Post by #lastofmykind on Aug 20, 2015 18:30:05 GMT -6
“You know, this is the most time we’ve spent together since I was a kid. Probably the most quality conversation you and I have ever had too. I know that logic dictates I shouldn’t care you’re gone, but you are and I just wish you could’ve been there to see me win this title, or even defend it a few weeks ago. I’m just starting to think I’m getting somewhere and I’m doing awesome things, but you’re not here to see I’m finally okay. All I ever really wanted was to show you I could be somebody, even if it wasn’t who you wanted. I never wanted to be a Marine or in the Armed Forces. I just wanted to do something that was good for me. Now you’re gone and I’m here and I don’t even know what I can do to show you that I did learn from you.”
I’m rambling, I know I am. I’m rambling so much, I forget what time it is, and I get the obligatory “GET THE FUCK TO THE DOJO!” text from Siobhan.
Guess it’s showtime.
Wins and losses have never really mattered to me in this sport. When you’re not even emotionally attached to it, you find that you can shrug off a loss without an issue.
Maybe that’s the lie. I do care about this job, even more now that I’m the World Champion. The fact that I can’t sleep has nothing to do with what happened with Elizabeth Lannister. Quite frankly, I dropped the ball and deserved to take the loss. That doesn’t mean she earned it. Even little weasels get what they’re looking for on occasions. I don’t even know if I’m really bothered by what NoVaK showed me. People try to get in the other person’s head constantly. It’s why Cassidy targeted Cailey when her and I were dating. It was why the Sisters of Sin tried to take out my friends.
What’s shaking me is the weird ringing in my head. I haven’t thought about it much, but the possibility that I have a concussion is likely. I don’t trust the hospital, and considering my desire to stay out of them, I’m probably better off heading to the dojo or making a call to someone else I know. The call is a no brainer.
“Dok, it’s Carey,” I say when I get the voicemail. “I don’t know what’s going on, but if you and/or Cyril could teleport or head over to the warehouse, something ain’t right. I’m feeling too dizzy to drive and I’m not sure what to do. I haven’t been able to sleep the past couple of nights, but that’s nothing new to me. I don’t know, just don’t tell Siobhan but I think someth--Logan, let me call you back, I think I see something at my window.”
I’m on the upper level of the warehouse, and as I’m looking out to see what’s going on, it’s like it’s something out of nowhere. Things like a solar eclipse are told about ahead of time, but it’s like something’s trying to block out the sun, trying to blacken the sky, and I’m so confused.
And that’s when I hear it. Static.
Noise.
It’s like someone just turned on an old radio and found a frequency with nothing but white noise, and I absentmindedly answer my phone when it’s Cyril calling me back.
“Carey, it’s Cyril. Logan asked me to call you after he got your message. Do you need me to come over? I didn’t see a shot last night that looked like you had a concussion, but I can swing by,” he says, but I’m just nodding.
“Uh huh,” I say and I still seem to be looking out my window and up to the sky. It’s like a thousand points of light and they’re adding up into something.
“Carey, what’s the address?” he asks.
“Uh huh,” I say, but I can barely hear him, so I talk louder. “CALL ME BACK, I CAN’T HEAR YOU,” I say before I can feel it. Something isn’t right. It’s not just a physical right, but soul right. I don’t want to scare Siobhan, she doesn’t need that. What I’m feeling doesn’t necessarily mean that she has to be afraid of it, so it’s why she’s not the first person I ask for.
Michael Sharp, one of the few people I know I can rely on.
The message is out, but I can feel myself shaking, almost as if it’s trying to match the frequency of whatever noise I’m hearing is coming from.
And then, here it comes.
I can’t feel my body right now. Something about what’s going on has me feeling like a passenger in my own skin, but I can still feel everything. I can feel everything coursing through me, and it feels like fire. It’s burning me alive from the inside out, and at the risk of sounding over dramatic, I know that my body isn’t literally on fire, but something isn’t right. I’ve done some crazy things before, drugs that have made my body feel all sorts of things. I’ve been on muscle relaxers that make my body feel like it weighs a ton and I don’t want to move, but this? This hurts in ways I’ve never hurt before. It’s like everything is crawling in my skin, and all I see?
Stars.
A million miles of stars.
When I keep trying to swim my way through whatever I’m in, I’m still trying to find a way out, but it’s like I’m drowning in a pool, but it’s all black with these stars the only source of light.
