Samurai
Gi, Yu, Jin, Rei, Makoto, Meiyo, Chugi-these are the seven virtues of the samurai's honor code. When the time comes to take to the road again, an author will have to look for them all. One-sided LeoxOC
Lesson One:
Rectitude
~*~0~*~
You find yourself falling down
Your hopes in the sky
But your heart's like grape gum on the ground
And you try to find yourself
In the abstractions of religion
And the cruelty of yourself.
For anyone who just so happened to wake up contemplating whether bathrooms in the South are colder than the ones in the North, Lauren Hagenmeyer will gladly tell you that you are correct: They are. The air conditioning in her building had been over-amplified, but it certainly was better than the alternative of having no AC at all, and she could always put on a hoodie, or something. The one she was wearing at this moment in time, however, wasn't doing her very much good, however, considering that gooseflesh was still prickling her skin beneath the baggy, comforting material.
She had to reason that her bed looked pretty good right now, but here on the floor she remained, curled up in a small ball, staring at the white linoleum, tracing the cold material with a fingertip.
The recently-turned eighteen year old turned her head after a moment of contemplating the tiles, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Ugh. Her eyes were red, and they stared dully back at her. Her hair was still a tangled mess-then again, it was normally so these days, ever since she'd decided to kick the Alice cut and grow it out-and her face was puffy, like a clown's.
A faint smile nearly twitched at the corner of her mouth, and then, she turned her head back to the soft carpet near the small shower stall, and pressed her forehead against it, circling a now cool fingertip in little circles on the polished surface, entertaining ideas of staying there for a few more minutes. At the very least, now that Mina had gone, she didn't have to worry about anyone walking in on her.
Well.
She flopped on her back (Not very sanitary, but she supposed she'd have to mop the floor soon enough anyway), and stared at the white walls and ceiling, hugging her kneecaps against her stomach, wishing over and over again that she had brought her stuffed polar bear to college alongside her. Poaly (She'd been adamant that the A be included when she was a little girl) had been a gift from her grandmother many years ago after she'd visited a sibling in Nome, Alaska. Poaly had had starkly white, shaggy fur, and a bright blue ribbon around his neck that had read ALASKA on it a few times around, and his dark eyes peeped out at you like little saucers behind his nose.
Years and years later, Poaly was not quite as fine as he used to be; his fur had dulled, probably from the number times Lauren had decided to give him a good shampooing, and he smelled like a mixture of strawberries and mothballs. His snout was covered with little marker dots that never did come out, and his ribbon had long since been lost. His dark eyes were hidden underneath his graying, shaggy fur, and you had to part it to see his brown eyes peek out at you. But still, he'd been Lauren's, and she missed him. He'd been a good companion amongst the many teddy bears she'd accumulated in her later years (For whatever reason, people had begun giving her bears as birthday and Christmas gifts around her fifteenth year), and her primary cry buddy on rough days. There was also Felix Felicis, the purple cryfrog, but he was long gone, and Poaly was somewhere in Charleston, or in Chicago. She didn't know which.
She supposed that it didn't really matter, but she missed the reassuring, soft old fur that had belonged to a patient bear that she'd hurled at the wall once or twice out of anger, knowing she would immediately scurry to his side and tell him that she didn't really hate him. Anything to hug would be nice-she'd settle for her black pillow that Aunt Star had given her.
Still numb, Lauren closed her eyes, smiling faintly, scrubbing at her damp face.
What had happened?
What had happened?
Today had been going well enough. Four classes, all relatively simple, though she'd had to run to get to her last one. Breakfast at Einstein's Bagel's, same as usual, with a light jog after English to the library on campus, and she'd curled up with a book after typing out her assignment, and had headed off to Geology, finding her normal seat in the last row of the cold auditorium. She'd read a few more pages of her new book, If God is Love, which was a book explaining some priest in Indiana's idea of redefining the term 'grace' and the idea that hell was an abstract theory.
Speaking of abstract theories, that Freshman kid named Adam had come to sit nearby again, and had started talking of his cheery theories of possible worldwide resources, nanotechnology, and, occasionally, of his few years in Germany. (Pretty much everyone at GSU had been to Germany one point or another; their fathers had been stationed overseas there.) Weird kid, but nice enough, she guessed. They listened to Reichard's lectures, took notes, and he'd given her a hand with a question from her Lab homework. Even though regardless, she still turned in a poor assignment and while she doubted the man would give her any credit (Probably well-deserved) for it, she was still resolved to make the dean's list. That would have seemed altogether improbable for too many years, but she'd made honor roll a couple times last year. She would just need to pull her weight next time, and get help earlier.
Environmental Geology-the lecture portion of the class-had been normal enough, though Adam had also told her that she spoke like a character from 'Schoolhouse Rock….' Something about a song about multiplying with the number 8, or something strange like that. He was a bit boastful about his smarts, but he was still a nice guy, and she was happy to have a seatmate.
Lunch had been normal, too. Okay, maybe that worry had started tightening up her insides again, but that had to be every girl.
While she ate more than enough, however, there was now fear. She'd lost a total of fifty-five pounds after she'd moved in with her sister two years ago, and while she was now at a healthy weight for her age and height (5'11). Don had said so, that one time she'd tried something tremendously stupid and had wound up regretting it for days to come, and he'd found her curled up….
….in a bathroom. Oy, vey. Then, there was that other time she'd gotten scared enough to call Splinter, though at the very least, she'd come to her senses and fled to her bedroom and hid under her covers before the rat arrived. Didn't really need the Hamatos to think she was considering taking up a full time position as a toilet scrubber, or something.
