Chapter 2
1400 to 1600 cm³, a weight of 1,4 to 1,6 kg. A construction of synapses, neurons, axons, dendrites. Grey matter. The controlling-station of the human mind, body function and "soul". You might know what I am talking about. The human brain, such a simple yet amazing structure once you look at it. A disturbing view in tiny jars filled with Formaldehyde; swimming, almost floating agonizingly slow with its consistence of soft goo. A warning. A mockery. However. It looks simple, and still – isn't it amazing what that bit of "goo" is capable of?
The human learns all life long, the most in its first years of existence. Perception. Realisation. Training your five senses; Optics, Tactile sense, Acusthesia, Olfactus and Gustus. Balance. Behaviour. All of it depends on the brain, on its functions and abilities to develop, to learn. People learn from mistakes, they adjust to situations. However; how everyone alters and learns from consequences is an individual trait.
People say that babies are already born with their own defined character. I don't think so. Not at all. A newborn is like a blank sheet of paper. Experiences act as writing tool, scribbling impressions onto the empty document in a language far too abstract for us to understand.
I should know best. Life formed me, created me. You dare to complain? None is born good or evil. Life is what makes you "good". Parents make you choose the "right" path; well, whatever they claim to be right. Wrong behaviour will be punished, not tolerated. They will shape you until they are proud of their creation. And while you walk, all formed and designed by your environment's imagination, you are still empty, looking for something like a sense, a purpose for your existence. Have you found out already? What is your purpose?
Well... mine is to strive for better. You are just sheep. Not in the common sense of course. But look closer. You humans act like them. You never stray around on your own, no. You prefer to stick to the herd, wearing the same pelt as everybody else. Don't stay out of the masses. Be invisible. Don't be yourself, be somebody else. Smile if you feel like crying. Cheer and celebrate although you rather want to roam and roar. That is what sheep do, next to grazing aka gulping down fast-food in front of your TVs.
But not me. I am the beast.
Many humans tried to shape me. Many have punished me. But I had a mind on my own ever since. I don't even remember when I started to exist, when I was born. It was too long ago. But it was me who tore the belt when it promised harm once more. I stood up and showed them my borders. I am the one watching over you, my little lost lambs.
I can turn you into a wolf, you know?
You will understand soon. You are the one equipped with a heart after all.
Heart.
Isn't it a fascinating organ? It does not matter that a human hand is the most complicated set of bones, 27 to be exact.
-Carpal bones, proximal; Os scaphoideum. Os lunatum. Os triquetrum and Os pisiforme.
-Carpal bones, distal; Os trapezium. Os trapezideum. Os capitatum and Os hamatum.
-Metacarpal bones; Os metacarpale primum, secundum, tertium, quartum, quintum.
And of course, Ossa digitorum manus. But I am sure that you already lost focus by figuring out the carpal bones, so I show mercy and spare you with details. Back to the important thing. The human heart...
Once, it was the heart being the centre of the human mind and soul. Medical Scientists, of course. They would know better. The heart is only a muscle without feelings, and what a muscle it is. Only as big as an adult's clenched fist, but capable of so much power. It is that underrated engine that really keeps us going. On top of that, a mystery to all of us. What does it take to start the machinery? What makes it pump all live long and why does it start beating, just like that?
A medic could give you all the answers, while I ask the questions from the philosophical point of view. Isn't a heart just like a perpetuum mobile? Always moving on its own without the spark that causes the motion? Not quite. One day it stops beating. Some hearts work longer, some don't. Maybe because humans don't care about their health, smoking, drinking and eating uninhibitedly while planting their fat asses into office seats every day.
Crapulence. Society's answer to everything. Where you and I come from, people had to do something for their living. And by that, I don't mean office-work with a beer and an occasional fuck at night, let alone if they pay for it or not. But really, what does it matter if it is a prostitute or their "partner"? Mankind pays for both.
Even the partner, wife or husband, is a prostitute. You get something if you do something. Yes ladies, I mean you. Spread your legs, let him in, expect a little shitty pair of earrings or, for the spoiled kind, a short trip? Pelts? A car maybe? For the less privileged, attention before he rolls to the side and snores all night which causes you to walk into the kitchen and find comfort in a glass of wine. I have seen all of it. And I ended so many of their miserable little lives already. Still, it's not enough.
It NEVER is enough.
