CassandraGreek Prophet / Metaphor

When I first moved away to college, I had a mysterious neighbor who never left her room. Her roommates told me that her name was Cassandra, she was agoraphobic and that she rarely ventured out. I didn’t really care until classes started and I learned that she was in most of mine. Nonetheless, she never left her room, even to go to class.

Being the nosy neighbor that I was, I decided to stakeout her apartment one weekend. Her roommates told me that they’d all be away, so I figured that if I heard their front door, it would have to be her. As the days rolled by and I heard nothing, I even went so far as to sit outside and read within view of their door. None of it worked.

Late on Sunday afternoon, just as I finally gave up, I decided to peer in to the apartment window. This was harder than it sounds. The apartment was on the second floor and only a small flight of stairs led to its front door. The window was next to the front door and had absolutely nothing under it. To look in, one would have to climb the railing of the stairs, lean over, and brace themselves on the windowsill. It would be difficult, dangerous and look extremely suspicious; nonetheless I ended up doing it.

When I peeked through the window, I saw a figure of a young woman in the apartment. I knocked on the door. It startled the woman. She turned to the window, saw me, and shrieked. She ran for her room and shut the door.

I dismounted the railing and sat on the landing that both our front doors shared. For a minute, I contemplated exactly what I was going to say to the police when they arrived. Then, the door opened. A girl with freckles and long-brown hair peered out and said “hi.”

“I’m sorry, I thought everyone had gone home,” I said.

“They did, just me,” she said, brushing away her hair. “I’m Cassandra.”

“The prophet of Troy?” I asked, I’d been saving it for a while. It didn’t sound as clever as I thought it would.

“Yes,” she smiled. “Do you want to come in and blaze?” she asked me. With that I realized that one way or another I had met someone who would change my life.

* * *
We went to her apartment's common room. She went to the couch and began packing a small pipe. I looked around the apartment then sat down next to her. “Why didn’t you go back home?"

I shrugged. “I guess I thought I’d meet some people on campus.”

“That’s cool,” she said, taking the green hit from the pipe and then handing it to me.

“…so you can see the future then?” I asked. She nodded. “That’s got to be pretty rough.” She nodded again. “People still don’t believe you?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t warn people anymore. There’s no point. It just causes them harm, no matter what I do.”

“Is that why you stay inside?”

She nodded and tears began welling in her brown eyes. “I tried. It’s like everyone else is blind and only I can see the train coming. I feel like I’m supposed to help them get out of the way, but they just won’t listen.”

“But you can’t help them; that’s part of your curse, right?”

“I know,” she dropped her head. “It’s hard to make friends when all you see in people in the way they die.”

I looked up at the ceiling. “Well, I know exactly how I’m going to die. Does that make it any easier for you?”

“Well I don’t know…” she said, looking into my eyes. She jolted, then looked confused, “…I don’t get it, why?”

“I’m a big Natalie Wood fan,” I said, with a goofy smile. She laughed. I took another hit from the pipe. “So then are you thousands of years old?”

“No. I’m the reincarnation of Cassandra.”

“Ohhhh, reincarnation,” I said, nodding as if any of it really made more sense than the rest. “And do you only see how people die?”

“No, I see all time at once.”

“Well that’s a bitch,” I said.

“I know,” she smiled.

“So then how does it all end?”

“With a handshake,” she said.

“Is that prophecy or a movie quote?”

“From where I stand, there’s no difference.”

“That’s way fucked up,” I said. She laughed again, less this time, and took another hit.

There was enough of a lull in the conversation after her laughter that she decided to get up and put on some music. It was a CD of avant-garde jazz. She came back to the table, smiled, and handed me the pipe.

“I can’t quite get a handle on this kind of jazz,” I told her. “I like a lot of different kinds of jazz, but this stuff is just all over the place. I don’t know how people can really enjoy it.”

“You give me this CD in a year’s time,” she said.

“What?”

“In a year, you give me this CD as a gift,” she stated. “That’s where I first learned about it.”

I sat there stunned for a moment, contemplating her words. “It works like that? That’s fucking crazy!” I boomed. She looked away and said nothing. “Well okay, what’s the CD? I’d better learn it now,” I said, reaching for the CD case.

She snatched the case away, “No, you don’t get to know. You have to choose it for yourself.”

“You’re a tricky one, Cassandra,” I said and then took another hit.

“Just Cass.”

“Here’s a question that nobody likes: what do you like to do for fun?”

“I like to get high then watch movies or listen to music or something,” she said.

I looked at her in disbelief, “oh you’re something special alright…”

“Thanks,” she said in a bored tone. I frowned.

“So is it just pointless for me to try and flatter you, Cass?” I said.

“It is,” she said. She came over and sat next to me. As I looked into her eyes, she leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. She pulled away. I smiled at her. Her grin was a lot wider. I went in to kiss her, but she jumped up and sat on an opposing chair. “And that’s as far as we will ever get.”

I frowned, “Well that takes the fun out of it, now doesn’t it?”

“Welcome to my world,” she said. “But now the real question is: knowing that, does it change everything?”

I thought for a minute, “I don’t know. Does it?”

She shrugged while holding in a hit. “I can’t answer that, it’s really up to you.”

“Oh,” I said. “I figured that you could… you know, you could see in to the future and know if telling me that eventually changes what I do.”

“Honestly,” she said, handing me the pipe, “I was trying to be flirty. I don’t think it came off right. I’m sorry.”

“Oh… well that was me trying to flirt back, so I guess we both suck at it.” We both laughed. “…but seriously, never more than a little kiss, huh?”

She looked up at me, about to answer, when we heard the front door unlock. I turned and saw two of her roommates coming back from being home for the weekend. They saw me and stopped in their tracks. As I said, “hey,” I heard the door to Cassandra’s room close. When I turned back, she was gone, of course. I didn’t see her again for months.

And that was the first time I smoked with, and tried to score with, the prophet of the downfall of Troy.