holmium42
(?)Community Member
Offline
- Report Post
- Posted: Fri, 18 Jul 2014 00:00:22 +0000
A shallow breath. It is very quiet. Two chairs, one across from the other, both occupied, a desk, a decade, and a diploma separating the two occupants:
A boy, not old, not so young anymore, should be on his way to college soon. His back presses up against the chair, face carefully held blank, eyes locked on the man in front of him.
A doctor across from him, suit wrinkling, glasses slightly askew, hair just graying. He pushes forward, eager as a child, his torso stretching across his desk as much as the chair will allow, his hands folded in front of him as though praying.
“Zee,” the doctor begins, “Zee.”
“Leave me alone.” It comes out sharper than Zee had meant. Something flashes across the boy’s face. It is—yes, maybe… it is…
“Is that one of them?” the doctor asks. “Sid, is that you?”
“Shut the ******** up.” Zee is slipping. Sid wants out. “There is no Sid.” That is a lie. “Look, I’m fine, okay? Just leave me alone, okay?” His voice gets louder, less a question, more a demand. The boy is pressing forward towards the other man, nostrils flaring, eyes in a glare.
The doctor clicks his pens and waits. The boy struggles for a moment, fingers twitching, slowly pulling himself back into his chair, slowly crossing his arms over his chest. His lips are moving faintly, his face vaguely contorting.
“Can you tell me why you’re upset?” the doctor asks calmly.
“I don’t understand why I’m here,” the boy pushes his chin out ever so slightly, posture somewhat straighter, voice strong. “Can I just go home? I’m fine, we have homework—“ the boy clamps his mouth shut.
“‘We’?” one of the doctor’s eyebrows arches in generic expression of a question. “Tell me about this ‘we,’ Ghost.”
“Who’s Ghost?” the boy asks, feigning confusion. This is an old game; the doctor waits impatiently, tapping his fingers lightly against the desk.
“You’re not protecting him, Ghost,” the doctor sounds… tired. “Hiding the problem doesn’t make it go away.” The boy’s face twitches. Wrong word.
“So we’re a ‘problem’ now? We’re people. You’re telling him he should, what? Just—just kill us off like we’re nothing, discard us like used tissues after we stop being convenient. So I’m nothing, then?”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” The doctor exhales. “Ghost…”
“Sid,” he corrects angrily, then lets out a dry laugh. “You know, it’s funny…nobody cared about Zee, when he was alone, miserable, when he used to walk the playground wishing someone would mutter some nasty remark just so he wouldn’t feel so alone. Nobody cared when the ******** trees were his only friends. Nobody lent a helping hand when he would cry himself to sleep, wishing he was dead. Nobody cared about about Zee until they decided he was effed up, and that people could make themselves feel better by piecing him back together. Nobody but us, okay? We were there. And okay, maybe I’m not like Ghost, maybe I wasn’t perfect, but I was there. I—“ Sid suddenly breaks off eye contact, his voice taking on a thin, froggy tone. “It’s not fair. Suddenly, you people start appearing, and I don't matter anymore. I don’t deserve to die, do I, doctor? Do I? I helped him. How can you just…”
“Zee, —“
“—What? So now I’m not worth talking to? Am I not even a person anymore. God, you think you’re so much better than me, don’t you, you sick ********. You’re just like all the rest of them, you know that? You think you’re helping Zee? You’re a murderer.”
“I don’t—“ an exasperated sigh. ”Sid, I need to talk to Zee,” the doctor asks.
“Doctor.” The boy’s voice suddenly evens out.
“Ghost,” the doctor greets blandly. “I need to talk to Zee for a moment.”
“He could get rid of just me,” Ghost winces slightly, then forges on. “Let him keep Sid and Damon. He needs them. Please.”
The doctor’s voice softens.“Ghost. I know you want what’s best for him. Please, just let me talk to Zee for a second.”
“You’ll hurt us—him.”
“You’ve done the best you can to help him. I know that, I do, Ghost. But do you think he’s happy like this? If you want what’s best for him…” the doctor trails off, pulling back into his chair slightly. “We’ve gone over this before. There’s nothing else I can say. I just…who are you really protecting now, Ghost? Him…or you?”