And I hear him.
“Take it. It’s yours. All you have to do is reach out and touch it. It’s screaming for you, Carey. All you’ve wanted to do from the start was know your enemy, and here you are. Here we are, and I am going to save you from your wicked ways,” I hear, and I feel like I’m still trying to catch some form of oxygen.
“Open your heart to the stars, Carey. Wait for the Supernova,” I hear, and as I’m going into convulsions and struggling, I look in the mirror and I see it.
Somewhere, in between the blackness of where I think I’m drowning, and in reality, I see us as one in the same.
NoVaK, the Ghost in the Shell.
CaReY, the Ghost in the Machine.
“HELP ME!!!!!!!!!” I scream before falling and curling up. I don’t know how long I fell, but it couldn’t have been that long with the fact that I was only on my feet. It feels like longer, and before I know it, Naiser and Starfish have burst into the warehouse, everyone else not far behind.
And as I slowly start returning to my body, I’m traumatized by the fact that I don’t know how I got back here, what happened, and why everyone is looking down at me.
A few hours later, I’m sitting on a couch and I look up at Logan with a small smile on my face.
“I owe you, Dok. You and Cyril,” I tell him.
“Just let him take the MRI and see what’s going on. The last thing this place needs right now is a case of Folie à deux when it comes to you and NoVaK,” Logan says, and he places a hand on my shoulder. “I can’t pinpoint anything, and maybe that’s the worrying part.”
“I need someone to help me out with anything. This tattoo, whatever that starchild is doing to my head. The past few weeks have been such a strange trip for me and I don’t get it anymore,” I lament as I look up to him. “I feel like I’m stuck in the middle of some strange cosmic game, Dok. Why can’t I get some answers?” I ask and he just frowns.
“Carey, when I say this to you, it’s not anything malicious. There’s not a lot of things an average person was meant to know,” he tells me, his smile fading.
“I’m speaking in strange tongues and I have some strange tattoo I vaguely remember getting. I highly think I’m past the point of being an average person anymore. I’m making friends with you and a Drago--” I say before he puts his hands up.
“Say it right, Carey,” he says as he gives me his usual grin.
“Okay. A DRAGON SATAN,” I say, rubbing my temple.
“Much better!” he says, adding a thumbs up.
“Logan, my life has become so fucking strange the past year. From whatever happened encountering the Frosts to now, I don’t think I’m an average person anymore. I don’t know what I am, to be honest,” I say as he looks at me.
“I think you’re someone who’s going to turn out just fine,” he tells me, and I’m genuinely surprised that he’s got my side.
“Thanks, Logan,” I say quietly, shrugging off the blanket they covered me with after the seizure. Siobhan looks at me and she’s got watery eyes which means I’m gonna try to settle it now when I go over there.
“Irish, it’s not as bad as you think,” I say, before she turns around to me.
“Carey, I saw you there on the ground in convulsions and talking like...like...like him. He’s in your head, or whatever he’s got, he’s passing to you. Don’t you think that’s a little bit of a problem?” she asks.
“I can handle it, I promise!” I tell her, and she’s not buying it.
“Carey Linus Caldwell!” she snaps, slapping me across the face. “I have been dragged to hell the past month with all we’ve been through and me own cousin going missing! Do not tell me these things when WE ARE A TEAM! Please Carey...don’t make me break our promise.”
“Don’t say it, Irish,” I say quietly.
“Then don’t give me a reason to break it. Carey, you’ve done this song and dance before. You can let me in. You can get us to have your back. Just please tell me what I can do for you,” she says quietly.
“Believe in me and have a little faith I’m strong enough not to let him get to me,” I whisper, kissing her forehead. “Until the bitter end,” I whisper in her ear.
“You make me break this promise, and I’m going to lob your balls off, Caldwell,” she says, burying her head in my neck. “Until the bitter end.”
It’s not often old meets new here, but Gunnar and Naiser are getting their first glimpses of the old guard with Michael Sharp here. Siobhan and Chris have already met him, and I sigh when we’re all there, everyone nursing a beer.
“Sorry I never made it to the services for your dad,” Sharp tells me and I nod.
“It’s fine. Wasn’t anything spectacular. Was mostly people I knew there anyways. Pops was never the most liked man,” I mumble while I sigh.
“But if anything, it shows we are family and we are unbreakable,” Gunnar says, holding up his beer.
