80. Words

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Danny stared at the paper in his hand wordlessly as he stood firmly in the small apartment he'd resided in since he left home. It wasn't much, but it was all he could afford, it was a place to live and that was all he needed. As he skimmed the paper his hands began to tighten, crunching the edges of the paper.

And there it was two words, and his stomach dropped. His mouth went dry and he couldn't seem to swallow, he was barely breathing. He read the words over and over almost as if he feared he was misinterpreting them, maybe just reading them wrong. But no, it was really there, there was no denying it. And he tried, really he did.

He shut his eyes for a moment trying to grasp the entire concept he desperately tried to disassociate. He opened his eyes and stared out the window at the cold gray night sky, the streetlight flickered sporadically as it always had. Everything was as it always had been, it didn't change, and it wouldn't. These words meant nothing to anyone but him.

His hands began to shake as a crowning anguish over took him, what would he do? He was distressed, his mind helplessly addled. He'd never tell anyone that though, they'd believe he would shake it off immediately. He would laugh about it, make a joke out of it and himself. He was already locking up all his nervous reflexes.

Still he couldn't move, he stayed stolid, his eyes found the words again printed neatly on the pale pink paper. What would he do, what could he do? Repression smiled spitefully at him. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to cry, and he wanted to laugh. An incoherent assemblage of emotions left him feeling empty, drained, and weak.

"Danny?" Sam asked, she'd been standing behind him the whole time. He hadn't forgotten, he just wasn't entirely sure if he was there, he knew where she stood.

He felt her eyes reading the paper over his shoulder as she grasped his arm to not lose her balance. Her hands tightened and he knew she'd fallen upon the words. And now she knew.

"Oh Danny..." She whispered sadly, but he knew she couldn't understand, no amount of love between them would ever put them on the same ground. She'd never grasp the impact of this moment, of those words; she just couldn't even if she tried.

"Danny..." Her hands were on his shoulders now. "You have to exhale."

But how could he? The paper in his hand was suffocating him; he couldn't even muster the strength to breathe. Because printed ever so carefully was two words that corroded his world, it was so simple, it was so plainly put. His attention faded as his eyesight blurred, his mind a reeling jumbled mess.

Eviction pending...


Yes...I'm alive.