It is very quiet. The soft sound of breathing seems like a roar in Ghost’s ears. And then they are no longer Ghost’s ears.
“It will go back to the way it used to be,” the boy’s voice sounds distant, hollow now. “Zee’ll be alone, and we’ll be…”
The doctor waits for a moment. The silence stretches across the room like a heavy woolen blanket. “You wanna know something, Sid? I’m not much of a religious man. Never was much of a believer in God, or gods. And in a way, it’s sad…there’s no heaven, or nirvana, or some such thing waiting for me when I die. I won’t ever get to see the people I love again, not the ones who have already died, nor the ones that will outlive me. But I will live on in the hearts of those I leave behind. And in our memories, in our hearts we will never be separated. No matter what happens, nothing can change that. Do you understand? He'll always have you, just not always like...this."
“He’s not strong enough.”
“Maybe.”
“He will be alone.”
“Maybe.”
Sid’s voice rises, “Then how do you expect me to leave him?”
“Because it’s your time to go. There’s never a good time. You can’t be afraid to let go, or he’ll be afraid he can’t do it on his own. You just have to push him out of the nest and believe he’ll fly.”
“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
The doctor waits, then adds quietly, “Yes, Sid. But I’d rather live in a world like that—a world filled with hope, if sometimes blind.”
Sid mumbles to himself, eyebrows drawing together.
“What’s that, Sid?” the doctor asks.
“Nothing.” And Sid pushes Zee out of the nest, eyebrows unfurrowing, and is gone.
“Zee?” the doctor calls to the boy in front of him, after a slight pause. The boy’s head shoots up, eyes catching the older man’s. “Or is it Damon?”
“No, it’s Zee.” Zee clears his throat. “Damon’s…scared.”
“Does he want to…talk about it?” the doctor suggests awkwardly.
“Not really,” Zee answers slowly. “He just…you know how he is. He thinks if he just hides, maybe…You know.”
“Oh.”
There is a knock on the door, soft but insistent.
“That must be my next appointment. We’ll have to work on Damon next week,” the doctor informs him reluctantly, like a child having a toy taken away. “You’ll tell me if Sid or Ghost returns, yes?” Zee nods.
It is very quiet, in his head. Different than before. It feels less like Sid and Ghost are just hiding, more like…more like he’s just alone. The only sound now is soft crying. Was it the doctor? Did something the old man say finally have an effect, or did Zee just tire of being treated like a lab rat and change himself? Zee doesn’t know, nor does he know whether he feels concerned…or bored.
His head feels so light right now it’s almost like he’s dead.
There’s only Damon now. Soon, there might not even be him. Only Zee. He feels numb.
A boy, not old, not so young anymore, should be on his way to college soon. His back presses up against the chair, face carefully held blank, eyes locked on the man in front of him.
A doctor across from him, suit wrinkling, glasses slightly askew, hair just graying. He pushes forward, eager as a child, his torso stretching across his desk as much as the chair will allow, his hands folded in front of him as though praying.
“Zee,” the doctor begins, “Zee.”
“Leave me alone.” It comes out sharper than Zee had meant. Something flashes across the boy’s face. It is—yes, maybe… it is…
“Is that one of them?” the doctor asks. “Sid, is that you?”
“Shut the ******** up.” Zee is slipping. Sid wants out. “There is no Sid.” That is a lie. “Look, I’m fine, okay? Just leave me alone, okay?” His voice gets louder, less a question, more a demand. The boy is pressing forward towards the other man, nostrils flaring, eyes in a glare.
The doctor clicks his pens and waits. The boy struggles for a moment, fingers twitching, slowly pulling himself back into his chair, slowly crossing his arms over his chest. His lips are moving faintly, his face vaguely contorting.
“Can you tell me why you’re upset?” the doctor asks calmly.
“I don’t understand why I’m here,” the boy pushes his chin out ever so slightly, posture somewhat straighter, voice strong. “Can I just go home? I’m fine, we have homework—“ the boy clamps his mouth shut.
