A songfic dedicated to two friends of mine. Things have been hard for everyone these past few weeks, for multiple reasons. All it needs are a few stupid, ignorant people to make it seem like nothing is worth it anymore. Message to those of you who think you can make it in this world based on quick judgments and stereotypes: wake up.
Yes. It is I that owns Invader Zim, not Jhonen Vasquez, even though his name follows Invader Zim almost wherever he goes, and my name is practically unknown to you people. I also own the song "Trouble" by Coldplay. Aren't I the renaissance girl or what? Anyway, I suggest you get yourselves over to Aimster or to a place to download this song, because it's just... awesome. Or, check out the music video. Absolutely stunning. Anyway... yeah. Here's the fic I dedicate to Alicia and Jade. I wish you both well.
And one more thing: if you flame me without reading this story, you're making a terrible, terrible mistake. If you want to think 'what happened to that ZAGR writer, who crossed over to the dark side?' you can e-mail mean and I'll *explain* to you. Other than that, I don't want to hear it.
Trouble
By: Amethyst Soul
"What happened? Your... face..."
"It's nothing."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Pause.
"Why... why are you here?"
"I'm leaving."
"...what?"
"I'm leaving. We can't stay here anymore. We have to-"
"I'm coming with you."
"No. You can't."
"Why not? I thought..."
"It isn't that. Well... it is..."
"I can't believe you're telling me this."
"I'm... sorry..."
"You're going to let a bunch of ignorant people-"
"Some of those people happen to be my family. I can't..."
"You can't choose me over your family."
"No. No, no, no! It's not like that. Please... it's not like that."
"Are we..."
"Yes."
"Are you..."
"I am."
Silence.
"I need to go."
"You're just going... to leave like that?"
"Five hours into tomorrow."
"Because of me?"
"Because of /me/."
Hesitation.
"...will I see you again?"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Another sun rose bleakly across the sky, beginning another day. As soon as he opened his eyes, the feelings flooded into him, a torrent entity that panged him within. A breath escaped him that could be seen in small puffs in the air, a sound following it that could be recognized as a soft cry. Without any tears in his hollow eyes, he sat up, throwing his covers onto the floor as he did so. He stood in front of a shattered mirror, twelve of his own reflections staring back at him. They all had the same dim shadows under their eyes, trembling lips that could not quite find the strength to purse closed, matted, messy hair that hands rarely found the strength to brush properly. After all these years, this was what he had become.
Oh no, I see,
I spun a web, it's tangled up with me,
And I lost my head,
The thought of all the stupid things I said.
He closed his eyes, thinking about the recurrent dreams that always became never-ending nightmares. He tried to imagine a better way to end them, and each day he imagined something different. Today, he imagined running away. Not simply from home, but from everything. He found himself in a cave, and imagine walking along the dank and dark walls, his hand feeling the edges of the cold, moist rock that were his only guide. Where was the torch that glowed brightly, even in the silky wet murkiness of complete darkness? Where was the flame that burned with vigor, consuming the loneliness as it spread? Wherever it was, it wasn't here. He would walk, and walk, deeper into the Earth, and he'd wonder distantly why he walked closer to his fate; why did he plunge himself deeper into the clutches of the troubles that had already grasped him? But it was a thought at the back of his mind, and he would continue on. He wildly imagined for a moment, being trapped in a web. Being unable to move, no matter how much he screamed and struggled and twisted, trying to break free. He would be caught, unable to move. And then, in the darkness, as his own breath and inner light faded, he would be gently embraced, a bold fire breaking the bond between him and the web. And he would remain liberated, in the arms of...
And then he would open his eyes, and face the mirror again, and his twelve reflections, staring back at him. He'd sigh, fake a smile, and get ready for school, making a mental note to get a new mirror that instantly was the last thought in his mind. He turned, walking past his still, slumbering roommate. There wasn't a reason to be up this early, other than the fact that no one else was up at this time. Walking down the empty halls, without a single person to compare himself to, he didn't feel alone.
Oh no what's this?
A spider web, and I'm caught in the middle,
I turned to run,
The thought of all the stupid things I've done.
