See if you can find the Switchfoot lyric in this chapter. )
P.S. Where are you, Has Bei?!
Being completely and utterly alone is one of the most terrifying things anyone can experience. Mortal or otherwise, there is nothing more chilling than the thought that you are by yourself.
Try to imagine, then, what it's like to know that you'll be like that for the rest of your life.
And on top of that, the realization that you have no one to blame for it but yourself. You are all you have and all you'll have from now on, and you're your own enemy. Where can you run to escape from yourself?
It's a strange feeling, mourning. You feel as though you're the one who died because everything you feel is nothing but sadness and loneliness. Crying doesn't do anything but numb the pain until you have to face it again, and all that brings is more tears. It's an endless cycle you have to fight your way out of. You either escape or you perish, too, drowning in your own tears.
17 and I had never talked about death. Or rather, we'd never talked about it in a serious manner. I doubt he'd ever given much thought to it. That kind of thing could never bother 17, could never make him pause and look around at his life. And what would he have had to look at, anyway? What good could have come of it? It wasn't as though he would have realized what he was doing. Power, power and more power was all he desired. That, and a spot on the couch to watch his television shows.
I stayed by him throughout the night, drifting between sleep and consciousness. My mind was at war with itself; if I ever began to feel my eyelids drooping and my thoughts becoming fuzzy, somehow the realization of my brother's death would defog my head and a surge of guilt and anger would overwhelm me, reawakening me. I tried to convince myself that I was dreaming again. After all, my dreams were unusually cruel to me, and what was worse than this? Wake up, wake up, wake up... Everything seemed so scrambled around and lost.
Morning came after what seemed to be an eternity. Stiff and drowsy, I rubbed my swollen eyes with the backs of my hands, running fingers through my matted hair.
"18, what have you--?!" I'd caught him totally off guard. He'd never even suspected I'd do it.
"Oh, God." I covered my ears, squeezing my eyes shut. Don't think about it, I coaxed myself...
"You traitor...!"
"I'm not a traitor, I'm not, I'm not..." If I kept saying it, it might come true. It would all go away.
"That's why the Doctor trusted me rather than you... He saw your flaws, he saw your weaknesses; he knew they would over power you one day." He would have killed Trunks just to prove me wrong.
"SHUT UP!" I found myself on my feet, my voice louder than I'd ever heard it before. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP!"
That's right! This isn't my fault. It's his. It's his fault he's dead!
"You deserve this, 17, you hear me?!" I didn't even know what I was saying anymore. All I wanted to do was get rid of whatever guilt I was carrying, whatever I couldn't hold in anymore. "If everyone thinks I'm so fucked up, then why I am the one still functioning?! Gero didn't trust me because he knew I was dangerous, not because...not because you were more efficient, you bastard...!"
The sight of my brother's body was too much for me then. Disgusted with myself at my reaction, I turned my back to it, balling my fists and shaking with rage.
By then, sunrise was approaching, and the very idea of being in the open when the town began to stir from its sleep was anything but appealing. And yet, I could do nothing but take deep, shuddering sighs.
Where could I go? The lab wasn't home. It never had been. And what was the point of going back? Nothing of real value resided in the laboratory.
What else could I do but leave?