CH.3 Never Good Enough
First the pain came. Then the light. Then the voices. Then finally the whole thoughts.
He peeled his aching eyes open but only saw blurs of color against the bright background. He heard his name, a couple "Are you alright?"'s, and quite a few "Answer us!"'s, but he didn't answer them. For a moment he wondered where that feeling had gone, the one he'd had before. But the fleeting thought left before it even registered.
A moment later he was pulled into a sitting position as someone patted his back harshly. He coughed and pushed the body away pathetically.
"M'a fine..." he muttered, closing his eyes and rubbing them. When he looked around again the blurs had become watery, but discernible shapes.
There was Mr. Shorty, from class... Mrs. Tess... That girl that sat across from him in class... and--
"Danny-boy... 'Sup?" Daxter's voice echoed his dry throat. Suddenly another woman appeared, a red-head, with a glass.
"Drink it," she ordered. Daxter raised a brow but took the glass.
"Dominatrix..." he muttered inaudibly. But the woman still gave him a look as if she'd heard him. Daxter looked for a moment into the glass. It was water. Wasn't it? It looked murky. White murky. Like when his mom took ant-acids. Why were they giving him ant-acids?
"Drink it," the woman repeated, louder. Daxter rolled his eyes and raised the glass to his lips. But he wasn't in the mood for medicine.
He swallowed. But not the water.
He took the glass away and looked around. The faces softened. They'd fallen for it.
Suddenly Daniel's face broke into a grin. "Thank goodness you're ok, Dax! We were so worri--"
"Mmm..." Daxter eyes were glued to the white water in the glass he twirled around in his hands. It smelled funny.
Daniel's face fell. He tried again. "You were gone for awhile, we thou--"
The red-head's eyes stayed on the glass.
"...Dax?"
"C'mon, buddy..."
That same voice.
"Hey..."
Where was that coming from?
It wasn't in the room... was it?
"Dax, it's me--"
Who?
Who are you?
How do you know me?
...Do you know me?
"Daxter." He jumped as a hand fell on his shoulder. Looking up tiredly, he saw the small man looking at him intently. "Are you alright, boy?"
No. No, I'm not ok. I don't feel alright. I feel terrible. Lost. Not right.
But why? I'm here. I'm home. I'm alive. Away from that mon--
"Sure." Daxter flashed his almost-normal toothy grin. "I'm just fine." I'm not fine. "Just a little tired, 's all." So tired.
The man forced a small smile and nodded his head, standing straight and removing his hand from it's perch. The other's moved and Daxter worked his way onto his feet. Without another word, he placed the glass on the stand beside the bed and walked out of the hospital-like room.
----------
He stood staring for a long while at the black hole in front of him.
It wasn't threatening, not dangerous looking at all. And yet, the pale red stripes leading down into the darkness reminded the red-head of something he wanted to forget...
...because it made him remember.
But remember what? He wasn't sure. But he knew there was something there. Just behind his eyes, on the tip of his tongue. And that something had to do with the White Thing. The thing that had attacked him so fiercely. That had laid so close to him. That, at one point, had almost seemed so... so...
...Helpless? Hopeless?
With a sigh, Daxter turned and sulked down the street. Away from the hole. Away from the memories. The feelings.
In so long he had refused to allow himself to feel anything. He let small, poisonous leaks creep into his mask, but only enough for it to awaken and smile. But only smile.
This was ok, right? It was ok to feel this way... right?
----------
That night he didn't sleep. It didn't feel right. Too cold. Too lumpy. Too... lonely.
Daxter groaned and rolled over to glare at the ceiling. What, now he was thinking about SEX?!
No. Not that. Not quite. Something else. But it was still...
Not there. Not where it should be. Not... here.
Daxter hugged himself and pulled the covers closer to him. These strange thoughts were racing through his mind and he wasn't sure how to stop them. To make them go away.
...But...
...Did he want them to go away...?
Yes! Of course he did! This whole thing was getting in the way of his life!
...Why does that word seem so distant, all of a sudden?
Life.
Life.
L-i-f-e.
Just a four letter word. It doesn't mean much.
So why was he getting so worked up over everything? All it had to do with was his life.
His life.
Life.
Back to that word again.
Why did he always come back to it? Was it important?
Life. The noun for live. Live.
L-i-v-e.
Live life.
Life... with...
"...you?" Daxter squinted his eyes. Had the White Thing said something to him? He must have. Didn't he? But what had he said? When had he said it? Why?
The boy shook his head violently and flipped himself onto his stomach, snapping his eyes shut and pulling his pillow over his head. Why were these thoughts coming to him? Why now?! He just wanted to go to sleep! Just sleep!
S-l-e-e-p!
Slumber!
Nighty-night!
Sleep!
Sleep...!
Sleep.
Sleep...
Slee... Sl... s... s...
----------
He was rambling again, Daniel was. Sometimes he was a complete bore. Especially when he talked about supposedly important issues. Things that bored Daxter. To tears.
He jumped when the bell rang. Daniel laughed and ran to his seat. Daxter laid his head on his crossed arms on his desk and sighed. Everybody seemed to find him funny, for one reason or another. Everybody but the White Thing. Everything but the White Thing. But could the White Thing laugh? Could it find something funny? Could it... he even give a smile other than the venomous, toothy, monstrous grin he shot when they first met?