Humans don't know how well they are doing here. Complaining about the smallest things while they literally bask in their materialism like pigs in dirt. Yes. It seems to be the fitting allegory to a race that is filled to the brim with a double-sided moral. They hurt while they cry if they get hurt themselves. They punish people for doing the wrong things but do exactly the same behind closed curtains! I am so sick of your sanctimoniousness.
But don't worry.
The wolf is on his way.~ ~ ~~Hey Miss Murder can I
make beauty stay if I take my life~
Visions blurred as Claire lifted her head, forcing herself to open her eyes wearily. Her limbs felt numb as the woman shifted on the couch, she groaned in great discomfort while the cell phone rang and buzzed on the glass table, the raw music of AFI made its way into her ears; the vibrations sounded shallow and unreal against the underground the device was placed on. Who the hell was calling since she didn't expect anyone? Any sense of time and space was wiped away so she could only guess that it must have been around evening already.
Ruffling her hair the young woman managed to force herself into a sitting position; champagne-coloured strands hid her facial features while she drowsily ran her fingers through messy hair. They felt oily and gross- a shower would be highly appreciated later. But... oh. Phone. She watched it with a diffuse expression, almost impassively; the vibrations caused the device to move on its own, closer to the table's edge where it dropped. Claire's reaction was surprisingly swift when she finally woke from her paralysis, reaching out and catching the phone mid-air. A glance onto the display revealed who was calling and she knitted her finely curved eyebrows in displeasure. Serah, her youngest sister. What did she want?
Slide to unlock. Her thumb brushed over the front to answer the call.
"Hey Claire."
A moment of awkward silence. It had been a while since their last decent dialogue.
"... Hey." she answered dryly and didn't bother stifling the yawn that followed next. The woman felt as if a tank had parked on her body during sleep and by the gods, she just loved to show that Serah's call wasn't something she looked forward to.
Now it was her sibling's time to pause.
"Did I wake you?"
A snort.
"Oh of course not," Claire murmured and rubbed her forehead, shifting into an upright position with a tiny snarl, "I just waited all day long for someone to call me since I have no life...who needs sleep anyway."
"So I woke you up."
Congratulations, little-Miss-Obvious.
"...Pretty much so."
"Sorry, I didn't know you were asleep. Usually you are awake around five."
Claire arched a brow and rubbed her nose bridge. It was only five? God, she wanted to sleep two more hours! This was going to be a long night at the club without decent rest.
"Well, obviously I planned on sleeping longer for my shift tonight!"
She licked her lips and could have sworn to hear Serah gulping at the other end of the line. Good job, make her feel guilty. Maybe she would hang up.
"Shift? Oh dear, how silly of me!"
The older sibling groaned and rested her head against the backrest of the couch, idly staring at the cigarettes that almost sung to her with the tempting voice of a siren. She just couldn't resist and activated the speakers of her phone to reach out for the package; pulling a cigarette out of the case and sticking it between her lips the woman snatched the lighter. The silent click promised a certain ease she was looking forward to.
"I told you that I got a new job, Serah."
Claire inhaled and lowered her lids, slouching back into the couch with a sound of joy. What pills couldn't fix, nicotine was able to pull off easily.
"I forgot. Can't keep everything in my head sis... I have my duties too", Serah paused and listened to the clicking sound in the background, followed by an exhaling sound. "Wait a minute, are you smoking again?"
Duties, huh? Shaking her head and staring at the ceiling the oldest sibling rolled her eyes. It was a duty that could have been easily avoided. Mind stuff like... condoms? Anyway, the result was there now. Three, almost four years old, blonde with greyish lavender coloured eyes (possibly the weirdest shade she could remember) and blessed with a VERY curious nature. Gabriel. Claire couldn't help it but trying to avoid contact with the boy. He looked too much like a copy of her dorky brother-in-law, Snow. Thank the gods he kid didn't inherit his intelligence but the brain of a Farron; the charme however...
STILL. She didn't like children. It wouldn't change even if children would be more adorable than kittens, puppies and BLEEEEH.
Instead she watched the bluish fume floating into the air, creating bizarre patterns and lines like an abstracted snake or dragon, seeking its way through the halfway opened window. This seemed to be the most comforting thing about smoking though- the smoke itself. She exhaled her sorrows and manifested them into a toxic cloud, twirling and snaking upwards to nowhere. Quite a deep thought for this time of the day wasn't it?
"So what?" she snapped eventually.
"I don't like that tone Claire. I know you are still upset but you can't be angry at me forever..."