She didn't really think of a day as 'good' or 'bad' so much anymore, not unless they were excessively so, but today had been pleasant enough. There'd been a nice breeze outside, the food was good, the workload modest…
….and then there had been that trip to the library, when she'd started looking for The Shack and had found something disturbing on the shelves that she now wished she'd never picked up.
Then, she'd remembered she had a Geology lab assignment that she did not complete. There were books on the bed. She'd eaten too much that day, and hadn't gone to the pool to swim a few laps. She scarcely did. She'd said something strange at that club meeting she'd checked out, and now probably sounded like a clueless, thoughtless little city girl. She hadn't sent Star a thank-you note for this summer, when that was the very least the woman deserved.
And then, she had gotten tired, and the walk home had been heavy, like the past two at the counselor's. At the very least, it wasn't over something COMPLETELY stupid as the trigger had been last time-a fiction she had followed for two years (Very long one) had come to a bitter end, and it had saddened her immensely.
She'd wandered around campus for a while, not wanting to walk, but the idea of sitting down was worse. She'd eaten dinner-splurged on dessert-and had walked the stairs to the third floor after greeting Barak and Nugget (Don't ask), two strange boys who were always in the lobby of her building complex, playing video games.
And once again, she'd found the bathroom again, listening to Jewel music overhead.
And you wake up to realize
Your standard of living somehow got stuck on survive
And thus, she had slowly broken down into tears again.
Why, it was bewildering, when breathing and living and doing had been all too SIMPLE for too many years. Focus on the good rather than the unfortunate, and you find that there is too much to do for you to stay in bed. There are things to write, places to find, things to prepare for, and all the nothingness that came with reading or doodling or walking or doing all the occasional, essential nothing in between.
Now, it was all too easy for her to start tearing up, and the awful feelings of depression and helplessness to start creeping on her. Then came the grief, then the failed attempts to sob, then the self-disgust, then the fear, then the weariness, and then the early bedtime, which usually wound up with her staring out the window for a number of hours at the local Laundrum cafeteria, which would sometimes be lit, and people would be idly walking in for a snack around eight, and sometimes not.
If she didn't have to think about sleeping, it was normally quick, light, and easy. If she did, however, then came in insomnia, and cue the fact that she was too tired to fall asleep. At the very least, she had a computer, so there was usually a friend from Illinois or a penfriend to drop a quick note to before she headed downstairs, and started wandering. Sometimes, she ran into Jasmine, which was lovely, because then, there wasn't much to think about. And crawling into bed seemed that much easier.
When you're standing in deep water
And you're bailing yourself out with a straw
And when you're drowning in deep water
And you wake up making love to a wall
At least this wasn't Kelly Clarkson's Because of You. If that wasn't a tear jerker, she didn't know what was, though Forrest Gump and The Iron Giant might possibly be the exception. She snorted faintly, and made a mental note to look for the latter film sometime, perhaps for rent. She'd only (regrettably) seen it last month, and had loved it immediately.
Well, at the very least, you can call Lauren Hagenmeyer a girl who is very easily distracted.
Lauren grabbed a tissue, and sat up against the wall, leaning her chin atop her knees, and glanced at the small, rectangular bulge in her pocket, uncertain.
Therapy wouldn't be until two next week, and while last time, she'd left feeling a bit better, albeit very tired, the first session had left her feeling a horror inside for several days.
Now, it just hurt. And she was whining. She got on her own nerves quite a lot, but now, more so than usual. Why, she didn't know. These spells were usually triggered by the smallest, most inconsequential thing, and suddenly, she was tired, and wanted to cry, but still could not. She hadn't in years.
Did she call for help? The last time she'd had a serious crisis, she'd left a desperate plea on her online blog, but she was always feeling better in a matter of hours. Besides, THAT was an entirely different ballpark altogether, and she'd briefly considered doing something terrible. That qualified for a turtle emergency. This however, would probably pass soon, and there was no reason to bug the boys so late at night. Better not to be the girl who cried turtle. Chances are, it wouldn't do anything, anyways-they were the friggin' TMNT. They were busy. Julia was busy fighting for their brother's life, and Ashley had a baby, now. Starry was a professor at AASU, and scarcely got enough time to herself as it was, what with the house being put on the market in the midst of the divorce.
But now, Lauren didn't know what to do, and while she knew she'd had to dry up sooner or later-there was swim class tomorrow, and she hadn't studied any of her new material yet. What kind of sicko do you have to be to assign a textbook with online quizzes for a gym class, anyway.
Lauren tugged out her phone, feeling hopeful and hopeless, such as when you make a call but halfway hope that they don't pick up, and you can cop out without being a complete coward. At least you tried.
After a few seconds, Lauren switched the little device on. Maybe just a message. That was all-she'd send a message, ask them how they were doing. It was the least she could do-Mikey had told her to follow up after last Tuesday's fiasco.
Lauren went to her contacts, and found the five boys, pausing as she did so, finger raised over the button.
Leo? Not a chance. It'd been humiliating enough the first time something monumental had changed two years ago. Then, there was two months ago. And that mess at graduation. Nope. Not happening.
Splinter? No. Couldn't face him either-he'd most likely come, but there still was the guilt over calling him out and then hiding away. Let him meditate.
Raph would probably be the best option, considering what she needed right now was a good smack, and the turtle was generously liberal in his offer to give her one whenever she needed it.
Suddenly, her phone dinged, and she switched out curiously to see who had messaged her. To her surprise, it was neither Aunt Star, nor sibling.
Splinter's not feeling so hot right now, but he asked at least one of us to go. On my way. -Don
Lauren's mouth dropped, but noise came out of it. Anxious, she'd tried sending a message in turn, but no dice; he either had no signal, or he'd turned off his phone.
And with that, she heard someone laughing, or trying to sob. Might've been both.
Well it's these little times that help to remind
It's nothing without love, love, love.
It's nothing without love.