“Sharpie, if you got something new to bring to the table about my mark or why I’m dealing with the sounds of science invading my brain like a parasite, this would be a great time to fill me in. I’m going to let Cyril have a look at my noodle in the morning. Anything that can get me back into the game and get me out of all the mess would be fucking amazing,” I tell him before I glance at him.
“Carey, that tattoo is a mark that Hal Snyder put on you. One of twelve. Strike’s got one, and there’s quite a few people floating around this neck of the woods with them. That moth girl, Magdalena Lasiewicz, one of the Collins siblings, you, and others. There’s quite a few, and it’s not good. Someone’s trying to harvest them, and five bucks says you know who’s in Strike’s head,” he says.
“That fucking witch,” I mumble, starting to look angrier.
“Easy, okay? Look, I know you think he’s not on your side here, but there is a hell of a lot more than it meets the eye, so taking a deep fuckin’ breath and relaxing would be a start,” he tells me, and I scowl.
“I got a space bug and you want me to be chill about Strike?! Sharpie, you better have some answers for me that aren’t just relax, because that ain’t good enough right now. What’s worse is me wondering if this tattoo is the reason I’m getting intergalactic herpes from NoVaK!” I shout at him, and I try to take a deep breath to calm myself. “Sharpie, something is really wrong with me right now. I don’t know what it is and it’s terrifying me. See these guys? They’re basically all my family. I want to know if we’ve got any chance of beating Strike to whatever problem we’ve got on our hands and meanwhile, I’ve got my first ever MRI to figure out if I have The Clap from Mars tomorrow with Cyril. All I need to know is if we can fix it and if we can stop him. I’m tired of people not telling me shit, Sharpie. I take that from Old Man Collins because that’s what he does. I expect better from you.”
“Carey, listen to me. Here’s the story. From what my sources have gathered and a wild duck and goose chase around the globe, this entire fucking tale is something practically out of Hal Snyder’s shit stirring desire to see the profession he’s embroidered himself into so deeply and perhaps the world itself altered in his image. The demon book that your kid Zinkus sent my way with translations has been helpful in figuring specifics. There are twelve of these fuckers around, each of them giving the person wearing it some weird affinity to do shit better or have powers. I wouldn’t know because I don’t carry one of these fuckers around...but the big thing here? All twelve of them get harvested, there’s a particular spell in that book that will fuse them all together and grant the asshole who uttered every word of it unfathomable power. And quite frankly? I’ve read enough reports on the whole Perfect Evil saga long before your friend Evie got it all under control...we’re looking at something FAR more catastrophic if this happens. There’s no doubt in my mind that Reika Seragaki is trying to use to her advantage, pronouns be damned, the goddamned rodent tumblr child. The only problem is that we have no fucking idea where Chris’ head is on all of this...and he has one of those fuckers himself. So, really, while I’d love to tell you all that he’s a War Machine through and through...not even I’m so fucking sure anymore these days.”
Sharp takes a deep breath, glancing around as if looking for the nearest drink...then realizing he already has a beer in hand, taking a long, dragged out swig from it before speaking up again.
“I’ll speak to the man myself tomorrow...and either I find out what the hell drove him to where he felt the need to betray this entire family we have here...or I basically declare full-fledged war on the fucker myself along with the rest of you.”
“Well,” I mumble before getting up and walking away.
“Carey, listen. Maybe this is best thing for us. Maybe it’s time we work on trying to do the right thing for everyone,” Gunnar says to me and I shoot him a look.
“So you guys think beating Strike to this bullshit is gonna stop him? You think any of this is gonna matter? Strike needs to be taken out before he becomes as bad as Furor. Each and every one of you, look around us! If it ain’t the Pantheon, it’s REVOLUTION. And if it ain’t either of them, it’s something or someone else. We might not be the Seikigun, but we can still make a fuckin’ difference here. And if what I got is gonna turn me into whatever Space Jam is...then at least I’m getting you all on the right path before I become an alien. And on that day, I need you guys to take me down. I need to go for a walk,” I say before I get up and walk away. It’s the first time I can recall getting up and walking off on my crew, because I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Imagine knowing that your body is fucked up and nobody can tell you what’s going on with it. Heading back upstairs, I don’t know if I’m more alarmed that it’s actually become night outside and I can see stars or that my whole day has wasted away into a fight for what’s inside my head.
