For those of you that need the reminder: this is set way back in time.. Way
back.
Chapter 15
It's uncontrollable-- this overwhelming desire to cry, and scream, and--
I don't know-- die?
It sounds so trivial when I think of it like that, but in some way, that's the only thing it feels like-- like the will to live was simply a fleeting thought I had a million centuries ago in another life, in another time, another portal of space---
The swirling ill feeling is still with me though slightly subdued now. Subdued. Now that's the word for it-- dead but still alive-- and slightly curious. Why *do* I suddenly feel like--
Whatever it is I can't find the word for.
I probably feel completely irrational because I am irrational. God, wouldn't my psychology teacher be proud of me..... There's some psychoanalysis Freud would be spinning in his grave over.
I hear the door open unceremoniously which clues me in immediately that it's not Lucky. Lucky, I've found, has this amazing way of creeping in, but still making his presence known. Whoever it is-- it's not Lucky.
But it jolts me anyway.
It's really incredible how if, you lay still enough for a long time and let the silence turn into your own personal tension, anything can shock you. And not just emotional shock-- physical-- like someone's run a volt of electricity through you.
The mind-body connection is a hell of a thing isn't it? Or maybe it's just hell.
"Hey Em."
Oh. Dear. Lord.
Mentally, I turn heavenward. I can practically hear the great deity himself-- laughing his ass off. That is if God has an ass.... hmm.... Maybe someday when I break out of the sanitarium I'll become a philosopher.
This is the last thing I need--
"Listen Em-- I know you've been peeved at me lately--"
'peeved'? *peeved*? Well gee golly Mr. Quartermaine, I didn't mean to be*peeved* at you--
"But look, I know we don't agree on a lot of the things going on at home right now, but I need you there. You know Michael, and he trusts you-- and as much as I know you like to prove your point you still help a lot. He needs you."
My head feels thick and painful and I fight the urge to crush it between my hands. I'm so TIRED of this! I want to scream-- really loud. Louder than I ever could. Louder then physically possible.
Loud enough to make AJ's ears bleed.
Michael, Michael, Michael.... It's like a mantra in my head. I have to go back to him. I have to save him.
How am I supposed to save him if I can't save myself?
Why can't I just be completely self-absorbed? God, some people say I already am... Might as well live up to it..... I'm tired of thinking of Michael-- and I'm tired of feeling bad for being tired of it. I'm losing my mind, and all anyone can say is 'get well for Michael'. I am done.
I wish the finality in that statement was real.
"Em-- when you wake up, you'll realize that this is the right thing. You'll see like I did and now like everyone does-- that Jason is too dangerous for any child to be around."
Everyone?
One word-- very little meaning out of context-- or in context for that matter-- yet, somewhere deep inside I start to feel the beginnings of panic stirring at the sound of it.
"I just wish everyone else didn't have to learn it this way...."
The panic rises up seizing my stomach. I kinda feel like I'm back in 6th grade gym class-- realizing the flu is going to beat me to the bathroom. My palms feel sweaty at my sides. I need to move, but I can't.
"I'm so sorry sweetheart..... You're going to have so much to deal with when you wake up.... It's just not fair. Life's not fair."
The tears are burning behind my eyelids now and I don't even truly know what I'm fearing. 'Life's not fair'..... The words are echoing in my head-- sharp and distorted like I've shouted them down a metal hallway. It's not a voice I hear though-- the words have no voice-- they're too deep inside me. My heart is only a hard, tight lump weighing on my chest now. I feel dizzy.
I hear him sigh, his voice turning away from me.
"He was just a kid...."
My body goes cold, and mentally I feel like I've slammed myself into a wall. Empty-- I'm completely empty.....
I can still hear it: 'Life's not fair'..... 'life's not fair'....
I know now-- I know what I felt-- it wasn't my imagination..... I was dying.
And so was he.
Chapter 15
It's uncontrollable-- this overwhelming desire to cry, and scream, and--
I don't know-- die?
It sounds so trivial when I think of it like that, but in some way, that's the only thing it feels like-- like the will to live was simply a fleeting thought I had a million centuries ago in another life, in another time, another portal of space---
The swirling ill feeling is still with me though slightly subdued now. Subdued. Now that's the word for it-- dead but still alive-- and slightly curious. Why *do* I suddenly feel like--
Whatever it is I can't find the word for.
I probably feel completely irrational because I am irrational. God, wouldn't my psychology teacher be proud of me..... There's some psychoanalysis Freud would be spinning in his grave over.
I hear the door open unceremoniously which clues me in immediately that it's not Lucky. Lucky, I've found, has this amazing way of creeping in, but still making his presence known. Whoever it is-- it's not Lucky.
But it jolts me anyway.
It's really incredible how if, you lay still enough for a long time and let the silence turn into your own personal tension, anything can shock you. And not just emotional shock-- physical-- like someone's run a volt of electricity through you.
The mind-body connection is a hell of a thing isn't it? Or maybe it's just hell.
"Hey Em."
Oh. Dear. Lord.
Mentally, I turn heavenward. I can practically hear the great deity himself-- laughing his ass off. That is if God has an ass.... hmm.... Maybe someday when I break out of the sanitarium I'll become a philosopher.
This is the last thing I need--
"Listen Em-- I know you've been peeved at me lately--"
'peeved'? *peeved*? Well gee golly Mr. Quartermaine, I didn't mean to be*peeved* at you--
"But look, I know we don't agree on a lot of the things going on at home right now, but I need you there. You know Michael, and he trusts you-- and as much as I know you like to prove your point you still help a lot. He needs you."
My head feels thick and painful and I fight the urge to crush it between my hands. I'm so TIRED of this! I want to scream-- really loud. Louder than I ever could. Louder then physically possible.
Loud enough to make AJ's ears bleed.
Michael, Michael, Michael.... It's like a mantra in my head. I have to go back to him. I have to save him.
How am I supposed to save him if I can't save myself?
Why can't I just be completely self-absorbed? God, some people say I already am... Might as well live up to it..... I'm tired of thinking of Michael-- and I'm tired of feeling bad for being tired of it. I'm losing my mind, and all anyone can say is 'get well for Michael'. I am done.
I wish the finality in that statement was real.
"Em-- when you wake up, you'll realize that this is the right thing. You'll see like I did and now like everyone does-- that Jason is too dangerous for any child to be around."
Everyone?
One word-- very little meaning out of context-- or in context for that matter-- yet, somewhere deep inside I start to feel the beginnings of panic stirring at the sound of it.
"I just wish everyone else didn't have to learn it this way...."
The panic rises up seizing my stomach. I kinda feel like I'm back in 6th grade gym class-- realizing the flu is going to beat me to the bathroom. My palms feel sweaty at my sides. I need to move, but I can't.
"I'm so sorry sweetheart..... You're going to have so much to deal with when you wake up.... It's just not fair. Life's not fair."
The tears are burning behind my eyelids now and I don't even truly know what I'm fearing. 'Life's not fair'..... The words are echoing in my head-- sharp and distorted like I've shouted them down a metal hallway. It's not a voice I hear though-- the words have no voice-- they're too deep inside me. My heart is only a hard, tight lump weighing on my chest now. I feel dizzy.
I hear him sigh, his voice turning away from me.
"He was just a kid...."
My body goes cold, and mentally I feel like I've slammed myself into a wall. Empty-- I'm completely empty.....
I can still hear it: 'Life's not fair'..... 'life's not fair'....
I know now-- I know what I felt-- it wasn't my imagination..... I was dying.
And so was he.