"There are moments when we all become someone else. Something other than what we are. It takes only a moment. But we spend the rest of our lives looking back at that moment in shame," - Delenn, Babylon 5, S05 The Wheel of Fire

All Inside Your Head

By TheOneAndOnly1993

Sadness

Anxiety and pure, unabashed joy roiled in Riley Anderson's belly as she took another two steps up the ramp, getting ever so closer to graduating high school. Pomp and Circumstance blared from the symphonic band, mixing in the air with the cheers and applause of individuals in the gathering of hundreds.

"George Adrande," the Superintendent read, resulting in cheers and shouts of "Adrande!" from the boy's many friends as he walked up the stage, leaving Riley exposed from the front.

Her hands shook in excitement as George spoke some words of gratitude with the various department heads onstage. From the corner of her eye, Riley spotted the ocean of scarlet that was the color of her class's gowns, the primary color of George Washington High School. She knew that out there, in the bleachers set up behind her class of over two-hundred, sat a good chunk of her family; her family, who had come from virtually every corner of the country to watch their little hockey prodigy reach the starting line of adulthood: Dad, who shared her first drink with her on the front porch just a few nights ago, and Mom, who was most definitely asleep before the alcohol was broken out that night (Dad triple checked to make sure), whose somewhat-coddling nature was overbearing at times, but, in this moment, it did not matter; she was her mother, and Riley never would have gotten this far without her. And then there was Grandma and Grandpa, aunts, uncles, cousins large and small, even Riley's favorite, Bonnie.

They were all here, to see Riley. And they would probably scream louder than any of her friends could hope to match. That is, if they aren't bawling their eyes out, quipped a sarcastic but well-meaning voice inside her head. The brief flash of potential embarrassment was immediately turned to overwhelming joy riddled with anxiety pains again.

Oh, did Riley's heart threaten to leap out of her chest. On most days she always felt anxiety was an annoyance, a panic attack waiting to happen, but not on this day. Today, it was a good feeling. Today, she reveled in the butterflies swarming like angry hornets in her belly. Because Riley was walking up to that stage a child, and will step down it a high school grad, practically an adult, with honors and an opportunity to compete in college ice hockey.

A familiar jingle brought her back to reality: she heard the Superintendent, his tone just as formal as with the kids before her. "Riley Anderson," the jingle went.

The roars from her scarlet-clad friends were almost thunderous to her ears. "Anderson!" they screamed. "Riles! RILENATOR!"

Riley could hardly contain her joy any longer, it was a veritable bomb just waiting to be set off. She was only at the top of the ramp, hadn't even received her diploma in that moment, when Riley punched the air and made some warlike noise like she just scored the winning goal in a hockey game.

A smile showed off nearly every straight, white tooth in Riley's mouth as she paced across the stage and received her diploma from the Superintendent. "You must be very happy," he noted, smiling earnestly and shaking her hand. "Congratulations."

"Thanks!" she replied. She did the same with the Mayor and GWHS's principal, Ms. Harper. On most days Riley never liked the crow-like woman, with her hooked nose and vicious stare that always seemed to be looking for an excuse to yell at someone. But Riley grinned and shook her hand anyway, and the old woman smiled back.

As Riley's last name started near the beginning, it was a long wait before everybody received their diplomas. When the end of the ceremony finally came the Superintendent congratulated everybody on their success, and wished them luck one final time for the future. Everybody cheered, and the burnt-orange sky filled with crimson graduation caps.

Riley spent an hour plodding through crowds that only seemed to enlarge as time went on, rather than shrink, as the two hordes of family and grads converged, and later the faculty joined in as well. She made sure to see every one of her hockey mates, teachers, and virtually any person she ended her high school career with on good terms. The five minute walk back to her San Francisco home ended with an ambush of well-wishes, hugs, and kisses from various family members, and well past midnight they drank and ate and toasted in Riley's name. She received a couple thousand dollars in checks to put into her bank account, the most noteworthy of the bunch being from her Grandma Agatha, a nice heavy thousand.

Can't wait for Mom to force the inevitable writing of thank you cards, muttered a bitter voice inside her head, followed by a disgusted, Like we're still in the Stone Age.

But the negative thoughts were quelled when dessert was brought out, and the celebration continued.

After the family slowly trickled back to their various hotels, Riley showered and hopped into bed. The glow of her phone lit the darkness a pale blue. The teen played around with it a bit, updating her status with a picture of her in her graduation outfit with her family when she first got home, captioned, "FREEDOM 2022!" She went to sleep, a content smile on her face.

