Here it is, the last chapter before my three week hiatus. Once again, thanks to my critics, reviewers, and anyone who's read the story.
-Only in a Dancing God
Hero's log:
Here I go again, falling slowly into 'sanity', like the fool I've always been. I wake up in the middle of the night, a cold sweat drenching my frame. I'm…Afraid? Give me a sign that this will turn out right. Any sign at all. I wish I could tell what the hell Arthur was doing. At night, under the cloak of the sweet stars, Arthur is my lover, my confidant, my friend. In the day, while the sun shines strong, Arthur is just a submissive, spineless stranger. I should talk.
No! I will not betray Kiku. He stuck to his guns, and they killed him for it. I stand in defiance of that injustice. Taking a chance on people-putting your emotions out there on the line-is a risky gamble. Life is pain. If you're alive, you're going to get hurt. A lot. And often. By the people you care about most. Arthur and I swore on our souls we would never do that to each other. I saw it in his eyes, his beautiful sea glass eyes. So he must be trying to save me…right?
Who doesn't lie to advance their own selfish wants?
Love,
Alfred
Dear Peter,
I'm living an honest lie. I'd do it again and again for Alfred, a thousand times over. I love him farther than the expanding, limitless universe (or universes). I love him deeper than the depths of Tartarus. I dream of sweet freedom. I will take Alfred home with me, since the house is mine now that Dad is dead. You will live with us. We will be a happy little family, what I wanted but never got. It will be the rest we've always searched for.
An ache here or there, occasional nausea, very blurred vision. My symptoms grow exponentially. I swear to everything and anything that I will never take medications after I leave this accursed place. Matthew reeks of alcohol. Alfred is too thick to see it. Why must the world corrupt the most beautiful things? Innocence is shattered. Hearts are broken.
My payback for being selfish is that I love the most selfless person imaginable.
Goodnight Peter
Hero's log:
I hate what Arthur is becoming. Where is the foul mouthed rebel I grew to love? I will never give up on him. It has to be a ploy, a farce, a ruse. I'm so scared. Paranoia seeps into my veins. Words ricochet off of me. I'm invincible-unbreakable-because I've already failed. If I can't bring Arthur back…I'll go crazy. Or is it sane? Sanity is opposite insanity.
My love for Artie cannot, will not sputter out. Our flame is eternal. They can scoff and laugh and shoot us down, we will ascend above their foolish accusations. In the end, nothing matters but getting out alive. The only way I can do that is by rescuing Artie. No matter how I try, it all falls down. When I was little, I built my first monument. It was beautiful. It burned to the ground.
I've had too far to go in so little time. Give me a sign Arthur; I need to believe in something.
Love,
Alfred
Dear Peter,
I'm taking a moment to assess my sins and atone for them. I apologize for my betrayals; I acted only to preserve Alfred. I plead for forgiveness for the times I've made him cry. That stupid boy...I'm bloody saving us. He needs to speak soon, or they won't release us at the same time. I should speak now, tell him of my plan. I am afraid to do so. What if Ivan hears; he's always listening…Always. God save us.
Please, keep your head up Alfred. I'm so close, yet still so far from our freedom. I can taste it. I love how Alfred is not okay because I am not okay. It proves we are mere extensions of a single soul.
I have confidence in our salvation. I do not have confidence that our salvation is of earth. Perhaps the only way for us to be saved is for us to leave…?
Goodnight Peter
Hero's log:
I'm lying in bed. It is cold. Arthur is talking to the head doctor. I can't stop the tears. I hurt. I'm scared. Make it stop. Matthew didn't come in today. I don't understand. He's never even been late. Gilbert lost it and they sent him to the isolation room. I've been there. The room is white. The floor is hard. The walls are soft. It hurts my brain to think about. I miss Kiku. He was a good friend.
Ivan is an omnipresent force of evil. He over-dosed Kiku. They said it was suicide, that he did it to himself. He didn't. I know it. I'm sane. They're crazy. I've come too far to turn back now. I must persevere and succeed, for Artie. I don't want to live if we aren't free. I'm scared of these thoughts. I'm scared of a lot of things. But I'm the hero. So I lie. Honestly, I'm a hypocrite. I hate them for living lies, but it's better that way; it hurts far less. The only person who appreciated my honest silence was Arthur. Does he still?
I'm not sure how long I can take being here. I feel like signing the closing remarks on the letter of my life. Hope keeps me alive. They say Hope is a thing with feathers. Where are my wings, so that I might save myself?
If you can hear me, hear me now: I don't understand, and that petrifies me.
Love,
Alfred
Dear Peter,
Ivan knows. I was so close. But it's never enough, nothing ever is. I don't want to be seen. I'm a wretch. I'm broke, shattered. I cried after lunch in my room and I looked up and he was standing there, in the door frame, chuckling. He knows. He always knew. Maybe there is only one exit…through the morgue. I can't let Alfred die though. And he's expressed several times that if I go, he goes with me. Damn it! I can't do this! I can't let Alfred get hurt. He's got this beautiful fucking life in front of him. All I have is a collection of broken dreams, teacups, and unicorn memorabilia.
It's raining, heaven is crying. I'm fighting for our very soul. I won't let any of this slip away from me. Someone is playing the piano. It's not Alfred. The passion is missing. He's scared. I'm scared too. I will find a way out. No matter the cost, we will be together. Wiser men than I have tried to deduce the meaning of suffering. I will never understand why we couldn't have met in a happier universe. We probably have. I just can't perceive it. I can only perceive what is directly in front of me: human suffering.
What's the lesson in all of this? I'm going to talk to Alfred, apologize to him. We'll just escape some other way. This institution is the rout of civilization. Every twelve hours they take our vitals. Mine are concerning. These meds…I don't know how to fight this battle, Peter. Take me away, far away from this place. I never want to feel so sluggish and ill again. At least I have him, and he loves me.
May you never be labeled as mentally ill…
Goodnight Peter
Hero's log:
Matthew is gone. The police haven't found him. I'm being drawn into a black hole. Disappeared without a trace. My stupid, dependable brother. He's gone. I can tell he's dead. Everyone knows. No one will say it. I can't get out of my bed. Every fiber of my being aches and I plead for mercy. I can't make sense of this. My head hurts from the racing thoughts. Is there no relief?
Arthur had to be dragged from my side. He is meeting with the staff to discuss his release. They will never let him go. I am unaware of anything that could hurt more than this, except losing Arthur. If it wasn't for Arthur, I would've ended it the moment I thought that Matthew was dead. I've tried so hard, too hard, to go someplace, to be someone. In the end, it was all for naught.
For the longest time, I thought the type of person you were made a difference. It doesn't.
Love,
Alfred
Dear Peter,
Matthew is dead. They found him floating in the river, face down. Just dead. No explanation, no justification, just an end to another innocent existence. Alfred can barely move. It breaks me. Alfred is wasting away in front of me and I am simply powerless to save him. It kills me. I want nothing but our happiness. That's too much to ask; the price is far too high.
Personally, if you died, I wouldn't know how to breathe for a while, but then the clock would restart and I'd put on my company manners and the show would go on. Maybe it's just because I've dealt with Death before. Maybe it's just because I'm sick. I'll never know. You're alive though, and so are Alfred and I. If everyone loved the way Alfred and I did, it would be worthless.
Death really shouldn't concern us because when we exist death doesn't, and when death exists we don't.
Goodnight Peter