Dragging the Feet Forward

It doesn't hit me until it's too late.

I messed up. I could've done better. Sure, I can go through life with false satisfaction, justifying every one of my decisions as my "best effort" given the circumstances, but I adhere to a higher standard.

It's only when I'm tucked away in bed do I realize that my cousin confessed to attempted suicide. It's not some embarrassing little thing that we can all laugh about once it's out in the open; it's a revelation that fundamentally alters how people look at him. It's not so much the attempt itself that worries me, but the reason for it.

I don't believe he lacks emotions. He might have trouble recognizing it, but no one is truly without emotions. Even sociopaths have feelings, although it's mostly of superiority and contempt for everyone else.

If I have to call it something, it sounds like apathy-induced depression. He feels guilty about being depressed since he has no tragic focal point, and this guilt just makes him feel even worse. Saying "other people have it worse" is pretty much the worst thing you can say to someone like this. Too many people try to make it a pissing contest. It's irrelevant. What matters is how he feels, and that's it.

You see, I already know this, but I couldn't say any of it. There were so many reassuring lines that would've been perfect for the situation, but in the heat of the moment, such sweet words couldn't be further from my mind.

I can't really blame myself for not knowing what to say; anyone else would've been speechless —but I should always know what to say, regardless of how insane the situation is. It's what I've staked my pride on—being able to respond to anything and everything.

But I messed up. I forgot my lines. I didn't rehearse. I was completely lost, and my improvisation only carried me so far. I'll have to take the loss on this one.

Did my words truly help? Did I make him feel any better? Or was I just speaking for myself? There are people who, under the guise of helping others, dispense advice for their own smug satisfaction. I should know, because I used to be one of them—or perhaps I still am?

Putting aside my selfish worries, the only thing I can do now is continue watching over him. It doesn't matter if my words didn't reach him the first time. I can always try and try again until the scene is perfect. Until then, he's just gotta stay alive.

I fall asleep easily. I thought Roxas' confession would keep me up all night, but it's nothing against a week's worth of exhausting nonsense. Even though there's no school tomorrow, things won't be slowing down at all. If anything, it'll be worse, because Kairi has me all to herself this entire weekend.

At least at school, I can count us being separated. I don't know what prolonged exposure will do to me. I understand what she's going through, so I can't fault her for acting so clingy, but a part of me is nervous that she's gonna do something bold.

She's been well-behaved up to this point, but the weekend is the most dangerous time for a relapse. It's like giving a bottle of whiskey to an alcoholic. Can she truly resist temptation? At some point, she's gonna give in. Maybe not entirely, but she'll uncork the bottle, take a whiff of that inviting aroma, and maybe stick her finger in for a taste…

Okay, forget I said all that. That is a terrible analogy and I am absolutely ashamed for having made it, if only because of the startling imagery and its godawful implications. I have only myself to blame. I sincerely apologize.

After a somewhat tumultuous rest, I wake to the sound of shuffling drawers.

There are only two people bold enough—or dumb enough—to go snooping around my room. The first is Roxas, but since he dropped the heaviest of bombs yesterday, it's unlikely to be him, and the second is—

"Good morning."

Kairi.

I keep my eyes shut and have the covers wrapped firmly around my head. So this is what it's like to wake up in a nightmare. Feels sweaty. "What are you doing?" I ask, groaning at this unpleasant surprise.

Who am I kidding? I should've expected this, not that I could anything about it. Even if I locked my doors and windows, she was gonna get in somehow. Nothing can stop her.

I'm annoyed. Mom doesn't intrude into my room anymore, much less anyone else. It's all Roxas' fault. He opened the floodgates. Once you let one person in, everybody else comes barreling through. You gotta respect a teenager's privacy. What makes her think that she can just gallivant around my room like she owns the place? Is it her ability to kill me with one sultry stare? I guess that's reason enough, but it doesn't mean I have to like it.

"I figured you wouldn't mind since there aren't any secrets between us now," she explains innocently. I don't know how you can make the jump from "no more secrets" to total invasion of privacy. "I found something interesting."

She must be referring to the porn mag stuffed in my bottom drawer. I'd forgotten about that. "That's not…mine."

It really isn't; it's my dad's. Since Mom scaled back her OCD and left me alone, it made my room the perfect hiding spot for all his contraband.

"This picture of me isn't yours?" Oh. She was talking about that. Crap. That's an even worse discovery!