I have seen Matthew Novak. I have gazed into the same heart of darkness that turned a good kid into The Supernova, and unless I find something in me capable of stopping this, I might just be next. I know for a fact I’m not going to be able to fall asleep tonight, it’s pretty obvious. However, when I look out at the stars tonight, they don’t mean the same thing. They’re not lights guiding me home or a trail to make a wish on.
They’re the potential ocean I may just drown in if I can’t sort my head out.
I’m rambling, I know I am. I’m rambling so much, I forget what time it is, and I get the obligatory “GET THE FUCK TO THE DOJO!” text from Siobhan.
Guess it’s showtime.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wins and losses have never really mattered to me in this sport. When you’re not even emotionally attached to it, you find that you can shrug off a loss without an issue.
Maybe that’s the lie. I do care about this job, even more now that I’m the World Champion. The fact that I can’t sleep has nothing to do with what happened with Elizabeth Lannister. Quite frankly, I dropped the ball and deserved to take the loss. That doesn’t mean she earned it. Even little weasels get what they’re looking for on occasions. I don’t even know if I’m really bothered by what NoVaK showed me. People try to get in the other person’s head constantly. It’s why Cassidy targeted Cailey when her and I were dating. It was why the Sisters of Sin tried to take out my friends.
What’s shaking me is the weird ringing in my head. I haven’t thought about it much, but the possibility that I have a concussion is likely. I don’t trust the hospital, and considering my desire to stay out of them, I’m probably better off heading to the dojo or making a call to someone else I know. The call is a no brainer.
“Dok, it’s Carey,” I say when I get the voicemail. “I don’t know what’s going on, but if you and/or Cyril could teleport or head over to the warehouse, something ain’t right. I’m feeling too dizzy to drive and I’m not sure what to do. I haven’t been able to sleep the past couple of nights, but that’s nothing new to me. I don’t know, just don’t tell Siobhan but I think someth--Logan, let me call you back, I think I see something at my window.”
I’m on the upper level of the warehouse, and as I’m looking out to see what’s going on, it’s like it’s something out of nowhere. Things like a solar eclipse are told about ahead of time, but it’s like something’s trying to block out the sun, trying to blacken the sky, and I’m so confused.
And that’s when I hear it. Static.
Noise.
It’s like someone just turned on an old radio and found a frequency with nothing but white noise, and I absentmindedly answer my phone when it’s Cyril calling me back.
“Carey, it’s Cyril. Logan asked me to call you after he got your message. Do you need me to come over? I didn’t see a shot last night that looked like you had a concussion, but I can swing by,” he says, but I’m just nodding.
“Uh huh,” I say and I still seem to be looking out my window and up to the sky. It’s like a thousand points of light and they’re adding up into something.
“Carey, what’s the address?” he asks.
“Uh huh,” I say, but I can barely hear him, so I talk louder. “CALL ME BACK, I CAN’T HEAR YOU,” I say before I can feel it. Something isn’t right. It’s not just a physical right, but soul right. I don’t want to scare Siobhan, she doesn’t need that. What I’m feeling doesn’t necessarily mean that she has to be afraid of it, so it’s why she’s not the first person I ask for.
Michael Sharp, one of the few people I know I can rely on.
The message is out, but I can feel myself shaking, almost as if it’s trying to match the frequency of whatever noise I’m hearing is coming from.
And then, here it comes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I can’t feel my body right now. Something about what’s going on has me feeling like a passenger in my own skin, but I can still feel everything. I can feel everything coursing through me, and it feels like fire. It’s burning me alive from the inside out, and at the risk of sounding over dramatic, I know that my body isn’t literally on fire, but something isn’t right. I’ve done some crazy things before, drugs that have made my body feel all sorts of things. I’ve been on muscle relaxers that make my body feel like it weighs a ton and I don’t want to move, but this? This hurts in ways I’ve never hurt before. It’s like everything is crawling in my skin, and all I see?
Stars.
A million miles of stars.
When I keep trying to swim my way through whatever I’m in, I’m still trying to find a way out, but it’s like I’m drowning in a pool, but it’s all black with these stars the only source of light.
And I hear him.
“Take it. It’s yours. All you have to do is reach out and touch it. It’s screaming for you, Carey. All you’ve wanted to do from the start was know your enemy, and here you are. Here we are, and I am going to save you from your wicked ways,” I hear, and I feel like I’m still trying to catch some form of oxygen.