Inside her head, the screen went dark, and the ensuing silence was only briefly lived before it was shattered by a bout of five individuals cheering and clapping their hands together. "Oh my GOD!" gushed Joy. Her black graduation gown twirled about her ankles as she bounced around the room. "That was the greatest moment of our LIVES!"

"And we didn't get a heart attack!" Fear tossed his cap into the air, and actually managed to catch it. He grinned at his accomplishment, and gestured with it, "That alone makes this a day worth remembering."

"Oh be quiet," tutted Disgust. She was twirling a lock of green hair around her finger. "Today's Riley's special day," her smile was melancholy, "nothing bad would have happened. Nothing."

"And that's because I made sure nothing did!" Fear said rather smugly, rubbing his knuckles into his gown.

While the pair delved into their typical quibbling, Sadness shuffled over to the Memory Racks and strolled along side them, scanning the primarily yellow-flecked-with-purple orbs. A little smile adorned her face that hadn't left since early afternoon, though it almost did when Dad gave the heartfelt speech after dinner that he wrapped up with tears glistening in his eyes; the corners of her mouth almost sagged when she thought of the new Core Memory, blue flecked with gold.

His words still echoed in her mind, haunting her, terrifying her. She purged them from her thoughts as best she could, which proved an easy feat once she came across a particular memory orb.

"Here it is," she said, trying to reach up to the memory, but even the elevation of her tiptoes offered no success.

"I gotcha kid," said a gruff voice from behind. "Up we go!" Sadness yelped a little as she felt someone dive down between her feet and pick her up by her ankles. She wobbled a bit, then looked down and realized that Anger was beneath her, gazing up to her with one of his big toothy smiles, the rare kind that didn't have an ounce of malevolence in their output. Sadness smiled at him gratefully before reaching over with ease and plucking the golden orb, the one that shone almost as brightly as a Core Memory.

Sadness had to squint her eyes to keep from going blind while viewing the memory. Within the orb, Riley was pumping her fist in the air and hollering. Sadness chortled lightly. "It's so beautiful, isn't it?" After being set down by Anger, she gestured it to the others as they gathered around her, their gowns swirling about their ankles in a whirl of shimmering charcoal. For a brief spell they all beheld its beauty, not only in the orb and its brilliance but the memory it contained.

They watched Riley pump her fist in the air again, faintly hearing her cry of triumph. No one gave protest as Joy traced her finger across its surface, bringing it back to when the Superintendent called her name.

Joy rubbed a hand across her eye. "Our baby's all grown up," she murmured. The others all nodded in agreement, their smiles bright and broad.

But soon the orb's luster proved too much for one Emotion's delicate eyes. "You'd think that would have been a new Core Memory, but no, it was actually Dad's speech," said Disgust. At the mention of it, Sadness felt a phantom's hand squeeze her heart in a death-grip. But to hear it from Disgust, despite seeing what happened earlier...

Sadness couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. But she's not one to brush this off like Joy, or be confrontational like Anger. It just wasn't in her nature. So Sadness simply bit her lip and looked up from the memory with everybody else, and found Disgust already strolling over to the Core Memory Capsule, twirling a green lock of hair around her finger.

"Oh boy, yeah, let's see the new Core Memory!" said Joy. She and the others followed Disgust to the center of the room. Sadness lagged noticeably behind.

"Can't believe Dad decided to actually tear up in front of everybody," sighed the green Emotion. "I mean he's great and all, but he's a grown man for Heaven's sake. It's not like Riley's going off to war (and thank God for that)."

Joy hopped over to the other side from where the capsule rose, hands clasped in front of her. "I think it was sweet," she said. Disgust only huffed with a roll of her eyes.

Sadness frowned; Disgust has been rather snippy all evening. While her attitude wasn't fairly different than usual, today one would think she'd tone it down a little. Even Anger was smiling a lot, and the thought of that made Sadness smile too, in spite of the storm cloud rumbling in the back of her mind. Today was such a good day for him, she thought, her heart rising. He deserves it.

If Sadness weren't so happy for Riley and Anger, oh boy, she just knew she could probably muster up a scowl! But even so her face just slunk into its typical sad-softness as Disgust pulled the Core Memory Capsule up from the floor, where it housed several marbles glowing a myriad of two or even three colors. She gestured to the newest addition: a swirl of gold and blue that rivaled 'Starry Night' in its beauty. Within its glass chassis, Dad was silently mouthing a speech with a raised glass of wine in hand to the rest of the table.

"That other Core Memory was around for a long time," said Fear. "You think it got sent to Long Term Memory?"