"It's not what it looks like."

"You don't have to be embarrassed."

"Don't get the wrong idea."

"It was Pence, wasn't it?" Okay. It was exactly the right idea. "I know because he gave me a picture of you."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because I asked him."

That guy's a full blown mercenary. He just works for the highest bidder. I shouldn't expect any loyalty from him. "You sure you didn't ask for a whole album?"

"I'll wait until I can get better pictures." What the hell is that supposed to mean? "By the way, you have some pretty interesting taste in porn." She found it after all.

"Like I said, it's not mine."

"Excuses, excuses. At least I know you're not gay now."

"I could've told you that." And it doesn't mean you have a chance either.

"But you didn't. What am I supposed to think when you act like I got cooties?"

"That's because you do have cooties, and it's legitimately life threatening for me. Can you please get out of my room already so I can get dressed?"

She giggles and I hear her get up. "I just wanted to tell you something."

"What that?" I ask cautiously.

"Estheim's son...his name is Hope. We'll be meeting him around noon today."

"Hope?" What a fitting name, considering my circumstance. This Hope might be my best chance of meeting my teacher, and consequently, unlocking my hidden past with Kairi. "Thanks for telling me. So can you leave now?"

I can feel her hovering over me. I can't see or hear her, but somehow, I know she's there. I cower beneath my sheets for a couple more minutes. How long does she intend to trap me?

Screw it. I can't allow her to reign over me like this. I pull the covers below my eyes and peek through squinted eyes. She's gone.

I wonder if she was ever here or if I'm just hallucinating.

"Hurry up!" she yells from downstairs.

Well, that answers that.

I put on something decent and drag my feet into the bathroom. Even though Kairi's voice clearly came from below, I pull aside the shower curtains to make sure she isn't hiding in the bathtub. Just for the hell of it, I lift the toilet seat too…because I need to take a piss.

As I relieve myself, I'm struck with sudden panic and my eyes dart towards the doorknob. It's locked. I let out a sigh. Good. I'm sure she has a line that even she won't cross, but you never know. She has the uncanny ability to show up in the most unexpected places. I'm beginning to suspect she has the power to teleport, and instead of using it to fight crime and injustice, she's selfishly using it to bother me.

I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and start brushing my teeth. I think back on my plans to help Roxas that I hatched last night. I devised them partly out of guilt for treating him as an afterthought, but my guilt is mitigated when I recall my attempts to unearth the truth. Can't say I didn't try.

Now that the cat's out of the bag, I sort have an obligation now. I have a (entirely fabricated, and by Roxas of all people) reputation to uphold as the man with all the plans, and it's not limited to getting the girl either. Time to add "depression therapy" to my resume.

I rinse out my mouth and look at myself in the mirror. Just a little worse for wear; mostly messy hair and bags. I leave the bathroom and the door to Roxas' room is slightly ajar. I peer in. He's sitting by his desk doing…homework?

"This is the first time I've ever seen you do something remotely productive."

Roxas, a bit startled, looks up and concedes a smile. "Can't be dumb all the time."

"Why not? It's our privilege." If you ask me what I want to be when I grow up, the answer's gotta be a moron. Why? Because a moron is happy no matter how shitty the situation is. Ignorance is the true key to happiness. "How long has Kairi been here?"

"Not long…" He looks like he wants to say more. He thinks about it for a few agonizing seconds, hesitates, and says, "Have fun at the concert." I know that's not what he wanted to say.

"What are you talking about? Get your ass ready. You're coming with us."

"What?"

"No need to act so shocked. I already told you about my problem, right? It's all the more reason for you to come and act as a buffer in case Kairi gets any weird ideas."

"I thought you two were okay with each other?"

"Okay is the last word I'd use to describe our relationship." It's more a ceasefire. He begins to realize that my words from yesterday weren't empty promises, but carried actual weight. "Come on, who do you think I am? Didn't I tell you? If you can't care enough, then I'll do it for both of us. Your function as a reverse cockblock is just a bonus."

He laughs. "What about the tickets?"

"Tickets?" I scoff. "We don't need no stinkin' tickets. We've got Kairi."

"True." He sets his pencil down and contemplates on his algebra. "You got me."

"I know I do. I'll wait for you downstairs and uh… Try to hurry up. I don't know how long I can last alone with her."

"I'll take my time then."