“Open your heart to the stars, Carey. Wait for the Supernova,” I hear, and as I’m going into convulsions and struggling, I look in the mirror and I see it.
Somewhere, in between the blackness of where I think I’m drowning, and in reality, I see us as one in the same.
NoVaK, the Ghost in the Shell.
CaReY, the Ghost in the Machine.
“HELP ME!!!!!!!!!” I scream before falling and curling up. I don’t know how long I fell, but it couldn’t have been that long with the fact that I was only on my feet. It feels like longer, and before I know it, Naiser and Starfish have burst into the warehouse, everyone else not far behind.
And as I slowly start returning to my body, I’m traumatized by the fact that I don’t know how I got back here, what happened, and why everyone is looking down at me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few hours later, I’m sitting on a couch and I look up at Logan with a small smile on my face.
“I owe you, Dok. You and Cyril,” I tell him.
“Just let him take the MRI and see what’s going on. The last thing this place needs right now is a case of Folie à deux when it comes to you and NoVaK,” Logan says, and he places a hand on my shoulder. “I can’t pinpoint anything, and maybe that’s the worrying part.”
“I need someone to help me out with anything. This tattoo, whatever that starchild is doing to my head. The past few weeks have been such a strange trip for me and I don’t get it anymore,” I lament as I look up to him. “I feel like I’m stuck in the middle of some strange cosmic game, Dok. Why can’t I get some answers?” I ask and he just frowns.
“Carey, when I say this to you, it’s not anything malicious. There’s not a lot of things an average person was meant to know,” he tells me, his smile fading.
“I’m speaking in strange tongues and I have some strange tattoo I vaguely remember getting. I highly think I’m past the point of being an average person anymore. I’m making friends with you and a Drago--” I say before he puts his hands up.
“Say it right, Carey,” he says as he gives me his usual grin.
“Okay. A DRAGON SATAN,” I say, rubbing my temple.
“Much better!” he says, adding a thumbs up.
“Logan, my life has become so fucking strange the past year. From whatever happened encountering the Frosts to now, I don’t think I’m an average person anymore. I don’t know what I am, to be honest,” I say as he looks at me.
“I think you’re someone who’s going to turn out just fine,” he tells me, and I’m genuinely surprised that he’s got my side.
“Thanks, Logan,” I say quietly, shrugging off the blanket they covered me with after the seizure. Siobhan looks at me and she’s got watery eyes which means I’m gonna try to settle it now when I go over there.
“Irish, it’s not as bad as you think,” I say, before she turns around to me.
“Carey, I saw you there on the ground in convulsions and talking like...like...like him. He’s in your head, or whatever he’s got, he’s passing to you. Don’t you think that’s a little bit of a problem?” she asks.
“I can handle it, I promise!” I tell her, and she’s not buying it.
“Carey Linus Caldwell!” she snaps, slapping me across the face. “I have been dragged to hell the past month with all we’ve been through and me own cousin going missing! Do not tell me these things when WE ARE A TEAM! Please Carey...don’t make me break our promise.”
“Don’t say it, Irish,” I say quietly.
“Then don’t give me a reason to break it. Carey, you’ve done this song and dance before. You can let me in. You can get us to have your back. Just please tell me what I can do for you,” she says quietly.
“Believe in me and have a little faith I’m strong enough not to let him get to me,” I whisper, kissing her forehead. “Until the bitter end,” I whisper in her ear.
“You make me break this promise, and I’m going to lob your balls off, Caldwell,” she says, burying her head in my neck. “Until the bitter end.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s not often old meets new here, but Gunnar and Naiser are getting their first glimpses of the old guard with Michael Sharp here. Siobhan and Chris have already met him, and I sigh when we’re all there, everyone nursing a beer.
“Sorry I never made it to the services for your dad,” Sharp tells me and I nod.
“It’s fine. Wasn’t anything spectacular. Was mostly people I knew there anyways. Pops was never the most liked man,” I mumble while I sigh.
“But if anything, it shows we are family and we are unbreakable,” Gunnar says, holding up his beer.
“Sharpie, if you got something new to bring to the table about my mark or why I’m dealing with the sounds of science invading my brain like a parasite, this would be a great time to fill me in. I’m going to let Cyril have a look at my noodle in the morning. Anything that can get me back into the game and get me out of all the mess would be fucking amazing,” I tell him before I glance at him.