He sat back in the coffee shop, sipping a warm liquid that he never tasted. The place was empty, save for the single worker who sat at the coffee machine, looking bored out of her mind. Maybe her life was as dire as his. No one's life could possibly be wonderful- so wonderful that they woke up every morning, feeling the thriving desire to meet the world. The world never wanted to meet anyone, and it took someone either extremely strong, or extremely empty, to face it without one moment in their lives breaking down and crying, shuddering cold tears without any reason at all, when the source of the problem was all around them. He used to endure that. Not anymore.
He thought back to the person he hadn't had enough sense to give up the world for. He thought about him every day, with that strong, horrible gut-feeling clenching him inside each time. Cringing slightly, he set his drink down and looked out the window, continuing his descent.
He left him. He betrayed him. He could have given up the world for him, and he didn't. He was protecting him.
Of course everyone's reaction was of no surprise when news of their 'alliance' got out. It would have been wrong to expect anything else, in a society conditioned the way it was. For the longest time, they would tell each other that it didn't matter what other people thought. Those that looked at them with cock-eyed expressions as they walked down the street together. The group of twelve year old girls wearing make up thicker than a circus clown's, and less clothes with each coming generation, laughing cruelly when they should have been looking in a mirror, getting an epiphany of their own. Even the people who put on the false smiles, and said 'hello', but deep down, resented their entire being- their ignorance was matched with disregard. And yet, it was killing them both. Him more than the alien, because he was more dependant on this society. These were his people, who turned their back on him because he was open about who he was. People, who liked to tear and claw at everyone's outer shell, while struggling within themselves to keep their own up. To call them hypocrites would be polite.
Everywhere they went, they fell under the scrutinizing eyes of the public, enduring all the ignorant, horrible slurs that came their way. And that never mattered, until the slurs became physical. They couldn't endure a moment of peace alone, not out in the world. And when one day, when he was alone, a group of boys decided to use a force so strong that it nearly hospitalized him...
His father decided it'd be best they move. And he agreed. He couldn't let what happened to him happen to Zim.
Dib stopped his train of thought, cursing himself. He shouldn't have thought that. Now... now he'll want to say it aloud. Now, he'll want to give in to his selfish tendencies, and leave this place. He'll think that he didn't belong here. He'll get up, and get to his dorm, and get packed. Then halfway through it, as he always did, he'd stop, and know that he couldn't go back to him. He loved him, and that was why he couldn't go back.
Dib sighed, and took another sip. The caffeine rushed through his veins, to every inch of his body, and he forced himself to stay seated. He wouldn't get up. Not this time. He slowly had trained himself to hold back, and each day it took more and more energy not to give in. He stared at the caffeine- his only source of energy now- and suddenly wanted more.
As he stood up, a piano melody was playing across the radio of the coffee shop. He shuddered, and stopped, as each tone gnawed at the wounds in him. It was that kind of song that made you remember, as though there were something from long ago that shouldn't be forgotten. The song that you could kick back and listen to on a rainy, summer day, with the person you cared about, and...
Dib crumpled the cup up and threw it away. He left the coffee shop, making his way toward the dorm room.
I never meant to cause you trouble,
And I never meant to do you wrong,
And I, well if I ever caused you trouble,
Oh no, I never meant to do you harm.
As he walked, Dib imagined running into Zim. He'd still see him sometimes, intruding his train of thought, or within the obscured shadows of the night. In his dreams, in his fantasies, always just out of reach. He was at the back of his mind, at the front of his thoughts, at the center of each waking moment.
He wished that the unspoken words had been said. He wished he had told him that he would regret living every moment of his life. That he wanted to be selfish, and have him again. That he didn't care who he put at risk, or who he'd have to plow through to get to him. An inner desire gripped him that was so strong, it crushed his torpid system. Everything he had felt over the years- and everything he hadn't- none of it mattered. Dib looked up at the sky, and breathed deeply. He wanted to cry. He wanted to break down into his arms, and confess everything, and be comforted, and be happy again. How much would he risk for love? How much would he risk for /his/ own pleasure? He couldn't do that to him. He was trapped.
