Seventeen days since I've been here, twenty one since Edward's been gone.
It's been quite a while since I've been admitted here. I'm starting to think I'm not going to be getting out for a long time yet. I fear that I'll be here for ever, that I'll never be able to get out and experience all those little things, all the things you can't ever get close to in this place.
God, how much I want to hold a knife and make my own food. I want to use a metal fork, not the plastic ones they hand out. I want to have something more royal than macaroni and cheese.
Alphonse occasionally brings me food, but by the time the searchers have gone through it, it ends up to be nothing more than another pile of mess. Though it is much better than the crap they make here.
Ever since that day I freaked out, he's been more... reserved, I suppose, when he speaks to me. He'll await until I get onto a subject to talk about it, wait until I'm ready to tell him things that are on my mind. He no longer asks questions, and if it weren't for his hand on mine, I would think he was disinterested in me and my wavering excuse of a life.
I've become more hesitant to speak to him, too. But I still talk as animatedly as I did before I was put here, before all this happened, before Edward died. I still speak of my mechanics, of how desperately I want to hold a wrench and feel the oil on my skin, hear the ting of the metal as I hit it. He only smiles to me and says 'soon, soon'. But how soon? When is soon too far? Too close?
Is soon now? Or is soon twenty years from now?
I find his words are slowly losing their comfort. Whatever he says now suddenly has a second meaning, and I always turn to the second, more dark explanation he tries to give. I'm becoming lost, I think, starting to find little hope in everything. Not even his kind hugs with the alchemical designs or the kisses on the forehead – which have now been lowered onto my cheeks – seem to brighten my day like they used to, even though I'm now more aware of everything going on.
I'm starting to fall for Alphonse, I think. Who knew that this was what it would take for me to notice what a great guy he was? Who knew it would take a horrible event, two and a half weeks in a mental hospital, and a sudden break out for me to fall in love for the second time?
He's kind, I notice. But wild, sort of. He gives me this smile, sometimes, that's filled with something animistic and dangerous. It reminds me of Edward, in a way, but I constantly have to remind myself that they're different, that he's dead.
I've admitted to myself that I only love him because he reminds me so much of Edward. I've only just started to see Alphonse as his own being, as his own sort of entity instead of the younger version of his brother. It's hard, but I'm starting to be in love with Alphonse, instead of the mini-Edward I want him to be.
"Winry?"
I look up. Alphonse is here right now, just staring at me with a look of concern, his hand grasped onto mine rather tightly, but I don't mind the pressure, the slight tinge of pain; it lets me know I'm still here, still facing him, his being still on mine.
"Yeah?" I smile to him as I speak.
He's beautiful.
He looks at me for a moment, blushes, laughs and looks away. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he questions.
"Like what?"
He gives a halfhearted smile to me, leans forward uncharacteristic, and puts his forehead centimeters from my own.
"You wouldn't be falling for me, would you?" He smiles that dangerous smile that makes my heart race, leaning forward a little more, his lips so close to mine. I'm sure, then, that I have fallen for him. He's not like the quiet, shy Alphonse I knew long ago. He's more inviting, more arrogant, more daring. He's more Edward than Alphonse, and I know I'm replacing him, but I know I need to. I'll go crazy without an Alphonse or an Edward.
I smile, too, closing my eyes.
Take the leap, I tell myself. Just lean in, just do it. But the image of Edward is still there, still so vivid. It still brings those tears to my eyes.
"Why would you say that?" I ask, slightly pushing back.
He moved away, too, leaning back in his seat and shrugging. "'Dunno. Edward would be really pissed if you were falling in love with me, though." He laughs, that smile still able to be seen on his face. "Not like I can blame you; I'm quite the catch."
I laugh then, too, hitting him in the shoulder.
It's then that I realize just how crazy I am.
His face slowly changes, features of Edward popping through the of Alphonse. His eyes widen and they're sudden Edward's, his hair longer and braided, lips thin and smiling. Small features break through, and I'm so startled I have to close my eyes and look down.
He's Alphonse, I tell myself over and over. My knees raise up instintively and I'm rocking on the chair, head between my knees.
"Winry?" Alphonse asks. I want to look up, because his hand is on my knee, but I don't. I can't stand to look up and see him as Edward. It'll be too much... I'll cry, I'll break down, I'll hit Al and scream and hurt someone. I don't want to look more crazy than I already do.
So I lie.
"I don't feel good, Al."
His hand leaves mine, and the door opens. It closes, then opens moments later.
Someone's cold hand is on my arm, and I'm slowly being pulled out of the room, carefully like a porcelain doll.
Even as I'm walking away, I can't face him. I can't turn around and look at him; I'm too scared of what I'll see.
You probably think I'm just losing it completely, huh? I can't even offer any justification for that, either. I'm committing such a horrible act, I'm doing something that I know I'll never be forgiven for. To be in love with my husband's younger brother?
I'm a monster.
You're probably banishing me to Hell right now. How could I ever just abandon something as great as what Edward and I had? How could I just forget it all?
I don't even know. Please, stranger, give me some answers. I can't do this, and I don't want to do this.
I just want out. I want to be outside! I want to run and run and run, never looking back and never stopping!
I want to leave.
Please, stranger, be my escape. Come, rescue me. You know that I'm not that crazy. You know everything I've never dared to tell anyone else. You know me better than anyone, even Alphonse, even Edward. You need to help me.
Save me.
Please. Don't let me face Alphonse again.
