Homecoming
A vague recollection of the following events dances vaguely in my memory. I remember staring at a corpse and being unable to move. I remember a ladder and a lab table and a surgical mask. I remember an IV drip of morphling. I remember my right eye being permanently shut. I remember them cutting my hair short, embarrassment at the fact that they added in the barf bit, and some greatly numbed form of dismay at the final battle. I remember the train an the awesome food that I couldn't eat. I remember thinking that while I called myself so intelligent all the time, I didn't use that at all. I remember laughing emotionlessly at the irony of it all.
When I saw Nox, all of the emotion that had been suppressed the past few days burst from me with an ejaculation of his name. I ran to him, begging for an embrace. Of course, he stood still under my affection. "Hey, uh, welcome back Archaeos." He patted my back and awkwardly tensed under me. I begged him to come with me to see my new house. He reluctantly agreed.
When we got some alone time, I wrapped my arms around his waist, in desperate need of understanding and affection. He pushed me away. "Look, Archaeos," He began. "No, call me Archie! Don't use my whole name, please." I whined. "Archaeos, I...I just can't do this right now. You killed my sister. I just can't deal with you. I don't know why I ever did." His words cut me worse than Diamond's daggers, leaving deep emotional wounds that will never be healed. "Maybe I'll be able to do this when the loss isn't so fresh." Tears ran down my face and a betrayed gasp escaped my lips. "You don't think it's all fresh to me? What did you want me to do, die?" I started to yell, baffled at the stunning loss of his sensitivity. "Kinda, yeah! Better you than my sister!" His voice cracked and he looked away. "I-I'm done with this." He turned his back without looking at me, and walked out.
I fell to my knees and looked at the floor for a minute. I had to get some kind of comfort, something to ease the gaping hole in my chest. I considered talking to my mother. Maybe she would finally have pity on me. Or at least try to look at me with something other than disdain.
That was the stupidest idea I ever had. I saw her close her curtains and lock the door as I approached the house. I considered Ratchet. Hell, I was desperate. When I got to her house, she didn't want to talk to me. Probably because she didn't want to hear me blame it all on her. I guess I wasn't going to do that, but what would she know.
This left absolutely nobody to even attempt to come near me. I went to the market, got liquor, and drank myself into a coma. I had lost absolutely everything; my pride, what was left of my integrity, my love, the closest thing to a friend I had, and my entire family. I was broken, and there was no mending me this time. I had long lost the will to live, but lost the energy to kill myself. Even now, I drink myself into a comatose stupor every day. You were lucky to catch me sober, and this story took a lot of my drinking time just to think about painful memories. Get out of here, you bother me. Today's probably gonna be suicide day, if I can find a gun or something.
Oh, shit, has that always been there? Never noticed it before. Better leave, kid, this is gonna be gruesome.
Goodbye, cruel world...or some shit like that. See you in Hell, kid!
BAM-!
thunk.