Oh, did Serah think she was mad? Well, she was. Not about the topic she was implying though. Anyway... that story was way too old and ridiculous to talk about right now, Claire rather dropped it for herself. But she could Serah make believe and totally play the game. She was one hell of a gambler these days.
"Well..." she drew at her cigarette once more and exhaled, this time noisily and with the purpose of pure provocation, "it doesn't mean I can't try, right?"
A low sigh broke the silence between the sisters. Claire moved closer to the table, tipping the ashes off the cigarette she rolled her eyes. Maybe she just went too far with her last response. But it wasn't as if she felt like apologizing. The woman wasn't the type who took things back, no matter what.
"What do you want? You didn't only intend to say hi and tell me how to live my life, did you?"
"Claire!"
She rolled her eyes.
"WHAT? If you called me for small-talk only, you better hang up right away! I need to get ready!"
The woman could imagine her younger sister shake with that trembling bottom lip and the rage crawling up her system. Serah probably didn't deserve such treatment. But the oldest Farron couldn't help it. She was angry, sleepy and felt as if she had a hangover. As a decent plus, the pain was gone – only the gods would know for how long though.
Silence. Would she hang up?
"You don't have to treat me like dirt. We are sisters after all, in case you've forgotten."
The answer came eventually and even if it was silent and soft-spoken with that slight tremor in her voice, it left a bitter and deep impact. Claire hissed and tossed the lighter onto the table.
"For fuck's sake, Serah! Don't make a damn drama out of it! You called, so I assume you want something! And if you don't then stop wasting my time!"
Clenching her fists the woman forced herself to calm down; hastily she drew on her cigarette and waited for the relaxation to take over once more. This time it took longer than usual, like the answer on the other line.
"I'm waiting."
Patience was running short.
"Uh... "
Serah obviously didn't know how to start. Claire assumed that it had to be a topic she wouldn't be fond of in the beginning; otherwise her sister would have simply talked ahead.
"The thing is..."
"Serah. I don't have all day."
She could hear Gabriel and Snow in the background. Her facial features hardened and the oldest sibling seemed glad that her sister wasn't a fan of video calls.
"Well... a friend of mine asked me if you are still... single. So I said you are since you prefer fleet acquaintances, correct me if I'm wrong... and..."
Claire lifted her brows. What the hell was going to come now?
"And?" She pressured Serah to go on, her eyes narrowed to mere slits; the pit of her stomach started to hurt in a really unpleasant way. The woman could imagine what would happen next.
"Eh. She would like to meet you... if that's OK with you."
"... Really now."
"But she is nice! I bet you two would have a nice evening."
The woman could not believe it. She couldn't fucking believe it. Rushing from the couch she got on her feet in an instant, the soles slightly irritated by the cold laminate flooring.
"It's enough that you keep interfering into my love life, but Serah, what the fucking hell? Don't you ever get tired of playing Cupid for people without even knowing that the fuck they want?" she barked into the phone, stalking back and forth like a triggered animal. The level of rage grew within her mind and if her sister would have stood in front of her... she better prayed for mercy.
Serah gasped on the other line and this time the poisoned arrow hit its target.
"Then give her at least a chance, Claire!"
Claire scoffed.
"A. Chance. A CHANCE. Are you kidding me? Am I not even allowed to look around and pick up who I want?"
Something scrambled in the background; the oldest Farron couldn't tell what exactly it was. She only noticed that most of her cigarette was gone, so she lighted a new one.
"Of course you are Claire! It's... it's just... what is it you even want? You pick up women every night as far as I can tell! And every time it is a different one! This... this is wrong. You need someone constantly in your life."
Serah's voice sounded low again, almost like a whisper. Was she really that concerned? It seemed like that.
"ONLY because YOU are married and have a kid you think I want to do the same? Don't shit me. I want my freedom and not someone being overly attached to me 24/7!"
"But you spent almost 24 hours a day with Fa-"
"DON'T GET ME STARTED!"
This time, Claire yelled and slammed a hand against the wall to express her anger. She made her point clear that this topic was over for her, that she didn't want to talk about that issue any moment longer again. There was a long period of silence between both of them. Serah probably didn't see the outburst coming. Well, she should have. The youngest Farron carried most of the blame; and pretending that she wasn't guilty at all made things between both only worse.
"I... I'm sorry..."
The older sibling gritted her teeth.
"You better be sorry, Serah. You better be..."
"Claire?"
