Disclaimer: I don't any of the characters in this story that appear in the hit syndicated TV show, Dark Angel, which are owned by James Cameron.
Summary: Just what does it feel like to be an X5? To go through they things they went through?
In My Shoes
By
Brin"Everything has been figured out, except how to live." - Jean-Paul Sartre (1905-1980
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JONDY
God, but it hurt!
I staggered down the stairs of my apartment building, teeth grinding together, head spinning, eyes bulging. I must've looked like a fucked up druggy, because several people loitering around in the lobby quickly made their exit as I made an unsuccessful attempt to walk out the door without falling.
Bat your eyes girl, be otherworldly,
count your blessings, seduce a stranger.
What's so wrong with being happy?
Kudos to those who see through sickness.
My jaw collided with the cold hard pavement, my teeth just barely avoiding biting my tongue in half. A shock of pain hits me on contact, then it spreads to the rest of my body and settles in my head. I lay there for a few minutes, just trying to breathe, as my body shook and tensed with seizures. Imagine someone grabbing a hold of your shoulders and shaking you until you pass out – that's what a seizure feels like, but without the passing out. My chest tightens with pain.
Using the doorknob to pull myself up, I rise to shaking feet and look around the dark street. It's rather quiet aside from the whores standing on the corner and, thankfully, the 24-hour illegal pharmacy across the street, disguised as a trinket store. Hoping and praying that no car will choose this moment to race down the street, I stumble across the pavement, but I take no more than five steps before I collapse once again. This time I extend my arms to catch my fall, and the pain stabs into my hands like heated steel rods.
When she woke in the morning
she knew that her life had passed her by.
And she called out a warning,
"Don't ever let life pass you by."
"Aaaah," I can hear the sound leave my lips through gritted teeth. Blood seeps from several cuts on my palms and I notice the presence of blood on my neck as well, dripping down from my jaw.
I never should've gone this long without taking my vitamins. It was stupid of me to think that since I have been able to keep my seizures under control for so long that I could get away without taking the very substance that kept them controlled. Zack had warned me against getting comfortable, but I hadn't listened. I never listen to him… or anyone, for that matter. I was set on becoming a 'normal' girl, but those stupid pills were holding me back. They are a constant reminder of the fact that I'm never going to be normal… and I had to get rid of them before they drove me to insanity.
I suggest we learn to love ourselves before it's made illegal.
When will we learn? When will we change?
Just in time to see it all fall down.
Those left standing... will make millions...
writing books on the way it should have been.
The smog-filled sky looks down at me, and I can practically hear its laughter. Yes, I'm a stupid girl. I'm a stupid slut with no future and a past that is ready to jump out and swallow me up. I can almost hear the berating. My eyes close, but my ears are ringing and my skin burns. Sweat beads form on my face and neck, mingling with blood and tears that I never intended to be there.
I could have and would have lain like that, content to die, had a group of street racers not chosen that moment to blaze down my street, lights flashing and music blaring. My head rose and I looked at them, coming towards me without a second thought. Considering how my body felt, I could have thanked them for killing me – but I didn't let them. I rolled out of the way at the last moment and they sped on, content with the fact that they had not killed me – this night, at least.
Ever since I escaped Manticore, I have been one of those barely-making it girls. I went through forty-seven foster families in three years and, when I turned fourteen, I ran off to San Francisco. After the Pulse, it wasn't hard for a girl to lie about her age to get a job. It wasn't hard to find a job, since competent workers were becoming harder to get. So I became Jenny the bartender at the gay bar on a dark, seedy street, and, for the most part, I thought I was happy.
When she woke in the morning
she knew that her life had passed her by.
And she called out a warning,
"Don't ever let life pass you by."
That is, until Zack came and warned me of my lifestyle. I had cut my hair very short so that I wouldn't overheat in the bar, exposing my barcode for the world to see. I had brushed him off with a promise to cover it up – and I did. I covered it with makeup, usually, but after awhile I decided it was too much work and grew out my hair again. By then, I was sixteen and being intently observed by my employers. I was very, very well-developed for my age, and had a naturally fit body. They approached me one night after work and asked me to dance for them… and overnight I went from Jenny the bartender to Jenny the pole dancer.