"Jackass." He chuckles his way towards the closet and I take my leave. Our conversation just now was probably the most normal exchange between cousins we've ever had—as far as "normal" goes between two fucked up teenagers anyways. I'm not complaining; the path to getting unfucked has gotta start somewhere.

My descent down the stairs is a cautious one, slow and measured, with each step heavier than the last. As my living room comes into view, my eyes blink rapidly, struggling between two conflicting ideals. Part of me wants to know where she is and another does not.

I'm the dumb heroine in a horror movie, stumbling towards my murderous doom. Common sense tells me to stop, turn around, and jump out the window, but I'm screwed either way.

"Can you walk any slower?" My shoulders tense until I source her voice below me, near the back of the stair case, right in my blind spot. I'm in no hurry to resolve it.

"Just trying to gather my bearings."

She deciphers my reply easily. "You don't trust me?"

"I don't even trust myself," I excuse lamely. With my entire world conception unraveling around me, I'm playing things by ear. My friends are enemies, and my enemies friends. Who's to say they won't flip flop again? Just being careful.

"I liked you better when you were desperate." I wonder why.

"Who doesn't?"

"You were a lot more honest back…and vulnerable." Don't remind me. That's a chapter of my history that's better left blank. "I should've capitalized…"

"Your intent is showing."

She doesn't say anything, and I imagine her response, "I know it is. What are you going to do about it? Oh, that's right, you can't do anything!" Cue maniacal witch-like laughter. I take a quick glance over my shoulder to confirm that she isn't some manifestation of my Love Sickness. Her silhouette informs me otherwise.

That's good enough for me. I climb down the stairs and lean near the front door, making sure to keep my eyes away from her direction.

"I go through the effort of dressing up for you and you're not even gonna look?"

Do I dare? The setup couldn't be any more obvious, but this is Kairi I'm dealing with here. What if not looking is the trap? Perhaps it's reverse psychology, and she wants me to think it's a trap when it actually is, and—

Screw it. I look at her without any preparation.

Huh. She wasn't lying. She really did dress up for me. She's in a loose hoodie and slim jeans with a cap on her head. Despite her best efforts, I can't maintain my stare for long. At least I didn't puke instantly, so I'll give her a passing grade. "Are you trying to hide from paparazzi?"

"I'm just doing what I can."

"I appreciate the thought, but I feel sorry that you have to hold yourself back around me." She looks amazing either way, but the sky's the limit for her. I get the chills just thinking about her potential. Laguna must've been drooling all over his chin when he scouted her. A born star if there ever was one.

She laughs like I made the greatest joke in the world. "I'm not holding myself back at all. You're the only reason I can be myself." I can't tell the difference, probably because she's always been herself around me. What the heck is she like when I'm not around? I can't even imagine. "As long as I'm close to you, it doesn't matter what I wear. I'll put a paper bag over my head if that's what it takes."

"Then why don't you?" I ask immediately.

"Will you hug me if you do?"

"That's not happening."

"Exactly."

How prudent of her. I thought we were friends. Shouldn't she acquiesce to my request out of friendship? "Are we discussing terms of exchange now?"

"In a relationship, you gotta learn to give and take."

"I wasn't aware we were in one."

"It started as soon as you showed up on my doorstep."

I shake my head. "Your ability to revise history never fails to astound."

"It's not the past I'm trying to revise, it's the future."

And that, my friends, is what they call the finishing blow. She never fails to take my breath away. It's at times like these that I feel both extreme fear and admiration. It's a complicated feeling.

Roxas' disordered steps disrupt our comfortable lull. He slows down halfway, sensing the delicate atmosphere. "Are we good to go?"

I answer by walking out the front door. A mad scramble and the door busts open behind me. "Wait up!"

"Catch up." I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. And if I'm gonna be honest, I'm tired of doing too. My only option then, is to rely on others, but the fools trailing me are just as screwed up and miserable as I am.

Maybe…that's enough. There's strength in solidarity. On our own, we're idiots, but together…we're competent. That's about the best I can hope for.

Destiny Islands feels different today. A cool breeze ruffles my hair and relaxation washes over. I don't feel the hot pinpricks that normally accompany an outside stroll. The girls who come across my vision barely register on my danger scales. A daze has been lifted.

Before, I've always felt under constant attack by that disgusting feeling of being watched. It was more out of conceit than paranoia, but that's the thing about mental illness, it distorts reality. Depression and loneliness make us feel worse than dirt, and it doesn't matter what anyone else says, because in our minds, we are what we are.