“Carey, that tattoo is a mark that Hal Snyder put on you. One of twelve. Strike’s got one, and there’s quite a few people floating around this neck of the woods with them. That moth girl, Magdalena Lasiewicz, one of the Collins siblings, you, and others. There’s quite a few, and it’s not good. Someone’s trying to harvest them, and five bucks says you know who’s in Strike’s head,” he says.
“That fucking witch,” I mumble, starting to look angrier.
“Easy, okay? Look, I know you think he’s not on your side here, but there is a hell of a lot more than it meets the eye, so taking a deep fuckin’ breath and relaxing would be a start,” he tells me, and I scowl.
“I got a space bug and you want me to be chill about Strike?! Sharpie, you better have some answers for me that aren’t just relax, because that ain’t good enough right now. What’s worse is me wondering if this tattoo is the reason I’m getting intergalactic herpes from NoVaK!” I shout at him, and I try to take a deep breath to calm myself. “Sharpie, something is really wrong with me right now. I don’t know what it is and it’s terrifying me. See these guys? They’re basically all my family. I want to know if we’ve got any chance of beating Strike to whatever problem we’ve got on our hands and meanwhile, I’ve got my first ever MRI to figure out if I have The Clap from Mars tomorrow with Cyril. All I need to know is if we can fix it and if we can stop him. I’m tired of people not telling me shit, Sharpie. I take that from Old Man Collins because that’s what he does. I expect better from you.”
“Carey, listen to me. Here’s the story. From what my sources have gathered and a wild duck and goose chase around the globe, this entire fucking tale is something practically out of Hal Snyder’s shit stirring desire to see the profession he’s embroidered himself into so deeply and perhaps the world itself altered in his image. The demon book that your kid Zinkus sent my way with translations has been helpful in figuring specifics. There are twelve of these fuckers around, each of them giving the person wearing it some weird affinity to do shit better or have powers. I wouldn’t know because I don’t carry one of these fuckers around...but the big thing here? All twelve of them get harvested, there’s a particular spell in that book that will fuse them all together and grant the asshole who uttered every word of it unfathomable power. And quite frankly? I’ve read enough reports on the whole Perfect Evil saga long before your friend Evie got it all under control...we’re looking at something FAR more catastrophic if this happens. There’s no doubt in my mind that Reika Seragaki is trying to use to her advantage, pronouns be damned, the goddamned rodent tumblr child. The only problem is that we have no fucking idea where Chris’ head is on all of this...and he has one of those fuckers himself. So, really, while I’d love to tell you all that he’s a War Machine through and through...not even I’m so fucking sure anymore these days.”
Sharp takes a deep breath, glancing around as if looking for the nearest drink...then realizing he already has a beer in hand, taking a long, dragged out swig from it before speaking up again.
“I’ll speak to the man myself tomorrow...and either I find out what the hell drove him to where he felt the need to betray this entire family we have here...or I basically declare full-fledged war on the fucker myself along with the rest of you.”
“Well,” I mumble before getting up and walking away.
“Carey, listen. Maybe this is best thing for us. Maybe it’s time we work on trying to do the right thing for everyone,” Gunnar says to me and I shoot him a look.
“So you guys think beating Strike to this bullshit is gonna stop him? You think any of this is gonna matter? Strike needs to be taken out before he becomes as bad as Furor. Each and every one of you, look around us! If it ain’t the Pantheon, it’s REVOLUTION. And if it ain’t either of them, it’s something or someone else. We might not be the Seikigun, but we can still make a fuckin’ difference here. And if what I got is gonna turn me into whatever Space Jam is...then at least I’m getting you all on the right path before I become an alien. And on that day, I need you guys to take me down. I need to go for a walk,” I say before I get up and walk away. It’s the first time I can recall getting up and walking off on my crew, because I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Imagine knowing that your body is fucked up and nobody can tell you what’s going on with it. Heading back upstairs, I don’t know if I’m more alarmed that it’s actually become night outside and I can see stars or that my whole day has wasted away into a fight for what’s inside my head.
I have seen Matthew Novak. I have gazed into the same heart of darkness that turned a good kid into The Supernova, and unless I find something in me capable of stopping this, I might just be next. I know for a fact I’m not going to be able to fall asleep tonight, it’s pretty obvious. However, when I look out at the stars tonight, they don’t mean the same thing. They’re not lights guiding me home or a trail to make a wish on.
They’re the potential ocean I may just drown in if I can’t sort my head out.
