July 7

In ten days Becky is coming to town to give a concert.  I cut her picture from a magazine and made a shrine for it from a cardboard box, aluminum foil, and a dinner plate.  Mom bought me some new underpants yesterday, and I poured lighter fluid on them and burned them on the plate. Through the flames, I looked at myself in the aluminum foil by Becky’s picture. We would look good together in a fire.

Mom is worried.  She won’t buy me tickets to the concert.

July 8

Last night I dreamed I watched myself dance with Becky.  We were on stage.  She wore a torn silver bikini, just like in her video.  I wore a black suit.  We danced to “Reversal” from her Boogie Imaginings CD.  It’s not my favorite song.  At the end of the song, Becky kissed the me on stage.  I saw myself wave at the audience and shout something I couldn’t make out.  I wish I was me.

This morning I put on my black suit and practiced dancing in front of the mirror in the dining room.  Mom asked me what I was doing.  I said, “When Becky sees me dancing on the street outside her hotel, she’ll invite me to dance with her in the show.  I won’t need a ticket.”

July 9

Mom and I went to see the doctor today.  The doctor has a new picture of a man with a beard on his wall.  The man is not Lincoln.  I stared at the picture, trying to think who it was.

Mom told the doctor I was going downhill fast.  She showed him this notebook.  He leafed through it and read the last few pages.

“Why do you keep a journal?” he asked.

“There’s nothing else to do.  They won’t let me go to school anymore.”

“Do you always write down your dreams?”

“I try.  I can’t always remember them.”

“Keep trying.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have any questions?”

I pointed to the picture on the wall.  “Is that man Santa Claus?”

I have a lot of pills to take now.

July 10

I took my pills at bedtime.  No dreams.

July 11

I took my pills at bedtime.  Again, no dreams.  I woke up with a headache.

July 12 

Becky is giving a concert a couple hundred miles away.  That’s as close as she’s ever been to my house.

I stuffed my pills in my mouth and fell asleep right away.

I had a hot dream.  Becky and I were together in bed.  The self who was in bed wore my black suit.  Becky had a sheet wrapped around her.  Her hair was tousled.  I watched beside the bed, and the me in the suit held her tight and gave her a long, passionate kiss.  I put my hand in the pocket of my jacket and asked her if there was anything she’d like me to pass to her in a kiss.

I expected her to say a chocolate.

She said, “A frozen french fry.”

I took a frozen french fry from my jacket pocket and put it in my mouth.  My tongue felt the cold ridges on the starchy lump.  I put my lips to Becky’s and spat the french fry into her mouth.

The me on the bed shouted, “Fetch!”

A policeman woke me at the bus station.  I was in my underwear.  He asked me what I had in my hand.  I opened it and showed him a wad of pills soaked in spit.  Mom came to get me and promised the policeman she would take me back to the doctor.

Now I have different pills to take.

July 13

No dreams.  I heard someone shout “fetch,” and I woke up with a headache.

July 14

Last night I saw a bell and heard it ring louder and louder.  Someone shouted “fetch” and the bell broke.  I saw flames and felt pain.  I felt my head explode.

I screamed and cried in my room.  It took Mom a long time to get me to stop screaming.

July 15

I heard the bell and felt my head explode again.  I hate this new medicine.

July 16

The concert is tomorrow night.

I took my medicine, but I dreamed about Becky anyway.

She wore her torn silver bikini and danced to “Reversal” with the black-suited me again, this time in my bedroom.  I lay in bed watching them.  Her body shook.  I’d never noticed how sexy that song was before.

At the end of the song the black-suited me grabbed Becky by the hair and slapped her.  He pointed his finger at me and shouted, “Fetch!”

For the first time, I understood.  I could talk to myself in the dream.  I said, “No.”

My black-suited self began to beat Becky with his fist.  Her face was bloody.  She struggled and screamed.  He pointed to me again and shouted the hateful word.

I heard a bell.  My head exploded again, but I didn’t cry.  I woke and dressed in my black suit.  I took a knife from the kitchen and hid it in my sleeve.

Leaving by the back door, I crept through back yards and ran down side streets until I came to the hotel where Becky was staying.

I rang the bell and beat on the front door, but the desk clerk wouldn’t let me in.  I shouted, “Fetch,” and the security guard came to the door.  He yelled through the glass that he had already called the police.  I ran home.  I never got back to sleep.

July 17

The concert is tonight.

This morning I knew I wouldn’t be able to take my medicine tonight.  For Becky’s sake I couldn’t take it.  It’s her or me.

I dressed in my black suit instead of my pajamas tonight.  I didn’t get in bed.  I sat in the chair by my bed and held the knife in my hand.  When I felt sleepy I poked my arm with the knife.

Still, I was very sleepy.  I started nodding off.  I stabbed my arm, my calf, and my thigh.  My blood dripped from the chair to the floor.  I rose and walked toward the door of the room with my eyes closing.  I stabbed my side and slumped to the floor, but somehow I got up and walked out the door.  I fell asleep going down the stairs.

In my dream I saw myself walking down the stairs.  I dragged Becky by her hair.  She was bleeding from a dozen wounds, and she writhed when her shoulders, torso, or head hit a step.

I stood at the bottom of the stairs and watched black-suited me drag Becky down another step, kick her, and cut Becky’s face with the knife.

I walked backward to the front door, opened it, put my finger on the doorbell.