Within a few noisy minutes the small tormentor had made his way through the wooden porte and had taken his place upon his step stool. A quick glance at the lazing Daxter told him more than any question he could ask. Positioning his spectacles on his pug-nose, he opened the large textbook on the podium facing him and instructed the class to do the same. But the red-head gazed defyingly out the window.
"Good morning, everyone. We'll continue with our plant unit, so if you'll get out you packets from yesterday..."
And on the class went. But our red-head was untouched by the words that floated against his ears. Images of the mysterious white shadow entrapped his thoughts in such depth that no amount of murmurs could rouse him. A rather loud voice, however, could.
"Daxter," the voice hissed, "Would you please pay attention?!"
The red-head shifted slightly, but didn't look at the man.
"Daxter, get out your homework."
"I don't have it."
"What was that?"
"I forgot it."
The professor was about to speak when another student interupted. "You always forget your stuff!" the boy chimed. The class erupted in laughter.
But Daxter remained quiet. He didn't notice Daniel watching him with sorrowful eyes from across the room. Nor did he notice the small man he spoke so quietly to do the same. He never noticed. He only noticed the terrible things they said. They things they did. Not so quietly, but louder, loud enough to catch his attention. But such subtlety of kindness eluded him.
"Alright, Daxter, then get out some paper. You can take notes and bring in your packet tomorrow."
"No."
"What?"
"No."
"Daxter, I think I'm being very lenient with you today." Only today? "I would appreciate it if you would do what I say." "Why should I? "Daxter are you listening?" No. "Daxter." You don't know me. "Daxter-" Why do you pretend to know what's best for me? "Daxter!" I won't let you treat me like this. "Daxter, this is very disappointing." I always disappoint you. "Do you hear me, young man?" I wish I didn't. "If you don't do as I say I--"
"You'll what?"
"Excuse me?"
"What, you'll beat me?" His voice filled with the acid that seeped from his every pour. "You'll flunk me? Tell my parents?" His blue eyes floated to where the man stood. "What can you do?"
The man's eyes narrowed with anger. He snorted. "I'm disappointed, Daxter. Here I thought you--"
"Oh shut up!!!" The boy suddenly slammed his palms on the desk, pushing himself away from his chair. "I'll just never be good enough for you, will I?! You just can't accept that I'm NEVER going to listen to you!!! I hate you!! I hate you ALL!!!"
The room fell into an astonished silence as the boy's awkward feet carried him quickly out the door, which he promptly slammed behind him. Daniel stood, awaiting any word to chase his friend.
"God, what's his problem?" A few muffled and crude comments echoed the room and the boy looked to his teacher. The man nodded solemnly an in a second Daniel was out of the room.
----------
Daxter's jaw clenched and ground his teeth as he stormed down the hallway. He watched his feet in their haste, making sure he tripped over nothing.
Who did that man think he was? His father?! He couldn't just order people around like that!!
He'd get his, the boy assured himself as he slithered down the empty hallways, he'd make sure of that himself! Even if he had t--
"OOF!!" The redhead's hands came up to catch his balance as he bounced off the wall he'd run into. But he was sure he'd been watching where he was going. Why would a wall—?
"He—" Daxter's words stopped as he looked up into the deep blue eyes that stared down at him inquisitively. After a moment he realized walls didn't have eyes, so he blinked and refocused his view. Realization dawned on him that he'd run into another person as he recognized the tan skin and long face the eyes were set into. Just above a pointed chin sat two thin lips and an upturned nose, slightly on the wide side. Shocking blond hair jutted out of the other boy's head in short spikes, save a few strands falling into his face.
"Er... Sorry, there, buddy. Didn't see ya..." Daxter spoke slowly as his cheeks tinted in his embarrassment. But the blond only stared down at him knowingly. Suddenly a familiar voice pierced his ears.
"Daxter! What are you doing out of class?" Short blue-green hair came into view as bright green eyes blinked at the red-head.
"Kiera? Well, I could ask you the same question!" he replied.
She chuckled, taking hold of a masculine arm connected to the blond. "I'm showing Jack around," she giggled, sending more than innocent glances the boy's way.
Daxter's brow frowned. He had to admit Kiera was a catch and a half, by this school's murky standards. But to see her throwing herself out like some window-order whor-- "Jack, huh?"
"Yup. He's a new student. See his name tag?" She pointed to a small white strip on his shirt.
Daxter squinted at the name. "Uh, I think you spelled that wrong, Hun," he said.
"Huh?" She suddenly noticed what he'd been seeing and giggled. "No, silly! That's how it's spelled!"
One of Daxter's eyebrows raised itself. "Reeeeally? Well, then I've been spelling it wrong my entire life."
Kiera burst into fits of giggles again. It was starting to get annoying. "No, silly! That's just how he spells it!"
The red-head's eyes jerked up to the blond, who shrugged. Daxter shook his head. "Well, Jak, nice to meet you." He bowed slightly. The other boy seemed a little unsure, but nodded in response.
Suddenly Kiera spoke again; "So what are you doing out of class, Daxter?"
He scoffed. "Nothing. Bathroom."
Kiera stiffened. "Oh! Well, sorry we got in your way... C'mon, Jak! I'll show you the gym next!" As the girl pulled at the blond's arm, Daxter watched them out of the corner of his eye. He noticed Jak look back at him and their eyes met. It would seem cliche, when he thought back to it later, but right now he swore he saw... Something. Something familiar. Familiar enough to make him raise his head and look straight at the guy. So familiar it felt like it was going to jump out and attack him.
Why did those eyes haunt him so?