God, was she crying right now? Serah's voice sounded so choked and under forced control. No. Claire wasn't supposed to let it go to her head. Instead she shuffled to the mirror hanging on the wall, examining herself. Fuck, did she look terrible. That obviously took her more than one shower to make the woman look presentable.
"... What?"
"... I know this – isn't the right moment to... but... would you mind her coming to the club you work at?"
That girl had guts. Well... a typical Farron. That was one thing they had in common after all.
"Who is SHE anyway?"
"Eh... Lebreau. You know her."
Le-breau. Ruffling her hair, Claire remembered that black haired girl in TERROR. Hell, no! If she was as annoying as in their school time...
"Are you serious? You can't be serious. No. That must be some fucking tasteless joke."
"Dead-serious."
Hastily the woman checked the living room for a hair tie to tame the mess on her head in decent manner. Taking it between her teeth her hands formed a somewhat chaotic ponytail, hissing loudly to express her anger through the phone.
"I thought she couldn't stand me! Remember her words whenever she saw me? Dipshit dyke? What's with that crap all of a sudden?"
"Would you mind? Stop swearing all the time! It's rude!"
"Tch. Like hell I'd do."
"Damn it Claire! That was almost a decade ago! Lebreau's bisexual, just to let you know. She just wasn't sure about it when we were at school."
Serah's response only earned a snort and short laugh of derision.
"Oooooh~ I didn't know that you can change your orientation like hair extensions all of a sudden. What is this bullshit? Am I a toy? A guinea pig? What the hell are you thinking?"
"No need to get sarcastic here. You used to sleep with men too."
Claire heard the typical sigh of resignation coming from her sister. This time, she would have won, right?
"THAT was something different Serah. Don't even think about guilt-tripping me."
"Alright, alright. I'll shut up now! But you will talk to her tonight!"
Fixing the ponytail the older sister rolled her eyes, pretty sure that they would get stuck like this one day. She was so fed up and decided to shoot the bullet right into her sibling's face.
"Yeah, yeah, talk to her. Got it. Now get off the line, I need to shower and have some phone sex later."
"WHAT?"
She rushed over to the table and grabbed the phone to end the call with a defiant swipe and a snarl that would have put any feral creature to shame. Tossing the device onto the couch the woman hissed, scratching the back of her head in annoyance. Great. Just great. There went her plans of inviting the cute waitress of the club for a drink and get more private. Now she just had to deal with an annoying ex-cheerleader bitch that still roamed around in Serah's circle of friends. Life hated her, right?
"Ugh. I wouldn't need to get laid at all," she murmured to herself while she strutted towards the bathroom and huffed through her nostrils, "life surely loves to fuck me every day."
She slammed the door shut and peeled herself out of her clothes, revealing smooth and pale skin bit by bit. Claire took her time to undress as steel-blue eyes lingered on the mirror's reflection, absorbing everything that caught her attention. For instance, the bleached out scar at her chest. Even with crossed arms she knew it was there. She didn't want to look at it, but it wouldn't help. The wound would not go away, remaining as silent reminder – almost mocking her. Slowly the woman removed a hand, fingertips slid over the pale mark in coy, reverential fashion; she shuddered, watching the twin staring back at her in the solitude of her bathroom.
Images haunted her mind.
The darkness. The muffled cry as someone covered her mouth. Claire could still smell the scent of the leather glove, the musky sweat which seemed so familiar yet threatening. There was no spoken word, no face. Things happened so fast – she didn't even experience the pain which should have followed soon after the sharp sting that broke her skin, the scraping metal hitting and drilling itself into her sternum with brutal force. The disturbing scent of blood that made her feel dizzy and helpless.
Opening her eyes widely, the woman's breath went shallow and rapid. There was no more darkness, only the dazzling light from the ceiling. No musky smell, no leather. She was here. Alone. In the bathroom which seemed so cold and sterile in its bright white. It reminded her of a hospital. A shudder ran down Claire's spine and it took her a while until she was able to calm down; she rested a hand at her chest, forcing herself to inhale and exhale deeply. Avoid the hyperventilation. Come to rest. Things were OK. She was here in safety.
With a low huff of defeat the woman dropped her head; unclasping her bra in slow motion she let it slide to the tiled floor with the panties following soon after. Another fleeting glance was thrown at the chrome-framed mirror before Claire entered the shower cabin. The woman tossed the hair tie at the floor, not caring about its destination for now. The only thing she needed was icy cold water to sort her thoughts and deal with the happenings from the actual day.