Chapter 20

It's happening again. Hate it; don't want it. But it doesn't care about me. Whatever it was.

My dreams just get worse and worse and more frequent; both the ones were I am the victim, and the ones where I was in control; each which I despised and loved, respectively. I don't really understand my own motives, or even my own thoughts. Reality itself seemed to be slipping, and I didn't understand any of it.

Sometimes dreams melded with reality, and I'd find myself in the middle of an illusion during the day, only to snap out of it in panic upon realizing what was happening.

Days and weeks passed; winter began to dissolve away into Spring, and still I could never really focus on anything that was going on.

Arianna tried to help, I know she did. But I didn't even know how to explain to her what was going on. I myself didn't know what was going on.

Why did my life revolve around fear? Why couldn't I simply wake one morning, go to school, and have a NORMAL day?

Instead I felt like I was on a train destined to wreck, plunging to the ultimate crash without knowing when it would occur. And I was pretty certain it was all my fault, though I couldn't be certain HOW.

Pretty sure I was losing control... It was like a psychological sickness, but tended to manifest itself in oddly physical ways. My heart raced all the time; I couldn't relax and slow it down. Sometimes I shook upon waking from another false illusion, and spent minutes reestablishing my reality. It became harder and harder to focus on things. Where once I had incredible patience, I was now found wanting.

I was quicker to anger and could never keep my mind on more pleasant topics. It was bordering fantasizing when I imagined the terrible things I could do if I was in control of everything. Like...

No, no, NO - I'm forbidden from hurting him - oh, I hate him, but I can't hurt him, that would mean I'm crazy, that would mean I couldn't control my own thoughts.

But I didn't get why I was fighting any more. What did this really matter to me; was living like this worth it?

Sometimes I want to curl up and cry and have someone care unconditionally. Arianna would. But I never let her in; I never break in front of her. Other times, I feel like I am so much greater than everyone around me. They are so hopeless and full of illusions; thinking they're accomplishing something with their dimwitted minds, going in circles.

But then, what am I accomplishing?

Maybe nothing. Maybe there's nothing to accomplish. Wasn't that something Andrew had said?

Maybe - just maybe - I should live to serve myself, my own drives, my own desires. We're always taught it's selfish and cruel to not care about others and to care about ourselves alone. But why are we taught that? So we don't hurt people, and in turn, don't get hurt?

There was a thousand things wrong with that idea. Wasn't I hurt? All I had done was try to be myself and be kind, but the response was attempted murder.

Arianna was gentle and loving, but people took advantage of that. It wasn't fair at all - why should we be kind for that? Maybe by being kind, I would make someone else's life just a little better. But what did that matter to me?

This was intriguing. I stuck my tongue out thoughtfully and gazed at nothing in particular.

Why did I ever try to NOT do something that felt good, but was ultimately bad? Like my dreams; about me hurting others. I really liked to do that. The dee was proof of that, wasn't he? Frozen proof. Oh wait, it was spring now... I frowned. Ew.

Anyway, point was that I'd been spending all this time trying NOT to do bad things, because I'd known people didn't like that sort of thing. But that meant my actions were results of what they expected and not what my own perception of the world was like.

That was stupid. I was me, myself, I, Marx, me, I, Marx, myself, ME. Not you, society. Newp, me.

The answer was quite simple - so obvious I didn't know how I hadn't seen it before.

I should live to serve myself. I do what I please when I please and how I please. People would spend all their time trying to stop me if they wanted, but that was their loss, because I knew what was right and they were just stupidly adhering to some weird code that just protected THEM.

Now I guess I should figure out what I wanted, then go to any means to achieve it.

There wasn't any doubt in my mind what I wanted; the very thing I'd dreamed about for months now, ever since Andrew's death.

Chills went up my spine. Would I really? Could I really? I panted as I thought it through, my tongue hanging between my fangs.

Yes, oh yes I could. I could, if I'd only let myself. And here I could let myself.

I couldn't remember why I'd ever resisted at all - we're only ourselves, right? And me, I was Marx, Marx was... no, not crazy - WHY did that still bother me? It shouldn't if I didn't care what other people thought.

It was all so confusing, but I knew one thing, and that was that Derrick wasn't really safe from me anymore. I finally had something to set my sights on, something to accomplish...