Max's Musings

By Mackenzie Briley

               "Look there's nothing I can do. Your essay just sucks. I mean, did you even try? Are you stupid?" My teacher berated me constantly anymore, even in front of the class. Because of this, for the most part, I had quit trying, but this, I gave my all. It was an important grade and I wanted the best grade I could get.

          "Well, can I do any extra credit or something?" I pleaded.

          "No. Absolutely not. If you don't try..." Her voice trailed off in my mind as my conscience- no that's the wrong word. You know in cartoons when the little angel and little devil versions of the person appeared on their shoulders?

     Well, Max was my little devil. the only problem is, my little angel was never around. Just picture a girl who is thin and beautiful and five foot nine. Then put her in five inch combat boot platforms, ripped black jeans, and a crop top of some rock band that I've been meaning to listen to for two years. That, was Max. Her long hair was dyed a multitude of colors and the bottom, a sharp but elegant and beautiful contrast from her natural dark blonde hair.

          "Oh my god. Does this bitch ever stop talking?" she asked, putting her clunky boots on my classmates desk. The student, of course, didn't notice as Max is a figment of my imagination. No one but me could see her, which means that no one but me can hear her. A few awkward times of me responding out loud for me to realize that. I responded in my mind.

          "Usually, no. But she'll stop soon enough and then I can sit down and read again. Then I go home." Max raised an eyebrow at me.

          "So that's it," she says, "complacency?" She was disappointed, as usual.

          "No. Just," I hesitated, trying to find the words. "waiting out the storm so that I can move on."

          "And go home?" It was a question but she said it like a statement. I nodded.

          "Fuck that." Max said, rather abruptly.

          "Excuse me?" I responded, shocked. She stared back at me.

          "You heard me. Fuck that. Fuck her. Who does she think she is?"

     Max had a point, but that's not like me. I keep quiet, I let people do what they want, even if they walk all over me in the process. I don't know where Max came from. She says she's a figment of my imagination and I created her to keep me sane and help me 'grow a damn backbone'. She swore a lot. She claims that I want to be like her. I claim she's a liar. I knew she was right but I didn't want to admit it to myself. I was quiet and soft-spoken and kind. Max was loud and opinionated and, pardon my French, a bitch. I didn't want to be like that. I often told her this, I told her she was mean and crude. She said argued by saying she did that on purpose, that she was "punk rock." She wore it well. Suddenly, I realized my teacher was still talking, but Max had disappeared. I tuned back in.

          "...and before you tell your mommy that I was mean to you," she was so condescending. She was talking about an issue between myself and another student that she stuck her nose into and got me suspended. I have no excuse for what came out of my mouth next.

          "I wasn't planning on telling her anything as long as you kept your fat mouth shut." I spat it at her so forcefully it made me step back.

          "Excuse me?"She stammered, obviously shocked.

     I hid my fear of punishment.

          "You heard me." I sounded like Max.

     Then she appeared, right next to my teacher. They both were struggling to keep their jaws off the floor.

     Max squealed with glee.

          "That was amazing! Now say, 'Close your mouth, you'll catch flies in that trap.'"

     Anger took over me.

          "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies in that trap."

     She closed her mouth. I turned from her and the bell rang.

     I scooped up my things and said "See you tomorrow!" as cheerfully as I could muster.

     I walked down the hallway quickly but for the first time in a while, I wasn't miserable.

          "That felt good, didn't it?" Max purred in my ear, her hands on my shoulders.

          "No," I said "That felt great." I smiled at my imaginary friend.

          "You know, pretty soon you won't need me and I'll disappear." She warned.

          "I'll never forget you, Max. Stick around for a little bit longer, though. I think I'll need your help tomorrow."

     She smirked.

          "Definitely, kid." Then she left.

     I picked up my phone and called my mom.

          "Hey, Mom? Can I dye my hair?"