey

Date: 29/08/2013

Location: My room

Case code name: The Big Search

Case information: Find Her name.

Signed: Jeremy Corey

Witnessed: Fido

I scratched the dog right where neck becomes back, and he purred like a cat. Fido is such an uninteresting name, but so is Jeremy. We fit together in that way. 

Lacey: What r u doing

Jeremy: Nm you?

Lacey: Nm lol xD

Jeremy: I need ur help

Lacey: Whats wrong xD

Jeremy: Do you know Anna

Lacey: Anna Weaver?

Jeremy: No Anna Weaver is black

Lacey: Lol u racist xD

Jeremy: How is that racist

Lacey: xD

Jeremy: Its another Anna shes tall with green eyes and red curled hair

Lacey: Hmmmm lol

Lacey: Anna Dexter?

Jeremy: Maybe

Jeremy: Do you know her

Lacey: Yh from FB

Jeremy: Whats she like

Lacey: Lol

Lacey: Idk

Lacey: She plays guitar

Jeremy: Thx

Lacey: xD

I searched her name. Her profile picture was a guitar, one of the sky-blue ones that say "I'm cute, but I'm also a really hardcore rockstar." An instrument that looks good in the corner of your room next to a plant, and one you can bring to school and feel like the most interesting person present. Suffice to say, it was a nice guitar. I wondered how she was like. I had always been the weird guy - though that was nothing bad. The way I see it, weird is good, strange is bad, mental is perfect. Would Anna be boring? There was only one way to find out.

I wrote her a Facebook message, making sure every word was grammatically correct. My forehead got a bit sweaty as I watched the finished message. Should I send it? What if she would reject me? My mind was screaming in protest, but it was powerless against my heart, and I pressed enter.

Jeremy: I think I saw you yesterday. You're cute.

I panicked.

✓ Seen 11:35 PM

I PANICKED.

Anna is typing...

SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT

I slammed the Laptop shut.

* * * 

        It was friday, the final day before salvation from school. I had it all planned out: Pizza and icecream at Edvin's, then gaming all Friday, Saturday and Sunday. The perfect escape from school. But my plans were thwarted by Lacey Foster, when she approached me during lunch. I was eating in the cafeteria, when she sat beside me and slided closer. There was silence for a moment.

    "Guess what." Lacey finally said.

    "Eating."

    "Come on, guess."

    "Eating. Come back later." I took a big bite of my microwaved steak and glared at her. But of course Lacey was too much Lacey to take the hint.

    "Anna Weaver says hi. She wants to meet you." I didn't respond, pretending like I didn't care.

    "She thinks you're cute. She wants to meet you after school by the field." So she goes to this school.

    "Can't. Gaming at Edvin's." Lacey ran off giggling, leaving me with a pounding heart. If it wasn't for the noise in the cafeteria, it would sound like a beating drum. I won't go, I told myself, I promised Edvin to be with him.

        I went anyway. She was right on time. 15:30. There she walked towards the field, long curled red hair blowing in the wind. Grass-green eyes looking at me, incredibly red mouth smiling. But there was something wrong. My heart didn't skip a beat. My stomach was butterfly-free. This wasn't right.

    "You're not the real Anna."

    "What do you mean? Of course I am. We talked yesterday, remember? You logged off suddenly." Fake Anna giggled as if I was just the silliest person in the world.

    "You're not the real Anna."

    "Jeremy, what are you talking about? Can't we just..."

    "YOU'RE NOT THE REAL ANNA!" I ran. Past the school, past my friends walking, past my house, away from everything. My body felt very empty and hollow, as if somone just took a bite of my insides, so I stopped at the Whaler. I ordered a large portion of fries, licked the plate afterwards, and ordered another one. I stayed there all day waiting for the real Anna to come, but she never did.

    "Cheer up, bro. There are plenty of fish in the see."

    "Not in Denmark," Esbjørn commented. "We actually have a pretty small population." Edvin grunted as he shifted the controller, shooting an approaching mustached zombie in the gut.

    "I don't want just anyone. I want Anna. The real Anna."

    "Guys! A little help?" Jones pleaded, letting out a shriek as a band of exploders closed in.

    "On it," I echoed. Pressing L1, I switched to a Tactical Precision Sniper, and shot one of the exploders, who made the next one explode, and soon all fifteen of them were dealt with and only a pool of low-textured blood remained.

    "Yesss," I triumphed.

        And then suddenly that weekend was gone, and it was Monday again. I checked my Facebook from my phone on the way to school. 5 new messages. All from Fake Anna. Lacey confronted me in lunch again. She was the Facebook Messenger that you can't ignore.

    "Bla bla bla, Anna, bla bla bla, unbelievable, bla bla bla, My name is Lacey and I suck."

        And then suddenly that week was gone, and it was Monday again. 5 messages became 10. 10 became 18. At 21 it stopped. Perhaps Fake Anna had finally given up. Perhaps Fake Anna had finally understood. That Monday was like every other Monday except that day Fake Anna hadn't come to school. I didn't think too much about it, only when she didn't come the next day, week, or month, I began to wonder. There are many types of people who would stay away from school. Those who do it for attention. Those who do it because they have the super-mega-flu. And those that are overly depressed.

"She's super depressed, Jeremy. Been that way ever since you rejected her. But honestly, I understand you. I mean, LOL, who stays away from school for a month because of a heartbreak? You should just stay far away from her. She's weird."

I decided to check the 21 messages on my Facebook.

Jeremy: I think I saw you yesterday. You're cute.

Anna: At the Whaler? I remember that

Anna: Your cute too

Anna: I like the hair

Anna: U there?

Anna: Jeremy?

Anna: I'll be at the Whaler today you coming

Anna: R u ignoring me?

Anna: Jeremy dont do this

Anna: Goddamnit

Anna: JEREMY

Anna: JEREM

Anna: REMJRE

Anna: Lol

Anna: Jeremy come on

Anna: Wont you just talk to me

Anna: I know youve talked to Lacey about it

Anna: Jeremy!

Anna: You suck!

Anna: Go die in a fire

Anna: Jeremy?

Anna: Please?

        Now don't feel cheated. I know I've forgotten something. You've read of all my experiences, followed me on my journey and you shall get your reward. Why is Jeremy carrying a filled trash can with a red ribbon through town? I'll tell you. It's for Anna. The Real Anna. It's to say: You're weird, I'm weird, here's a trash can, lets be weird together.