He walked faster, now, realizing that the sun was higher in the sky; the clouds, reflecting a little brighter. It was almost time for class. There was now a collective littering the school in small patches, here and there. Friends, and enemies. Acquaintances, and strangers. All with their own faults. All with their own troubles. And yet they couldn't step outside of themselves to see that, in all of their differences, they were all alike. They were connected, in a circle, their true shape was so obscured from their own minds that they couldn't see that. They set themselves apart from each other, instead of drawing each other in. And for what reason? No matter what reason anyone could think of, it wouldn't justify anything.
As he passed some of these groups of people, he couldn't help but wonder if they were all the same way. Surely, someone from this crowd could be awake like he was? Surely, one of them could see what he could see. Could feel how lonely they all were. Or were they all like the rest? The girl, laughing as she holds her books- would she understand? The boy, who was talking to a crowd of people- did he have his eyes shut to the world?
Oh no I see,
A spider web and it's me in the middle,
So I twist and turn,
Here I am in love in a bubble.
He had woken up years ago.
He had woken up, and he wished he didn't. He had woken up, in a world where many had not. He was aware, and always would be. He couldn't shut his eyes and go back to sleep. He couldn't pretend that he had never woken up in the first place; it had already tainted him. Thrust its full effects on him. Forced him more and more awake every day.
He looked at himself now, and wondered how he could have never known. How could he have never been awake before as he was now? And then he looked out the window, beyond his classroom, where moral corruption seethed at the cores of so many people. Where the meaning of sentiency was replaced with ignorance, and the meaning of love a distorted mirror image of what it truly was.
Being awake was so clear, how could things have been so obscure before? Regretfully, he wished he didn't have to wake up. He would give anything to be those people out there- to be free, from having to look around and actually see the corruption within them all. From having to endure the pain of being one of the select few. And just how many of those people out there were 'awake'? One could never tell. Some of those people were so far into denial, that they had forced themselves to believe that being awake was not a reality. Some of them were so afraid that they hid their consciousness under a mask of stupidity. Were they satisfied? Or was the throbbing agony even worse within them?
School was over, and he had felt as though it all passed within a blink's moment. He would work on his homework, and call his family at home. Dad wouldn't be there, but Gaz would. She'd tell him that things were the same as ever, and that he didn't need to call. But he would still call every day, and she would be glad. It meant another day that he hadn't given up. It meant another day that he could possibly wake up himself, no matter how 'awake' he thought he was, and realize that loving Zim wasn't selfish.
He'd get off the phone with her, and go out for a night walk. He was trapped in these endless days of torment, struggling to hold back, and give up at the same time. This was his one and only moment of rapture- stepping out into the clear air, breathing, and alone once more, under an endless dark sky, able to think, to feel, to be himself, in the darkness, and forget about the tangled labyrinth of a society that had trapped him. He was trapped in a labyrinth that he couldn't get out of, yet he was too stubborn to ask for help in escape. Asking for help would be weak, yes, but that wasn't what plagued him. He'd have to ask help from someone who would risk themselves to endure the pain and torture of that one night that forever branded his mind. With that in mind, Dib walked deeper into the maze of his own despair. The walls, the world. The pathway, his own creation.
Tonight, he tried not to think about him. Instead, he turned his mind to the night that it had happened. He had been alone, and they had surrounded him. They kept destroying him, with their words, and their other weapons that had more mass to them. He had remembered looking up at a sky, not unlike this one, and not feeling a bit of pain except a panging in his heart to be accompanied by the one he loved. His eyes were badly bruised, and he could barely see. He had picked himself up; dragged himself home. He had gotten medical assistance. And he had gotten the news: he would be taken away from this place. Their entire family would get a new start. A life that Dib wouldn't screw up this time.
He shuddered, remembering the look on his sister's face when he walked in. The way his father had looked at him, when he came home as soon as Gaz had called him- such pity. Such horrible, filthy pity. He had ruined their lives, he knew. His father was not the respected man that he once had been. Membrane was the father of a gay- and that had everything to do with his scientific capabilities, of course. His sister, even though she could care less what people thought of her, suffered, too. They notched her grades down one, because of course, she can't possibly be a good student if her brother was gay. They didn't accept her into the school play. They said that she wasn't what they were looking for- tacitly, they meant that they didn't want someone who was the sister of someone who was looked down upon. Even in her natural field of perfection, electronics, she was denied equality.
