Chapter 14. Disaster

I've gone crazy for sure.

They have all told me I was crazy, so maybe it's not such a big surprise.

It's only becoming clearer as I read this in the dim light of my small flashlight, walking past the gates of presumably the best place I've lived in, in my entire life.

Let me recap what happened for you.
Hell, better yet, why don't you just read some of the crazy rambling I wrote the past few nights? Yeah, I thought writing it might help me deal with it. Not so much.
But who cares anyhow.

I can't help but feel how I feel.
I know I'm selfish, but I don't know how to stop.
I know they don't need me adding on to their problems. I know that. I just can't help it. I can't control what I feel. If I could, I wouldn't be in this situation to begin with...

It's a distinctly different feeling.
Not an all together pleasant feeling, but not exactly unpleasant either. Let's just go with 'different' for now.

I don't know.

I wrote pages and pages of this crap, but I still can't figure out what to do. In the end I just decided to be selfish old me.

But hell, being selfish has worked for me so far, hasn't it?

Then again, when it comes to them... I just don't know. If I'd known having people you care about was this confusing, I would never have tried it. Oh, wait. That's right.
I never meant to.

It's not just that I'm worried about.
Well, not so much worried about as feeling guilty over.
Yeah. Believe it or not, Tabitha Smith feels guilt too.

I think I owe Amara about, well, roughly a hundred dollars, give or take. Probably about fifty for Kurt. And about thirty, forty dollars to Ray, Roberto, Rahne, Jubilee, Bobby, and Sam. Each. I mean, I owe Jamie ten dollars!

It's not like I can pay them back anyhow, but this... this is officially declaring their money long gone.
Not that I think they really expect me to pay them back, Amara even told me she doesn't mind it, and that her family gives her enough money for the both of us, but still.
I really think most of them have begun to notice that I don't seem to use the money on clothes or anything, so they are wondering what's up. Amara especially has been asking me if I wanted to talk. Even Jean and Scott have asked me if anything was wrong once. I'm not even going to go to the looks Logan and the others are giving me when they think I'm not looking; or even when they know I am.

I'm just... I don't even know what I am. Just a bad person to know, I guess. Or maybe just bad, period.

Too late for regrets.

I'm already halfway there.

Besides, I don't do regret.

Or remorse.

Of course, I never planned to do all this close friendship and feeling like a family and needing people thing either.
I just talked like Pietro.

What I mean is, I never planned any of this.

Things just happened.

I thought it'd be easier if I left without saying anything. No, I knew it'd be easier if I left without saying anything.
Not just because this way, no one will try to stop me, but because, well, I'm not good at this stuff.
You'd think that someone who moved around as much as I did would be.
Taking off's easy, I guess. Leaving's not.

Maybe they won't notice.
Maybe.

I thought I'd try self-deception for a second.
It doesn't seem to work as well as they say. Maybe I'm not doing it right.

They've been suspecting something anyhow.
They've been expecting for me to pull something.
Well, it happened.
Logan will come to get me for the morning Danger room session and I won't be there.

I have no idea what I'm going to say.
Once I get there I mean.
Do I just go as I do everyday, and walk in with my stuff?

Admittedly, that is what I did last time.

The sun's rising.
Haven't seen that in a while.
It's kind of nice.

I guess some things don't change.
Well, at least not for a while.

Too bad I'm not one of those things.

It's not that I feel sorry for myself.
Because I don't feel sorry for myself.
I just feel sorry for the people I mess up by doing all this.
It's not like they deserve to have me messing up their lives.
That's the only thing my so-called dad was ever right about.

It's...

Oh shit.

What...

...What...

...is...

...going...

...on...

What happened here...

Everything's gone.
Destroyed.
It has to be Lance; I'd recognize hispowers anywhere, but what... why...

...What's going on...

Where is everyone? What happene- what is that- oh shit... gas.

I'm pretty sure I'm falling.

Are you all right?