JOURNAL
Notes

Log Entry 008

Department: Hideout
Location: undefined reference

the "SARENTU": They never really say it. They're like that, you know, kind in their quietness (like Ri'nela), or in emptiness of their expectations. They think I don't notice it, but I do, and it shows. It shows in the way Alma fusses over me more than anyone else. Or that, when decision time comes, Nor's eyes never meet mine. Even if (though I'm a little embarrassed to admit it), I'd like like him to it would be nice.

Memory's still a bit foggy but it's a bit clearer now. I recall 'the room' somewhat when it was still more-or-less intact. I don't really care for its aes-thet-ics (what tricky spelling). We're not the picky sort, I mean… we spend spent our nights on bunkbeds before we made it out of that place. To a place worth "getting back to" (Alma's words), and our hard-earned freedom. A condition we slept through.

Now, sitting in what Alma calls "the Resistance Hideout", surrounded by human-speak and technology, writing this entry (and in English), it barely feels that we– that I left at all. Teylan looks happy. He's comfortable here, among people I'm pretty sure he hopes to consider his friends one day. Ri'nela… not so much, I think, even with Alma trying to ease her in. I'd say she's faring. But Nor? Nor… something's different about him. I can feel it. He might not easily tell, but I've gotten pretty good at reading his moods lately. And right now, I can kind of see it in his eyes, that something's up. Nor gets this same dangerous shine every time he talks about being free. About being Na'vi. You'd think something like that would come naturally to the "Sarentu". Yeah, right. Maybe some of us.

If it did, it would to a leader. To a fighter. To a survivor. Definitely to someone like Nor (it already does), and not a… coward like me.

Yeah, a coward. Because that's who I am.

They never really say it. They're like that, kind and quiet, but I know that they think it. I can tell. Teylan's bed-wetting's got nothing on me, because Teylan, at least, he means well. To protect us, in whatever way he knows best. Just like the rest of my friends.

In the end of the day, when the siren rings and we are locked in the cryo-room against Alma's good intentions, I'm not surprised that Nor doesn't glance at me once. I'm not even in his peripheral vision. Nor doesn't see me. At all.

"Let us go, we can take them!" He exclaims. "We can escape! To Pandora!"

And then – it's Ri'nela he turns to (of course, it is). It's her shoulder he touches. It's Teylan he appeals to. Them – not me. I might as well be invisible.

I am.

Alma's frantic. "There are soldiers everywhere."

She won't have it. He persists.

"This is our chance to be free."

Even Teylan, as conflicted as he is, musters the courage to pull Nor away from the door. Influence him, somehow. It doesn't matter whether Teylan trusts Director Mercer right now, he's trying. Unlike me, who's… I'm just standing there.

When Nor finally looks at me… disappointment stings. It's unmistakable. His eyes are filled with cold anger and dismissal. He doesn't say it, but I know he's thinking it. That I'm incapable.

He's not wrong.

I was just as incapable a few minutes earlier in the classroom, when Director Mercer spoke.

No hesitation in his voice. "You know what to do."

When the Director walks away and the RDA soldiers take their positions, everyone knows what's going to happen. Even so, it's Nor's who's standing in front of us all. It's always Nor. Readied, with Ri'nela behind his back. And Teylan beside them.

How did it happen? That in matter of seconds I find myself hiding behind everyone else?

They'll fight, protect each other, die for each other, and I… I'm always left playing catch up. I don't even remember the last time someone called me by my name. My real name. "You". It's always "you", and all the rest choose to see is this mark.

Sometimes, I wonder if… it should have been me in your place. I... miss you. If anyone deserves to be here, it's you.

I wish you were.