He grins shyly. “I like how I don’t feel stupid telling you things like this. If I told anyone else how much I liked poetry they’d think I was a total wuss.”
I smile. “I don’t think you’re a wuss at all. I love poetry. It’s powerful and deep. Most people just don’t get it.”
“But you do.”
“Yeah…I get it…” My words fade away.
“Can I read you one more?” he asks. But this time he doesn’t look shy or embarrassed. He looks almost afraid. “This one…well, it’s more about me. How I feel.”
“Please do,” I urge.
I sense his hesitation, and he looks away, unable to meet my gaze. He’s quiet for so long, I begin to fear he’s changed his mind.
“I’ve never told this to anyone before…read the poem, I mean.”
“I’d really like to hear it,” I say softly.
He takes another deep breath and fixes his gaze on a headstone. “Okay…here it goes, it’s called We Wear the Mask. Do you know it?”
I shake my head.
He pauses briefly, and then begins to speak…slowly, quietly. There is a marked change in his tone. When he recited the first poem he sounded confident, strong, and lyrical. Now he sounds sad and remorseful, almost haunted.
We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,--
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.
Why should the world be overwise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!
My breath is short as he finishes. “It’s about hiding your pain and unhappiness and pretending everything is good and normal and wonderful when it’s really not. Pretending to be one way, when you’re really another way.”
“Yeah, I got that,” I whisper. Why did he say this poem was about him?
What is he hiding?
What mask is he wearing?
Chapter 14. Liora
“What do you wanna see?” Corinne asks, scanning the marquee. Her round eyes are wide with excitement, and I’m happy to see she’s back to her normal self. It’s only been four days since the gruesome discovery at school, and I’d been concerned about her, especially since we hadn’t seen each other since then.
She was so thrilled when I called her last night and reminded her about our plans. I tried to match her excitement, but the truth was, I was sad. Sad because even though it had only been a few days, I hadn’t seen Kieron since that afternoon in the cemetery.
Being with Corrine helps to take my mind off him, if only for a few hours. It felt a little strange at first, coming here with her. Although we’ve spent time at school together for the past few years and talked on the phone occasionally, this is the first time we’ve actually hung out away from school.
“It’s your birthday…you decide,” I say as I lick my chocolate ice cream cone. We’d just walked to the theater on Main Street after eating lunch at the diner down the block.
“Well, I don’t want to choose something you won’t like…I want you to have fun, too…”
“Anything you pick is fine. Promise.”
Corinne squints her eyes, pondering her choices. I glance at the list of titles and almost drop my cone when I see one titled Demon Desires.
Good God, please don’t pick that one, I pray silently. I’ve never seen any movie or TV show with demons that’s anything short of cringe-worthy. Viewing them is downright painful sometimes, with their cheesy, pathetic caricatures of demons and their lifestyles. Grossly misinformed.
“Okay, I want to see Demon Desires,” she says.
Of course you do.
“It’s supposed to be a horror, are you cool with that?”
More like a slapstick comedy you mean. “Sure, whatever you like.”
I could kick myself. Why didn’t I just say that horror movies give me nightmares? It wouldn’t even be a lie, really. This lame movie probably will give me nightmares…daymares, whatever.
It’s my treat, so I step up to the window to buy our tickets. I try not to choke on my words as I say, “Two for Demon Desires, please.” But Corrine is happy, and today is about her, not me. I just have to put my demonic issues aside for a few hours.
As it turns out, I barely make it six minutes before I start laughing at a ‘scary’ part. Corrine shushes me with an annoyed scowl, but I can’t help it; it’s just so ridiculous. I mean really, the music, the makeup…and seriously, why are Hollywood demons always so ugly, with horns and glowing yellow or red eyes? Well, I have to admit some demons have yellow eyes, and a few have red eyes, sometimes…but certainly not all of them. And I’ve never seen any with horns…well, except a few of the creatures…like the satyrs.