The night's charcoal clouds drifted over the mood, and Dib sighed, leaning against a tree. Why was did he ever care what people said? His father and his sister supported him. He was happy, even with all this happening around him. He had someone who he cherished. And then in that one night, it was destroyed. It became much more real than simple words and thoughts.
Singing, "I never meant to cause you trouble,
I never meant to do you wrong,
And I, well if I ever caused you trouble,
Although no, I never meant to do you harm."
'Some people love, and some people die.'
It sounded like something from out of a fortune cookie.
That was what they had always told each other. They had sworn more than allegiance, they had sworn each other. Some people loved, and some people died.
People who love are the ones that have lived.
Without it, life was hardly worth it. And once he had it, Dib found himself living for the first time. Throwing down his anger, and his assumptions. He let himself go, and became vulnerable to the one person he never thought he would. And it turned out not to be that one person who hurt him after all.
He had lived, and now he wanted to die.
He stood up, and walked back to his dorm, shivering from the cold. His roommate was gone, most likely out on a date, or at a party. Dib didn't particularly care. He sat down, and began to write. A long letter, that would have made him cry had he not felt so vacant.
He folded it, and wrote on the top: "Just in case I die tomorrow..." and stuffed it in an envelope, adding the address. It was a teaser, for him. This was his seventieth letter. At that moment, an overwhelming fatigue enveloped him and he could have sworn that he had put the letter in with all the other unsent letters in the box beneath his bed.
It fell to the floor, as Dib fell to the bed.
Hours later, his roommate walked in. He noticed the letter on the floor, and picked it up. He thought he was doing a congenial favor by adding a stamp, and putting it in the mailbox. He might very well have been. He, by now, was aware of who Dib was. The silent, pale boy who 'never talked with anyone but himself' had many a time left open his letters and e-mails in broad light for anyone to see. It was evident in his debate papers, and the way he'd comment under his breath every time he'd hear some news relating to the subject.
Dib was currently lost in his dreaming reality, where once again, his former self, and his former love, played out the scene again and again until morning arrived. Ending at a point where Dib would have to come up with his own conclusion when he awoke.
They spun a web for me.
They spun a web for me.
They spun a web for me.
Another sun rose bleakly across the sky, beginning another day. As soon as he opened his eyes, the feelings flooded into him, a torrent entity that panged him within. A breath escaped him...
End.
Yes. It is I that owns Invader Zim, not Jhonen Vasquez, even though his name follows Invader Zim almost wherever he goes, and my name is practically unknown to you people. I also own the song "Trouble" by Coldplay. Aren't I the renaissance girl or what? Anyway, I suggest you get yourselves over to Aimster or to a place to download this song, because it's just... awesome. Or, check out the music video. Absolutely stunning. Anyway... yeah. Here's the fic I dedicate to Alicia and Jade. I wish you both well.
And one more thing: if you flame me without reading this story, you're making a terrible, terrible mistake. If you want to think 'what happened to that ZAGR writer, who crossed over to the dark side?' you can e-mail mean and I'll *explain* to you. Other than that, I don't want to hear it.
Trouble
By: Amethyst Soul
"What happened? Your... face..."
"It's nothing."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Pause.
"Why... why are you here?"
"I'm leaving."
"...what?"
"I'm leaving. We can't stay here anymore. We have to-"
"I'm coming with you."
"No. You can't."
"Why not? I thought..."
"It isn't that. Well... it is..."
"I can't believe you're telling me this."
"I'm... sorry..."
"You're going to let a bunch of ignorant people-"
"Some of those people happen to be my family. I can't..."
"You can't choose me over your family."
"No. No, no, no! It's not like that. Please... it's not like that."
"Are we..."
"Yes."
"Are you..."
"I am."
Silence.
"I need to go."
"You're just going... to leave like that?"
"Five hours into tomorrow."
"Because of me?"
"Because of /me/."
Hesitation.
"...will I see you again?"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Another sun rose bleakly across the sky, beginning another day. As soon as he opened his eyes, the feelings flooded into him, a torrent entity that panged him within. A breath escaped him that could be seen in small puffs in the air, a sound following it that could be recognized as a soft cry. Without any tears in his hollow eyes, he sat up, throwing his covers onto the floor as he did so. He stood in front of a shattered mirror, twelve of his own reflections staring back at him. They all had the same dim shadows under their eyes, trembling lips that could not quite find the strength to purse closed, matted, messy hair that hands rarely found the strength to brush properly. After all these years, this was what he had become.
