Author's Note: Wrote this last night, whilst sitting in my bed after being kicked out of my living room when my relatives were staying. It's inner perspective. Hope you enjoy it… I think it kinda sucks, but what're you gonna do?
Where the hell did I put my pants? I should probably heed Aunt Polly's advice about tidying my room… might make it easier to find things. Okay… might isn't the case. I know it would help, but I've just put it off so long that… I mean, god, look at this place! How do I manage to find clean clothes every day?
Oh yeah… that's right; I've been wearing the same shirt for two days now. Wait… maybe that was why Mina was looking at me funny last night.
Ugh… dammit, where did I leave them? There are only so many places. Unless… no, Skinner wouldn't do that… would he? I hope not… who knows what I left in my pockets?
Jeez, I remember the kind of junk I used to stuff in my pockets. I don't even want to think about the kind of crap Aunt Polly had to dig out of my pants. Suddenly I feel guilty.
… If only she were here now. She'd probably be able to find them for me at the very least. God knows I need help for more than just that at the moment anyway. I don't really want to think about it, but what else do you normally do when you're hunting through books and… ugh, how long has that been there? Note to self: don't eat in cabin.
I must have sighed about seventeen times since I woke up. Jesus… I didn't count, did I?
What time is it anyway?
Ow… I shouldn't leave boots around like that. Learning that the hard way. Damn… it's really six in the morning?
Stupid nightmares. Why can't they just… leave me alone?
I mean… they deserved it… right? Didn't they?
For crying out loud. I shouldn't remember details about their faces like this. It's scary. If I saw nothing but their eyes, they still burn into me while I sleep. I'm dreaming of being little again, playing with Huck, Joe and Ben… and they're following me… lurking and looming in the shadows. They're watching me.
Listen to yourself, Sawyer… you need therapy.
No… I know what I need. I need my goddamn pants!
Who am I kidding? Pants won't stop nightmares or guilt, will they? But talking to someone probably will. But that's not going to happen 'til I find them!
God, what would happen if someone came in right now? Oh jeez… what if it was Mina?
Why do I only have two pairs? Dammit!
Ugh… why did M have to have such vivid eyes? I keep remembering them… how blue they were. So cold and piercing, like when…
No… not thinking about that.
… Yes I am. Maybe I need to. Maybe it would help.
Dammit, Huck. Not that I'm not grateful, but… why'd he have to do that? Am I really worth it? I mean… I'm not too smart, am I? I can fire a gun, yes, but I don't always hit the target. I'm rash and careless. I can be rude and thoughtless… even when I don't mean to be. I'm presumptuous too. I've been underhanded and even downright cruel. Just look at Becky Thatcher. I'm childish and irresponsible; this room is perfect evidence of that, right?
And I'm a murderer…
I can lie to myself… I can be a liar… a damn good one too. But… I'm a killer. I've lost count. If I wasn't so terrified in the dreams or nightmares, I'd count the different faces. There are so many. They had families… they had friends and lovers. Just look at what I've done. God… what have I done?
How did this happen? How… how did Tom Sawyer turn into a killer for the American Secret Service?
Okay, yeah, so maybe they 'deserved' it. Maybe they were the 'enemy', but… that doesn't change the fact that I pulled the trigger.
And no, I didn't pull the trigger for Aunt Polly, Huck or Quatermain, but… that's all my fault too.
I worried and fretted poor, dear Aunt Polly into her grave. Heart attack.
It was either me or him… and he sacrificed his life for me. Huck took the bullet from the Fantom.
I was too careless to realise the ambush, and Quatermain saved me when I was held at knifepoint… used against him. M stabbed him in the back.
I'm a killer.
Wow… not even a scrap a doubt.
That's… scary? Daunting? Disappointing? Yes, yes and yes.
Where did I go wrong? On that dotted line, that's where. God dammit, Tom Sawyer, this is not a game!
But I know that… with all of my heart. People didn't really die in those games.
I wish this was a game. At least then I could easily back down and stop playing. But then again… what's stopping me now? Do they need me? The perky, optimistic American child? Do they? I'd ask them if I could but…
Great… now I'm a coward as well.
Am I really falling to pieces?
What was I doing? I can't remember.
I'd go back to bed if I even thought it was remotely possible I could sleep. Yeah, right… that ain't gonna happen.
Do I really need a haircut? Now that was random. This has got to be a personal record for thought. It's not something I'm known for, after all. I mean… I've been doing this for… half an hour?
… I need a journal.
What was I – pants! Pants are good… everybody needs pants.
Maybe I can take a walk or something. Are we surfaced? Maybe I can get some fresh air. That should help.
Okay, so… which one? Skinner, Nemo, Jekyll or Mina?
Skinner is – mentally, at least – close to my age, and I've always communicated with him easier. Sounds weird, but kinda like the brother Sid could have been. No… I've troubled Skinner enough, after he saved my life in Mongolia.
Nemo is compassionate, and wise, right? He's got experience and… I don't know what else, but if I'd had someone like him around when I was growing up… he would have made a great teacher. No… he's too stoic.
Jekyll is kind and sympathetic. I mean, he has to be, right? He's a doctor. He's kinda like that uncle who comes to visit and wants to hear all about what you've been doing. But… with Hyde… he wouldn't be able to focus. Damn.
I… I don't know what Mina represents. Not a teacher, or sister, and definitely not a mother. So… what is she?
She's beautiful, intelligent, graceful, cautious and… Mina. She's Mina. She'll understand. She has to. I don't have any other choice. Okay… so, Mina it is.
Will she be awake now? Well, it's nearly seven; I should think she probably would be. Seems like she would be.
Well, I'm not gonna find out by sitting on my ass, am I… okay, technically, stumbling around my cabin, but, whatever.
Ah! Pants! Finally! I knew they were here somewhere.
Okay, now I just need to pull these on without falling over and breaking something, and I'm all set.
Right… I'm ready. I don't need anything else, do I?
… I just remembered the strangest thing, just going out the door, of all things. I don't remember who said it, or where I read it, but… weird. Seems fitting.
'To live with fear, is a life half-lived'…