Mon Amie

December 8, 2009
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He had his secrets, she loved his mystery. He got his way, she envied his aggression. There they sat in a white room; the air was dry from the past hours of confinement. The walls, cushioned together, stood tall above a porcelain floor. Pierre and Michelle sat, holding an unbreakable stare; everything else went unnoticed. The glowing lights above, flickering with every swing—unnoticed. The steel silver gun resting in the center of the floor—unnoticed. They stared, hawked, and her eyes were lethargic.

“Nothing else in ze world,” he chuckled deeply; his eyes were blankly watching her. “Nothing else in ze world, mmm, but me?” He said again, this time leaning forward. His body was relaxed, his jaw line protruding, and his eyes squint. A confused expression crossed Michelle’s face, she folded her arms.

“What,” she whispered, “how could you even as…?”

“Answer me!” Pierre shouted as his hands balled to fists.

“Yes,” Michelle murmured, her eyes swelled, “nothing else.”
His body released when she spoke the last words. A mad grin came across his masculine face. His eyes narrowed once again.
“Well, zen, we’ll just have to see, will we not.”
Pierre reached forward with his right hand. He wrapped his fingers around the grip of the gun, his index on the trigger. He slid the gun slowly towards his body.

“Are you scared now?” Pierre asked, his eyes tracing the gun from barrel to hammer.
Michelle answered with a stare.

“Tell me,” he smiled, “tell me why you are so scared.”

“No,” Michelle muttered, her lips barely separating.

“Tell me why,” Pierre said persistently.

“I told you, I’m not scared. I’m not anything!” Michelle’s lip began to quiver; she quickly covered her weakness by pressing her forearm against her mouth, but her eyes gave away her tears.

“You are somezing, mon amie” Pierre expressed tenderly.
He could feel her slowly slipping.

“No,” she retorted strongly as she wiped away her tears.

“I’ll help you change that, no? Let’s play a game. I give you this gun, and you tell me. Tell me everyzing, but only me. If you don’t tell me, zen you pull this.” Pierre pointed to the silver trigger that lay flat against his hand. “Zen it will be my turn,” he explained while looking deep into her barren gaze.

“Okay” Michelle agreed softly, she released a deep breath and began to shovel through her menacing thoughts. Her eyes glazed over.

“I came here when it started. I don’t know why. They treated me well, but they always listened outside my door, I knew they listened outside my door, I could see them. I could hear them, I always hear them, but you made them stop. When you came, Pierre, I was free, you made them stop. That’s why I love you, Pierre, Pierre. I love you, Pierre, did you hear me. I couldn’t stop them from talking. But I still love you.” Michelle struggled, her eyes still fixed on a far away object.

“Finish,” Pierre pleaded, “zis is not it, not ze ending, right?”
“Yes, it is,Pierre. I told you that you are everything, nothing else. You are it!” Michelle screamed as she reached out to grab a hold of Pierre’s seemingly cotton shirt. Her action was too slow, she gripped thin air.
“You’re lying to me now,” comforted Pierre, “tell me why you lie?”
“I’m not, how could I,” she whimpered, “how could I?”
Michelle squeezed the gun in her right hand. She knew what she had to do. She slowly raised the gun to her temple, breathing deeply.

“Is this what you want, Pierre? Is this what you really want? I’ll only do this for you.”
She began to sob quietly, but no answer came, just the silence of the room. CLICK. Her fingers clenched. She did it, she had pulled the trigger, but nothing happened.

“Good.” A voice faded in from a distance, it was Pierre.

“I thought you left.”

“And why would I ever do zat. I’ll leave when you leave.”

“I’m not ever leaving you,” exclaimed Michelle, her eyes widened and filled.

“It’s my turn.” Pierre reminded.
The room was soundless. No one spoke. This, silence, lasted for an immeasurable amount of time. She sat there with nothing--emptiness. But, she was the first one to break.

“I’m here, I’m not lost, I’m here.”
Silence struck once again. This time you could hear the deep breaths of Michelle. Inhaling and exhaling unevenly.

“I’m here I said, I’m not lost.” She managed to whisper out, but no reply.
Pierre did not return until she began to explain. He refused to join unless he was sure she was in the midst of a stream of consciousness.

“My family was once here, they loved me, they love me. But the others knew this, and they didn’t like it, they would take my thoughts away from me, take them away, they wished I had no family; they wanted to be my family. Mother stopped coming, and now you’ve stopped coming, what am I supposed to do? What am I going to do?” Michelle rambled on behind dried tears.

“You are going to take ze gun.” Pierre rejoined



“I thought…”

“I said I won’t leave, unless you leave, of course.”

“And I can’t go…”

“Right, so I can’t eizer.”

“So, you love me too, we are together,” giggled Michelle, “you love me too.”

“Take ze gun, and place it to your head,” Pierre emphasized.

“Ok, I trust you,” she said slowly.

“Now, once you’ve done zat, pull ze trigger, and I will leave.”

“But you said…” Michelle said hopefully.

“We will leave.”
Michelle spun the imaginable chamber, and palmed the gun once again. This time she wasn’t hesitant about putting the shiny barrel to her head. Inhaled and relaxed, inhaled and relaxed, she was saying something unintelligent. She took a breath, BANG!

The door of Michelle’s room cracked open. Dr. McCall came in to make his daily round. He looked at Michelle puzzled. She was sprawled out on the floor with her index and thumb extended out, the tips of them against her head.

“How do you feel today, Michelle?” Dr. McCall questioned joyfully.

“Where is Pierre? “

“Who is Pierre, Michelle?”

“I’ll pull this, tell me where Pierre is, or I’ll pull this,” Michelle barked wildly.

“Michelle, calm down. There is no Pierre; I’m going to take your vitals, alright?”

“No, you’re lying to me, now. Tell me why you lie? Pierre told me you would do this, I can’t. But tell me where Pierre is, I love him. Don’t you know that I love him?” Michelle put all her words together, never stopping for a breath.

“Michelle.” Dr. McCall said sternly.

“I’m going to pull it, now, so we can be together. POW” Michelle emitted this as if she were a child playing Cowboys and Indians. Her lips held a slightly mad grin. “I’ll leave when you leave,” she chuckled deeply again. Dr. McCall did his routine, unbeknownst to Michelle, and shut the door behind him. The room was nothing. There Michelle sat against her white cushioned walls, staring, fixated on a distant object. Confined in a four by four room, she sat with her fingers extended out, listening to Pierre. She began to mumble under her breath…

“Mon amie, mon amie, mon amie…”

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