It's a little funny that they both know my secret and I know theirs, but they don't know anything about each other. It's not my place to spill the beans. Today is about me. No more distractions.

The air becomes saltier as we descend towards the coast. The place is just as crowded as always. The sidewalks are packed with people and all sorts of delectable smells and loud noises pour from street side vendors and restaurants. Destiny Islands is a year-round attraction. There's no such thing as a slow month.

I've never really appreciated how amazing this place is. The sights I see on a daily basis are rare treats for the rest of the world. But today, I feel the awe that glazes over many a tourist's eyes.

"I'm really glad I moved here," Kairi says.

"Me too," Roxas adds.

I smile, not that they can see it. I do it because that's just how I feel. It's only because they're here that I can truly appreciate the moment. "You'll get used to it."

The concert will be held at the pier, on the Fahrenheit ferry. It should be docked somewhere between the luxury liners that are always coming and going. It's a colorful section of the pier. Every company sends their flagship cruise ships. We get nothing but the best, after all. They look less like boats and more like garish parade floats that glide on water.

An early concert on a Saturday isn't the worst timing, but certainly not the best either. It'll be but one event in a sea of them. There's always something going on, especially on the weekends. If there's anything Destiny Islands is good at, it's finding excuses to party and showing guests how to have a good time.

I shade my eyes and look up. An endless blue with a couple freewheeling white tufts. Ideal—perfect, really. I don't know if I should take it as a good sign or a bad omen, like fantastic weather on my funeral. I trace the flight path of a couple sea gulls towards the coast. All my tension escapes through my breath. I feel good.

"What's the plan?" Kairi asks, interrupting my moment of tranquility. "Does Roxas know what's going on?"

"What are you guys talking about?" my cousin interjects. "Aren't we going to a concert?"

My eyes fall from the sky and Destiny Islands becomes a tinge dimmer. "Why's everybody speaking in questions?"

"I'm being serious," says Kairi. "Did you figure something out?"

"Uh… guys? I'm lost." When are you not? I can't even tell if he's acting or legitimately confused. Just to preserve my image of him, I'll pretend he's still an idiot. I'm sure he'd rather have it that way too.

That's no excuse for interrupting though. I was having a moment, and one that doesn't come by very often. It's like trying to fall asleep with a party upstairs. Right when I'm about to drift away, it kicks up again. "There is no plan. I'm gonna wing it."

"Are you sure that's the best choice?" She sounds worried.

"What do you expect me to do?"

"You should talk to her before the concert. See what's up."

"I was gonna do that anyways. Besides, didn't you tell me you got a good feeling from her?"

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

Her worry is undermined by Roxas' confusion. "Why would he be getting hurt?"

Kairi sighs, audibly frustrated that our alone time was not so alone anymore. Good job, Roxas. I knew bringing you along was a good idea. "Should I fill him in?"

"He already knows my secret."

"Since when?" I detect mild irritation. She seems to think her importance is declining with every person I reveal my secret to. She shouldn't worry. Just because everybody knows Superman's weakness doesn't make kryptonite any less effective.

"Since he told me he tried to kill himself."

"What?"

"Hey!"

Oops. So much for holding on to secrets. I shrug it off. I didn't intend to reveal it, but it's not like I promised to keep it either. If I did, just pass it off as amnesia of convenience.

"Why did you…" I don't pay attention to Roxas' protests. While there are plenty of excuses to choose from, the biggest one is that I just don't give a fuck anymore.

"It's fine," I say. "She's cool."

"But—"

"The more people you have on your side, the easier it is to let go. I already know both of your secrets and you guys know mine. Let's be honest with each other from now on." I'm too lazy to tiptoe around the both of them together. Saves me the trouble of having to watch what I say.

"Wait… What secret does Kairi have?" Oops, I did it again.

I ignore Kairi's sharp gasp and answer casually, "She's afraid of being alone."

"Sora!"

I close my eyes and relish the soft breeze. I'm normally not this forthcoming, especially with secrets that aren't my own, but the whole idea of a secret has lost meaning lately.

This is just preparation for the inevitable. The day is coming when everybody will know exactly who I am. It might be today, tomorrow, or whenever. It doesn't matter. I can't run away forever, and when it happens, the only thing I can do is…

Embrace it.