A/N: Characters are property of Ben Elton, story inspired by an unnamed song by Hunter, Jeff, Heidi and Susan from [TOS] from their recent trip on an Alaskan cruise ship and fic' ruined all by myself! XD
"Am I alone?"
The bright questioning eyes of an eleven year old boy stare across at the freshly erased scribbles on his bedroom wall, the damp magnolia paint barely masking where his black marker has traced his itching desire, "Is there anybody out there?" he fidgets nervously, a discomfort at his own mind's insistence on projecting all of life's questions into outbursts like this.
A ten year old girl pads the ground with quick and inelegant steps, her own feet spinning her into a dizzy whirl- her arms spread wide as she watches the world spin past her in an almost sickening haze. Yet this is the most comfortable she has felt in weeks, her body and her thoughts finally at the same spiralling speed, "Does anyone else feel like they have so many thoughts in their head, if they don't do something about it they'll explode?" her eyes adjust as she stops suddenly, focusing on the all too familiar empty lawn as she feels her last thought swings giddily between her temples.
"Anyone?"
Even his parents have started to stare at him in wordless wonder; he can feel them watching him cautiously as they stand in his doorway, a nearing empty paint pot in one hand and a dripping emulsion clogged brush in another. They've stopped scalding him for these incidents, their concern no longer the presentation of their house, but the sanity of their son. "Does anyone else feel… mad?" his eyes dart quickly around his small bedroom, "…or weird?" his parents exchange shrugs and turn to leave. "…or different?"
Just one friend. That's all that she wants. Just one person with a wordless understanding of how she feels, someone who shares her quirks and humours her faults. "Anybody?" she calls aloud, "Anyone?" a lopsided rag doll sits mute, its one buttoned eye staring up at her. "Is anyone listening to me?!" she stresses, her arms flapping at her side in distress as she stamps a small foot.
He flops down on to his unmade bed, his brow furrowed in wonder. Is this world completely oblivious to him? Or out there somewhere is there someone wondering the same thing as he is? "Is anybody watching?" he calls out to nobody in particular. "Am I the only one like this?"
"Am I alone out here…?"
"… in my bedroom?"
"…in my garden?"