Maybe I got off on showing people what they can't have, or maybe I just liked being able to use my body for something other than bashing heads… whatever it was, I thoroughly enjoyed my job… until that day when Zane came in looking for me. He hadn't known what was coming, and I hadn't known he was there until my top was off and my panties were filled with twenties. In fact, I'm pretty sure I had tried to dance for him before I realized who it was. He had looked at me like scum on the bottom of his shoe… and I felt horrible.
Floating in this cosmic jacuzzi
we are like frogs oblivious to the water starting to boil.
No one flinches, we all float face down.
So I quit my job and became Jenny the unemployed trouble-maker. I do part-time cat burglaries for some high-paying people and sometimes I go back to the bar for part-time tending, but otherwise all I do is sulk and mope these days.
"Hey!" someone yells at me, catching my attention.
I look up, but as soon as I pull from my thoughtful reverie, the pain hits me again. I am pretty sure that being shot in the chest wouldn't be as painful as what I am going through right now. Blood is still leaking freely from my jaw, which I'm sure is cracked, and the ragged flesh of my hands sting like burns.
"Jondy," whispers a voice, and then a head appears above me.
My eyes have blurred from the pain. I can't feel my arms. I think I broke my hands. If someone were to attack me right now, I'd die trying to defend myself.
"It's me, Fin," continues the voice.
I wrack my brain as a bell rings in my mind. Fin… I remember him. Fin, one of my sisters from Manticore. She was good friends with Brin because their names rhymed… "Fin?" I blink the tears from my eyes, only to find that they won't go away. Is it raining? Maybe it is. I can't even tell.
"Hey, big sister, what're you doing out here?" I feel her arms wrap around my shoulders and lift me into a sitting position. The seizures are getting more intense. My head is about to explode, or maybe implode? I can't even tell. It feels like someone is trying to crush my skull while at the same time trying to blow it up.
"H-h-h-h-el-p-p," I stutter through chattering teeth. What I wouldn't give for a glass of milk right now.
"Don't worry, big sister," says Fin, looking at me with cobalt-blue eyes. I recognize her now. Her long black hair falls onto my damp face. Her freckles, which were more prominent when we were kids, are now faded, but it's Fin alright. She pulls a bottle from her pocket. Tryptophan. If I had the strength, I would kiss the girl. "I got your back." She leans my upper body against her and tilts my head back so that my mouth opens a bit, then taps a few pills in.
For a moment, I'm afraid I'm going to choke and die on them, but they go down with a struggle and I close my eyes to wait for the effects. They come slowly, but I am thankful that they do. It starts in my hands – they stop shaking – then moves as slowly as dripping honey to my arms, my chest, my legs… and then I'm free, besides a splitting headache and numb hands. I look up at Fin and smile. "Thanks."
When she woke in the morning
she knew that her life had passed her by.
And she called out a warning,
"Don't ever let life pass you by."
She helps me stand and up to my apartment, where she lays me on the couch, placing a light kiss on my forehead. Damn, I miss them – all of them. I'm so glad to see Fin, but I feel a bit shameful that I would rather see Max than her. I should be glad to see any of them. I don't even know if most of them are still alive. I've only been in contact with Zane, Zack, and now Fin. That's three out of the only thirteen to ever escape Manticore.
Not a very good record.
"Drink this, big sister," says Fin as she sits down and hands me a glass of water, along with some aspirin. She has something in her hand, but I'm too tired to see what it is. Seizures really sap the life out of you – they aren't just painful, they're exhausting as well. Imagine being forced to run on a treadmill for hours on end and you have the feeling of uncontrolled seizures.
"Thanks," I whisper again, my voice barely audible. I lean my head back against the arm of the couch, eyes closing.
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The next thing I know, I wake up because the sun is shining through my window onto my eyes. My body feels like hell. Despite that, I sit up and look around. Fin is nowhere in sight, but there's a note sitting on my coffee table. Saddened, I lean forward and pick it up. It reads:
Dear Jondy,
Sorry for skipping town so quickly, but I had to go meet up with Lee in LA.
Talk to you later,
Fin
I put the note back and sigh. Maybe I should go back to being Jenny the bartender. After all, what's living without a life?