Oh no, I see,
I spun a web, it's tangled up with me,
And I lost my head,
The thought of all the stupid things I said.
He closed his eyes, thinking about the recurrent dreams that always became never-ending nightmares. He tried to imagine a better way to end them, and each day he imagined something different. Today, he imagined running away. Not simply from home, but from everything. He found himself in a cave, and imagine walking along the dank and dark walls, his hand feeling the edges of the cold, moist rock that were his only guide. Where was the torch that glowed brightly, even in the silky wet murkiness of complete darkness? Where was the flame that burned with vigor, consuming the loneliness as it spread? Wherever it was, it wasn't here. He would walk, and walk, deeper into the Earth, and he'd wonder distantly why he walked closer to his fate; why did he plunge himself deeper into the clutches of the troubles that had already grasped him? But it was a thought at the back of his mind, and he would continue on. He wildly imagined for a moment, being trapped in a web. Being unable to move, no matter how much he screamed and struggled and twisted, trying to break free. He would be caught, unable to move. And then, in the darkness, as his own breath and inner light faded, he would be gently embraced, a bold fire breaking the bond between him and the web. And he would remain liberated, in the arms of...
And then he would open his eyes, and face the mirror again, and his twelve reflections, staring back at him. He'd sigh, fake a smile, and get ready for school, making a mental note to get a new mirror that instantly was the last thought in his mind. He turned, walking past his still, slumbering roommate. There wasn't a reason to be up this early, other than the fact that no one else was up at this time. Walking down the empty halls, without a single person to compare himself to, he didn't feel alone.
Oh no what's this?
A spider web, and I'm caught in the middle,
I turned to run,
The thought of all the stupid things I've done.
He sat back in the coffee shop, sipping a warm liquid that he never tasted. The place was empty, save for the single worker who sat at the coffee machine, looking bored out of her mind. Maybe her life was as dire as his. No one's life could possibly be wonderful- so wonderful that they woke up every morning, feeling the thriving desire to meet the world. The world never wanted to meet anyone, and it took someone either extremely strong, or extremely empty, to face it without one moment in their lives breaking down and crying, shuddering cold tears without any reason at all, when the source of the problem was all around them. He used to endure that. Not anymore.
He thought back to the person he hadn't had enough sense to give up the world for. He thought about him every day, with that strong, horrible gut-feeling clenching him inside each time. Cringing slightly, he set his drink down and looked out the window, continuing his descent.
He left him. He betrayed him. He could have given up the world for him, and he didn't. He was protecting him.
Of course everyone's reaction was of no surprise when news of their 'alliance' got out. It would have been wrong to expect anything else, in a society conditioned the way it was. For the longest time, they would tell each other that it didn't matter what other people thought. Those that looked at them with cock-eyed expressions as they walked down the street together. The group of twelve year old girls wearing make up thicker than a circus clown's, and less clothes with each coming generation, laughing cruelly when they should have been looking in a mirror, getting an epiphany of their own. Even the people who put on the false smiles, and said 'hello', but deep down, resented their entire being- their ignorance was matched with disregard. And yet, it was killing them both. Him more than the alien, because he was more dependant on this society. These were his people, who turned their back on him because he was open about who he was. People, who liked to tear and claw at everyone's outer shell, while struggling within themselves to keep their own up. To call them hypocrites would be polite.
Everywhere they went, they fell under the scrutinizing eyes of the public, enduring all the ignorant, horrible slurs that came their way. And that never mattered, until the slurs became physical. They couldn't endure a moment of peace alone, not out in the world. And when one day, when he was alone, a group of boys decided to use a force so strong that it nearly hospitalized him...
His father decided it'd be best they move. And he agreed. He couldn't let what happened to him happen to Zim.
Dib stopped his train of thought, cursing himself. He shouldn't have thought that. Now... now he'll want to say it aloud. Now, he'll want to give in to his selfish tendencies, and leave this place. He'll think that he didn't belong here. He'll get up, and get to his dorm, and get packed. Then halfway through it, as he always did, he'd stop, and know that he couldn't go back to him. He loved him, and that was why he couldn't go back.