"Yes." Immediately Sadness regretted that; everybody turned to her, giving the teardrop curious and disconcerted looks. Oh, why did I have to blurt that out really quickly? "Well, they all do," Sadness answered timidly, looking at them like it were totally obvious and that they have no reason to be looking at her like that. "Even the first set of Core Memories have all made it to Long Term."

Disgust shrugged. "Eh, they're probably all in the Memory Dump by now."

A phantom spear stabbed Sadness in the gut. "Y-Yeah." She found herself actually shooting the green Emotion disgusted looks, or - at least - as disgusted as Sadness could manage; she could only muster looks of disappointment... not that it mattered - her target didn't feel any of them hit. You saw how I reacted, thought Sadness, remembering Disgust's brief flash of sympathy for her friend when the memory was replaced. Why are you bringing this up?

Joy went down on her knees, so she was eye-level with the new Memory. She pressed her face to its glass, akin to a child at an aquarium. "Pretty neat how they can just replace old Core Memories to keep charging the same Island of Personality. They're like batteries!"

Disgust folded her arms, gazing out towards Family Island. "Sure is," she drawled.

That reaction made Sadness frown; she had her suspicions before, but now it seemed clear that something was irritating Disgust today. She briefly considered leaving the prissy Emotion to her own problems, but the brief flash of guilt Sadness felt at even tossing the idea around in her head made her shun the notion completely. I'll have to talk to her at some point tonight, hopefully at or after the party.

Joy rolled the Core Memories along their track, looking at all the different colors and combinations from each with wonder. When she returned to the newest addition, Joy turned her gaze to Disgust, giving her a wry smile. "We gotta get you to make another Core Memory sometime, Disgust. I don't know how, but we will!"

Disgust shrugged, appearing indifferent. "Eh, it doesn't really matter. Besides, what's Riley going to be so disgusted by that it becomes a Core Memory? She's a big girl now, after all."

Joy giggled. "You're right," she said, then her eyes brightened. "Hey, maybe if she meets a giant spider in the woods, and the experience makes her become some kind of exterminator..."

Disgust held up a hand, rolling her eyes. "Ugh, Joy, please," she snapped rudely. "That's horrible, not to mention literally impossible. Come on, a giant SPIDER? That's the stuff of children's novels."

Joy shrugged, smiling good-naturedly. "Hey, it could happen! Never say never, Disgust!"

"It'll never happen, Joy. Grow up." Disgust gave her a hard look, which didn't seem to phase Joy in the slightest and she knew it. She gave up immediately. "Come on, gang," she said, walking up the ramp. "Let's get ready for the party. It's time to be fabulous." She finished with a flick of her hair.

Joy hopped up to her feet, smiling broadly. "She's right, everybody! We're on a schedule, our 'Train of Thought' leaves in an hour!"

The five Emotions ascended the ramp to their living complex and strolled down the hallway, most of them chatting in anticipation of the coming night. One by one they each slipped into their color-coded doors, until it was just Sadness in front of her blue door.

Her lonely blue door.

Sadness shivered and pushed through, making sure to lock it behind her. Then she turned and shrugged out of her graduation outfit, her sweater and sweatpants still worn underneath.

Her room was as immaculate as it has always been: bed made, sleeping gown folded at the end, nightstand organized with a box of tissues on one side of the lamp and her glasses' case on the other, set beside a glass of water to drink before she went to sleep, the shelves of holo-books made from every novella and picture book Riley had ever read were shelved by category and in alphabetical order. The one irritant in the room was the wastebasket in the corner piled high with crumpled up tissues.

But it was always like that.

Everything was blue. She liked it - it reminded her of crying (and she liked that, too; it was a simple call for help that led to happiness, which was always better than bottling something up and feeling miserable).

And everything was blue. Sadness liked it - it reminded her of crying, and she liked that, too; it was a simple call for help that led to happiness, which was always better than bottling something up and being miserable. Crying was pure, it was honest. It helped slow things down and gain some perspective on life's problems.

This was something Sadness desperately needed at the moment. I need to cry, she told herself. I need a good cry to think about this.

As she walked by it, Sadness plucked a tissue from the box on her nightstand. Tears gathered in her eyes and blurred her vision when she blinked. With a second bat of her eyes, they slid down her rounded cheeks. Sadness sniffled, quietly relishing in the sharp sound echo in the stillness of her room. She lifted her glasses and dabbed the tissue on each eye.

Sadness wasted no time in mentally asking herself, "What's bothering me?"

Dad's speech flooded her mind, his words echoed in her ears.

A sob shuddered Sadness's body. That speech was so beautiful, she thought. Too beautiful. Another sob burst from her lips. She gasped on a third, then wiped her eyes like clockwork.

