"In vacant or in pensive mood..." I am: Bekah; 24; Law Student / Favorite Things: Carbs (so there!), Johnny Damon, Smiling at babies, Grilled cheese, Comfortable silence / Favorite Supreme Court Justice: Brennan / Favorite Wilson: Owen by an inch / Today's Special: Song: Elliott Smith, "Bled White"; Quote: "You know, there's like a butt-load of gangs at this school. This one gang kept wanting me to join because I'm pretty good with a bowstaff." Please love me: mmbekah@yahoo.com


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I watched Flatliners a few weeks ago, and it really freaked me out. I remember seeing it at a slumber party when I was younger and not really understanding it enough to be scared. But I got something out of it the second time around. Something more than an appreciation of the dramatic transformation Julia Roberts' eyebrows have undergone over the past 10 years. The movie is about these med students who kill themselves and then bring themselves back after 2-5 minutes, to test the limits of medicine or to get famous or something. But when they come back, they are all haunted by people from their pasts. Like Kiefer Sutherland's character is haunted by the ghost of a little boy he accidentally killed by knocking him out of a tree with a rock. So, naturally, I get paranoid about all the things I did when I was little that could end up being my eternal torment. And I remembered something.

When I was in third grade, my teacher sent me down to the parking lot with a friend to get a cake she baked out of her car. I think she actually baked it for her paramedic boyfriend's birthday. So we were carrying the cake back toward the school, and I was holding it like a waiter, trying to be cute, when I started to lose my balance. Moments later, my friend and I watched as the cake landed, slow motion, face down on the pavement. I was too shocked to have any immediate reaction, but this "friend" of mine couldn't stop laughing. Evil, maniacal laughter that burns in my ears to this day. She thought it was just hilarious that I had dropped our teacher's "special friend's" cake. The tragedy happened about 3 feet from the cafeteria door, so we decided to bring the cake to the kitchen ladies and see if they could fix it. They cut off the top, and handed us back a lopsided, gravelly monstrosity, which we then presented sheepishly to our teacher. I think I actually said, "See, they fixed it in the kitchen. They got most of the rocks off of it." Did she laugh it off? Did she deal with it like a normal adult? Oh no. In fact, she burst into tears in front of the entire class. Between sobs she said, "I guess...I'll just...buy a cake instead. I was up all night baking that. Sniff." I just stood there feeling ashamed and confused for making a grownup cry. Obviously the entire ordeal scarred me for life. So after seeing Flatliners I feel like I should make amends, but I have no idea where my teacher is, if she's still dating the paramedic, or if she's still emotionally unstable. All I know is that I will be less than pleased if I'm haunted by my 3rd grade teacher in the netherworld.
posted by Bekah at 11:59 PM :: |