The Devil’s Playground

Jareth flicked the Zippo lighter open with his thumb, and quickly brought it back down, striking the flint wheel. A slow, steady flame arose from the wick. He looked at the fire briefly before bringing it to the Marlboro that was already nestled comfortably between his black lipstick covered lips. He inhaled deeply. It was his first cigarette in four days, and he let the nicotine take him. His willing lungs offered themselves in sacrifice to fulfill the desires of a small, albeit powerful, spot in his brain.

For long moments he watched himself smoke as he stared at his reflection coming from the darkened computer monitor. Dyed black hair hung low over his face. His pale skin seemed almost ghostly white, contrasted by his dark lips and thick, black eyeliner that lined his deep brown eyes. He really didn’t care for the way he looked. Being one of the “Goth-Boiz” meant he really didn’t care for much at all. Somewhere deep inside he knew that was bullshit, though. There was something about the repulsed reactions of passersby. Nameless strangers looked upon him with either loathing or fear. It made him feel superior.

Jareth really wasn’t a bad kid. He hadn’t even been “Jareth” for very long. His real name was Brian Luedke, and in reality, was an eighteen-year-old senior at Hamilton High. Sadly, Jareth’s story was all too common. His father ran out on him and his mother when he was just seven. It was pretty much the “Brian and Carol show” until he turned thirteen. Then, on a star-struck night, Carol met “Dr. Carl Watkins, PhD.” Dr. Carl called himself a “Relationship Therapist.” He actually was second rate Dr. Phil who had somehow gotten his garden variety of diatribe published. As his mother got deeper involved with the good doctor, Brian felt as if he were kicked to the curb. All of this led to Brian’s “rebellion-for-attention”, according to Dr. Carl. The “rebellion” started small, but snowballed into the birth of “Jareth”, the “Goth-Boi” who was currently watching himself smoke.

“What are you?” He asked, staring accusingly into his own eyes. Not wanting an answer, he hit the space bar on the keyboard, waking his computer from its digital hibernation. He watched his reflection slowly fade and turn into the Microsoft Windows XP home screen. He looked to the lower right corner of the screen and saw that it was already 7:03 pm. His friends would be over soon, seeing as his Mother and Step Father were out on another “book tour.” “Book tour” was a clever way to say “vacation.” Clever enough to be able to write the entire trip off as far as the IRS was concerned. Good ole cheap Dr. Carl. Having sex with Jareth’s mother wasn’t even worth the price of a hotel room.

Surfing the net before his friends arrived had its advantages. Sometimes he would stumble across a cool site that they all would bookmark later. Most of the time, though, he would have the privacy to be able to find the perfect porn picture that would later fuel his autoerotic fantasies. Some things had to be kept private. Jareth wasn’t in the mood for that tonight, though. His preoccupation with death had hit an all time high in the past three months. Losing a friend can do that to you. Especially a friend like Reign.

Jareth reached for the badge that was pinned to his black trench coat and unclasped it with his right hand. He gently stroked it with his thumb, feeling the small, embossed letters that spelled SECURITY ENFORCEMENT OFFICER as he held it up to his eyes. Reign was with him when he ripped it off of the Security Guard’s shirt, his one real act of defiance. Reign had stopped by late one night, and told Jareth that there was something he had to see. Jareth had asked about the other guys, but Reign cut him off.

“No. Not them. This has to be just between you and me.” Reign said.

The two of them drove off together in silence. Jareth’s mind was blazing. What could be so important? Why just us? He pretended to be aloof, though. He wanted to be just as cool and collected as Reign was. That was the moment that Jareth decided that it was all right to have a little crush on another guy, just as long as that thought stayed locked within the confines of his own mind.

Reign pulled off of the main road about two miles before the Burger King that they used to hang around when they were younger, and pulled onto a winding dirt road, lined with thick Birch trees.

“Get Ready. We’re just about there.” Reign said.

It wasn’t a road they had turned onto, but a driveway. They drove through what used to be an iron gate, with a wrought iron arched sign that still stood. It read “Saint Killians.”

“Where are we?” Jareth asked.

“Just wait for it.” Reign said. He smirked a little as he looked at Jared.

The brick building that they parked next to looked to be about a hundred years old, maybe more. The windows were boarded up, and there was a thick chain across the giant doors, secured with a rusty, old lock. The exterior walls were riddled with graffiti, declaring things like, “Class of ’82 Rules”, and “Sara Luvs Andy.” Off to the right, two stone statues stood, facing each other. One was what looked like it could have been Jesus at one time, the other, obviously, Mother Mary. Just beyond the statues were rows of old headstones. The Caretaker, it seemed, had taken the last sixty years off.

“A cemetery.” Jared stated.

“Abandoned.” Reign replied. “And that used to be a church.” He added, pointing to the run down, brick building.

They stepped out of Reign’s Toyota and walked toward the headstones. Jareth stopped briefly at the statue of what used to be Jesus, adorned in stone robes. Jesus’ face, although ravaged by weather, was still comforting and serene. Jareth caught up to Reign, who was pulling a flask out of the left side inner pocket of his long coat.

“Here.” Reign said, extending the newly uncapped flask toward Jareth. “This will help take the creepiness out of this place.”

“Thanks.” Jareth said. He brought the silver flask to his lips and swallowed hard. A smooth burn went down his throat and rested in the pit of his stomach. Scotch, his favorite.

“I thought you’d like this place. I found it a couple of weeks ago. It’s just dark enough to appeal to you.” Reign said.

Reign was right. Jareth was almost mystified by the beauty and utter sadness of it all. Unfortunately, his wonder was short lived. Red and Blue flashing lights filled the night sky as what appeared to be a squad car rolled urgently down the driveway towards them.

“Oh shit.” Said Reign. He took the flask instantly and returned it to his inside pocket. “Let me do the talking.”

“Well, well, well…what do we have here?” Asked what appeared to be a police officer. A bright white flashlight shined in Jareth’s face, blinding him painfully. It emanated from the uniformed, surprise guest, who abandoned his parked, yet running vehicle. Jareth covered his eyes, in a vain attempt to shield them from the light.

“Just hanging around, officer.” Reign replied.

“Just trespassing on private property is what you mean, ain’t it, boys?”

“Sorry, I didn’t see that posted anywhere. We’ll be leaving, Sir.”

Jareth’s eyesight was recovering as he looked toward the squad car. Painted on the side of it in big bold letters was “Stanley Security.” What appeared to be a police officer was a security guard with an attitude. Power corrupts. An idea suddenly popped in his head. Jareth was sick of people pushing him or his friends around.