The beauty of Dad's words soon lost their dazzle though, as Sadness's reflections on the meaning behind them shrouded and hugged her like a dark cloak.

"We're always growing up," he said. "Even after we think we've settled down, found a balance in life, a job and a family, our lives are still growing and changing with every new experience. Our tastes may change, our personalities may change, what we dislike could be our favorite thing in the world next year while our current is looked back on with disgust. We make new friends while losing old ones, distant relatives could be just that, a name and nothing more. But we'll never forget who we used to be, our memories, those are what stay with us forever, no matter how hard we try to forget. Even if, say, twenty years from now, my little girl is a completely different woman from the one sitting with us, she'll always be the same to me, she'll always be my monkey, my little girl."

Sadness wept openly now, sobs echoing harshly in her palms. From the hard truth of his words or the honest, somber tone he spoke with, she didn't know which hurt the most. He's right, she thought. We always thought things would stay the same, but we learned with the move that people change all the time. Even Riley.

Even friends. Sadness bit down on her fist to keep from sobbing too loudly; she didn't want Fear next door to hear, even though she has cried louder than this and never received a single visit from any of her friends.

My friends, she echoed.

"We make new friends while losing old ones," Dad had said.

This wasn't a new lesson for Riley though; all throughout high school her friends faded in and out, and she knew that some of them she might never see again after today. This was a lesson of life that Riley learned the hard way, when they moved to San Francisco. It's still so depressing, thought Sadness, sniffling. "Because why would you just throw away years of friendship just like that!?"

She clamped her mouth shut, though tears still poured silently down her cheeks, around her hands. I just yelled that out loud. She listened tensely for any signs of footsteps approaching her door, the creak of the hall outside or the light dancing in the crack beneath her door. But the hall was silent and the light still, and so Sadness collapsed into another bout of weeping into her tissue.

What bothered Sadness the most was when Riley saw an old friend she always talked to a year ago, had the same class as her, and yet they would never speak a word to each other all year, even though they saw one another every single day! It was like they changed and grew up into different people or something.

What if we're like that? Sadness thought. Her heart tightened. What if we all grow up at some point and just stopped liking each other? Of course work will always keep the Emotions together, but what if their contact ends there? What if everybody gains interests of their own, and then chooses to keep interaction to a minimum? Immediately Sadness thought of one of those stuffy cubicle jobs where nobody talks to each other and they're all miserable and depressed. Was this the future that is potentially awaiting them?

The fear made Sadness bawl aloud, and shudder with every gasping breath after. She didn't want that future, she just got everybody to like her and accept her and be her friend. Now they're all going to start growing up and splitting apart?

Would we even be real about it? she wondered. She imagined Fear making some excuse, like work got more important as Riley became an adult. Would Joy make an effort to keep us together? Will Anger just shove his face into a newspaper, not saying a word to anybody? Who would be the one to admit that we're not compatible anymore?

It was another blow to lose their first, her first, mixed Core Memory. Remembering it being shot out of Headquarters and into some random place in Long Term Memory brought forth another round of sobs. Sadness loved that memory like Joy loved her first ones, and though the pessimist in her knew it would one day be gone, and even fade, to actually see it happen made Sadness feel like she lost something inside. It was also the cornerstone of her and Joy's friendship. It was the moment that she finally became accepted by Joy, it was when Riley came to terms with the move, all because of her, and together they made something special that symbolized Riley's growth and encompassed this new understanding.

Joy would be telling Sadness that it's just a memory, and that they'll always have it on hand if she wants to Recall it. But to Sadness, Dad's speech was like an omen by replacing that mixed Core Memory.

"We make new friends while replacing old ones," he said.

But I don't have new friends to make, thought Sadness. And we might not be friends forever.

Sadness breathed in deep, shutting her eyes, and exhaled, long, slow, and shuddering. She looked down at the crumpled tissue in her little hands, then licked a bit of it and dabbed the tear tracks sticking to her cheeks. She sighed again, glancing at her slippered feet.

I'm going to try, she told herself. I'm Sadness, I bring family together. That's my job, that's what I do for Riley and I WILL do for us. I promise. To whom, she did not know. But her mind promised, even though her heart still was weighed heavy and doubtful.

Sadness looked over to her right; a turquoise sequin dress, belt, and teardrop-shaped hairclip was lain out across her bed. Looking at it, her heart rose ever so slightly. Shyly, warmly, for the hundredth time, Sadness smiled.Tonight is supposed to be fun, she thought. I'll try not to bring everybody down. I'm going to keep everybody together, or cry trying.