Dib sighed, and took another sip. The caffeine rushed through his veins, to every inch of his body, and he forced himself to stay seated. He wouldn't get up. Not this time. He slowly had trained himself to hold back, and each day it took more and more energy not to give in. He stared at the caffeine- his only source of energy now- and suddenly wanted more.
As he stood up, a piano melody was playing across the radio of the coffee shop. He shuddered, and stopped, as each tone gnawed at the wounds in him. It was that kind of song that made you remember, as though there were something from long ago that shouldn't be forgotten. The song that you could kick back and listen to on a rainy, summer day, with the person you cared about, and...
Dib crumpled the cup up and threw it away. He left the coffee shop, making his way toward the dorm room.
I never meant to cause you trouble,
And I never meant to do you wrong,
And I, well if I ever caused you trouble,
Oh no, I never meant to do you harm.
As he walked, Dib imagined running into Zim. He'd still see him sometimes, intruding his train of thought, or within the obscured shadows of the night. In his dreams, in his fantasies, always just out of reach. He was at the back of his mind, at the front of his thoughts, at the center of each waking moment.
He wished that the unspoken words had been said. He wished he had told him that he would regret living every moment of his life. That he wanted to be selfish, and have him again. That he didn't care who he put at risk, or who he'd have to plow through to get to him. An inner desire gripped him that was so strong, it crushed his torpid system. Everything he had felt over the years- and everything he hadn't- none of it mattered. Dib looked up at the sky, and breathed deeply. He wanted to cry. He wanted to break down into his arms, and confess everything, and be comforted, and be happy again. How much would he risk for love? How much would he risk for /his/ own pleasure? He couldn't do that to him. He was trapped.
He walked faster, now, realizing that the sun was higher in the sky; the clouds, reflecting a little brighter. It was almost time for class. There was now a collective littering the school in small patches, here and there. Friends, and enemies. Acquaintances, and strangers. All with their own faults. All with their own troubles. And yet they couldn't step outside of themselves to see that, in all of their differences, they were all alike. They were connected, in a circle, their true shape was so obscured from their own minds that they couldn't see that. They set themselves apart from each other, instead of drawing each other in. And for what reason? No matter what reason anyone could think of, it wouldn't justify anything.
As he passed some of these groups of people, he couldn't help but wonder if they were all the same way. Surely, someone from this crowd could be awake like he was? Surely, one of them could see what he could see. Could feel how lonely they all were. Or were they all like the rest? The girl, laughing as she holds her books- would she understand? The boy, who was talking to a crowd of people- did he have his eyes shut to the world?
Oh no I see,
A spider web and it's me in the middle,
So I twist and turn,
Here I am in love in a bubble.
He had woken up years ago.
He had woken up, and he wished he didn't. He had woken up, in a world where many had not. He was aware, and always would be. He couldn't shut his eyes and go back to sleep. He couldn't pretend that he had never woken up in the first place; it had already tainted him. Thrust its full effects on him. Forced him more and more awake every day.
He looked at himself now, and wondered how he could have never known. How could he have never been awake before as he was now? And then he looked out the window, beyond his classroom, where moral corruption seethed at the cores of so many people. Where the meaning of sentiency was replaced with ignorance, and the meaning of love a distorted mirror image of what it truly was.
Being awake was so clear, how could things have been so obscure before? Regretfully, he wished he didn't have to wake up. He would give anything to be those people out there- to be free, from having to look around and actually see the corruption within them all. From having to endure the pain of being one of the select few. And just how many of those people out there were 'awake'? One could never tell. Some of those people were so far into denial, that they had forced themselves to believe that being awake was not a reality. Some of them were so afraid that they hid their consciousness under a mask of stupidity. Were they satisfied? Or was the throbbing agony even worse within them?
School was over, and he had felt as though it all passed within a blink's moment. He would work on his homework, and call his family at home. Dad wouldn't be there, but Gaz would. She'd tell him that things were the same as ever, and that he didn't need to call. But he would still call every day, and she would be glad. It meant another day that he hadn't given up. It meant another day that he could possibly wake up himself, no matter how 'awake' he thought he was, and realize that loving Zim wasn't selfish.
