Welcome to the Dark Side: Chapter 6

2012-2013 Zeus is 32. Louise is 13.

Zeus, Tell me another story, a good one where the hero is kind of the villain and the happily ever after isn’t easy coming. I want to hear about adventures and bravery and living life outside of the lines. I read On the Road like you recommended and I loved it. The Zen of Art and Motorcycle Maintenance was good too and I really loved Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Our housekeeper found my copy under the bed and turned it over to my mother who immediately and informed me that I would be going to church camp for the summer again. I hate church camp. Remember last summer when those girls told me I was impure because I was wearing coloured lip chap? I know you said that they were dumb, but it still really bothered me, and I know they’ll be there again this year. They go to my school and I bet you when I go to EBA for high school, they’ll be there too. They call themselves “the angels.” How self-righteous can they get?

My life is so boring. I can’t seem to stop thinking about it. It feels like I’m a Barbie, dressed by someone else’s hand in sensible shoes and sweater sets (did you know I have fourteen different strands of pearls, one for every occasion? Did you even know there was more than one occasion to wear pearls!?). Living the life someone else wants me to live. I’m good at it. I got honours with distinction again this year, which was cool but honestly, kind of easy. Apart from the angels, who are mean and don’t like me because I don’t pretend they’re cool, I have some friends. Not good ones, not like you. I dance five times a week, I do my homework, I obey my parents, volunteer at the Autism Centre, and I go to church on Sunday and whenever else I need absolution (a lot, I admit, and it’s getting worse). I’m a normal thirteen-year-old girl. A woman officially. And I still feel like such a dumb, dull girl.

So, tell me something exciting. I know you are probably driving through the California hills on your bike, drinking beer in some bar or flirting with some really pretty girl because who wouldn’t want to flirt with you?

xoxo, Loulou Loulou, Sure, kid, I’ll tell ya a story. Once upon a fuckin’ time, there was a princess named Lou with a shit ton of golden hair and a smile that lit a person’s heart up. She was sweet and kind but curious. The Queen and King kept her in a big tower away from the rest of the world and only let safe, boring folk through to see her. The princess grew fuckin’ tired of that shit, as anyone would but ’specially a girl as curious, as wild at heart as Lou. So, she made a plan. Instead of runnin’ away, she staged a quiet rebellion in her soul. She made friends with the dull boys and did her duties, so her parents would be happy with her but inside, she worked away at becomin’ the kind of woman she wanted to be when she got old enough to do things her way. She listened to rock and roll, read copies of banned books by the light of her fish tank light late at night, and doodled in the margins of Gideon’s Bible. She was a good kid, a good girl, and when the time came that she turned eighteen, she was ready to take off into the sunset, no man, no rules, just a rucksack filled with booze and jerky, a head fulla crazy dreams and a heart brave enough to do ’em.

Z.

P.S. You aren’t dumb and next time you say somethin’ like that, Lou, I’ll stop writin’ ya.

Zeus, You always threaten to stop writing me… Is it because you don’t want to anymore? I get it. Betsy doesn’t deliver my letters for me anymore. I drop them myself on the way to ballet every Sunday. But she asked me if we still wrote to each other when I saw her a little bit ago and when I said yes, she looked unhappy and told me I was probably bothering you. Am I? You’re my best friend in the whole world but I get that you have kids and a life and a job because you’re an adult and I’m just a girl with like real problems. So if you want to stop writing me… I’ll deal with it.

Loulou Not so little warrior, Don’t be like that, Lou. I get that you’re turnin’ into a woman so this passive aggressive, emotional shit is gonna come up but I’m tellin’ you right now, that kinda insecurity is fuckin’ poison and it’ll eat away at you if you let it until you become a bitter, hollow shell of the cool kid you once were. You’re the shit, Lou. We’ve been writin’ for near on five years now (fuck) so you should know by now that I don’t do anythin’ I don’t want to.

I want to write you. It’s fucked up but yeah, we’re friends. As long as it stays like that, we keep this thing to paper and pen, I’m not goin’ anywhere.

Now, tell me more about these “angel” bitches so we can game plan how you’re gonna win ’em over.

Z.