He'd get off the phone with her, and go out for a night walk. He was trapped in these endless days of torment, struggling to hold back, and give up at the same time. This was his one and only moment of rapture- stepping out into the clear air, breathing, and alone once more, under an endless dark sky, able to think, to feel, to be himself, in the darkness, and forget about the tangled labyrinth of a society that had trapped him. He was trapped in a labyrinth that he couldn't get out of, yet he was too stubborn to ask for help in escape. Asking for help would be weak, yes, but that wasn't what plagued him. He'd have to ask help from someone who would risk themselves to endure the pain and torture of that one night that forever branded his mind. With that in mind, Dib walked deeper into the maze of his own despair. The walls, the world. The pathway, his own creation.
Tonight, he tried not to think about him. Instead, he turned his mind to the night that it had happened. He had been alone, and they had surrounded him. They kept destroying him, with their words, and their other weapons that had more mass to them. He had remembered looking up at a sky, not unlike this one, and not feeling a bit of pain except a panging in his heart to be accompanied by the one he loved. His eyes were badly bruised, and he could barely see. He had picked himself up; dragged himself home. He had gotten medical assistance. And he had gotten the news: he would be taken away from this place. Their entire family would get a new start. A life that Dib wouldn't screw up this time.
He shuddered, remembering the look on his sister's face when he walked in. The way his father had looked at him, when he came home as soon as Gaz had called him- such pity. Such horrible, filthy pity. He had ruined their lives, he knew. His father was not the respected man that he once had been. Membrane was the father of a gay- and that had everything to do with his scientific capabilities, of course. His sister, even though she could care less what people thought of her, suffered, too. They notched her grades down one, because of course, she can't possibly be a good student if her brother was gay. They didn't accept her into the school play. They said that she wasn't what they were looking for- tacitly, they meant that they didn't want someone who was the sister of someone who was looked down upon. Even in her natural field of perfection, electronics, she was denied equality.
The night's charcoal clouds drifted over the mood, and Dib sighed, leaning against a tree. Why was did he ever care what people said? His father and his sister supported him. He was happy, even with all this happening around him. He had someone who he cherished. And then in that one night, it was destroyed. It became much more real than simple words and thoughts.
Singing, "I never meant to cause you trouble,
I never meant to do you wrong,
And I, well if I ever caused you trouble,
Although no, I never meant to do you harm."
'Some people love, and some people die.'
It sounded like something from out of a fortune cookie.
That was what they had always told each other. They had sworn more than allegiance, they had sworn each other. Some people loved, and some people died.
People who love are the ones that have lived.
Without it, life was hardly worth it. And once he had it, Dib found himself living for the first time. Throwing down his anger, and his assumptions. He let himself go, and became vulnerable to the one person he never thought he would. And it turned out not to be that one person who hurt him after all.
He had lived, and now he wanted to die.
He stood up, and walked back to his dorm, shivering from the cold. His roommate was gone, most likely out on a date, or at a party. Dib didn't particularly care. He sat down, and began to write. A long letter, that would have made him cry had he not felt so vacant.
He folded it, and wrote on the top: "Just in case I die tomorrow..." and stuffed it in an envelope, adding the address. It was a teaser, for him. This was his seventieth letter. At that moment, an overwhelming fatigue enveloped him and he could have sworn that he had put the letter in with all the other unsent letters in the box beneath his bed.
It fell to the floor, as Dib fell to the bed.
Hours later, his roommate walked in. He noticed the letter on the floor, and picked it up. He thought he was doing a congenial favor by adding a stamp, and putting it in the mailbox. He might very well have been. He, by now, was aware of who Dib was. The silent, pale boy who 'never talked with anyone but himself' had many a time left open his letters and e-mails in broad light for anyone to see. It was evident in his debate papers, and the way he'd comment under his breath every time he'd hear some news relating to the subject.
Dib was currently lost in his dreaming reality, where once again, his former self, and his former love, played out the scene again and again until morning arrived. Ending at a point where Dib would have to come up with his own conclusion when he awoke.
They spun a web for me.
They spun a web for me.
They spun a web for me.
Another sun rose bleakly across the sky, beginning another day. As soon as he opened his eyes, the feelings flooded into him, a torrent entity that panged him within. A breath escaped him...
End.