“‘We’?” one of the doctor’s eyebrows arches in generic expression of a question. “Tell me about this ‘we,’ Ghost.”
“Who’s Ghost?” the boy asks, feigning confusion. This is an old game; the doctor waits impatiently, tapping his fingers lightly against the desk.
“You’re not protecting him, Ghost,” the doctor sounds… tired. “Hiding the problem doesn’t make it go away.” The boy’s face twitches. Wrong word.
“So we’re a ‘problem’ now? We’re people. You’re telling him he should, what? Just—just kill us off like we’re nothing, discard us like used tissues after we stop being convenient. So I’m nothing, then?”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” The doctor exhales. “Ghost…”
“Sid,” he corrects angrily, then lets out a dry laugh. “You know, it’s funny…nobody cared about Zee, when he was alone, miserable, when he used to walk the playground wishing someone would mutter some nasty remark just so he wouldn’t feel so alone. Nobody cared when the ******** trees were his only friends. Nobody lent a helping hand when he would cry himself to sleep, wishing he was dead. Nobody cared about about Zee until they decided he was effed up, and that people could make themselves feel better by piecing him back together. Nobody but us, okay? We were there. And okay, maybe I’m not like Ghost, maybe I wasn’t perfect, but I was there. I—“ Sid suddenly breaks off eye contact, his voice taking on a thin, froggy tone. “It’s not fair. Suddenly, you people start appearing, and I don't matter anymore. I don’t deserve to die, do I, doctor? Do I? I helped him. How can you just…”
“Zee, —“
“—What? So now I’m not worth talking to? Am I not even a person anymore. God, you think you’re so much better than me, don’t you, you sick ********. You’re just like all the rest of them, you know that? You think you’re helping Zee? You’re a murderer.”
“I don’t—“ an exasperated sigh. ”Sid, I need to talk to Zee,” the doctor asks.
“Doctor.” The boy’s voice suddenly evens out.
“Ghost,” the doctor greets blandly. “I need to talk to Zee for a moment.”
“He could get rid of just me,” Ghost winces slightly, then forges on. “Let him keep Sid and Damon. He needs them. Please.”
The doctor’s voice softens.“Ghost. I know you want what’s best for him. Please, just let me talk to Zee for a second.”
“You’ll hurt us—him.”
“You’ve done the best you can to help him. I know that, I do, Ghost. But do you think he’s happy like this? If you want what’s best for him…” the doctor trails off, pulling back into his chair slightly. “We’ve gone over this before. There’s nothing else I can say. I just…who are you really protecting now, Ghost? Him…or you?”
It is very quiet. The soft sound of breathing seems like a roar in Ghost’s ears. And then they are no longer Ghost’s ears.
“It will go back to the way it used to be,” the boy’s voice sounds distant, hollow now. “Zee’ll be alone, and we’ll be…”
The doctor waits for a moment. The silence stretches across the room like a heavy woolen blanket. “You wanna know something, Sid? I’m not much of a religious man. Never was much of a believer in God, or gods. And in a way, it’s sad…there’s no heaven, or nirvana, or some such thing waiting for me when I die. I won’t ever get to see the people I love again, not the ones who have already died, nor the ones that will outlive me. But I will live on in the hearts of those I leave behind. And in our memories, in our hearts we will never be separated. No matter what happens, nothing can change that. Do you understand? He'll always have you, just not always like...this."
“He’s not strong enough.”
“Maybe.”
“He will be alone.”
“Maybe.”
Sid’s voice rises, “Then how do you expect me to leave him?”
“Because it’s your time to go. There’s never a good time. You can’t be afraid to let go, or he’ll be afraid he can’t do it on his own. You just have to push him out of the nest and believe he’ll fly.”
“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
The doctor waits, then adds quietly, “Yes, Sid. But I’d rather live in a world like that—a world filled with hope, if sometimes blind.”
Sid mumbles to himself, eyebrows drawing together.
“What’s that, Sid?” the doctor asks.
“Nothing.” And Sid pushes Zee out of the nest, eyebrows unfurrowing, and is gone.
“Zee?” the doctor calls to the boy in front of him, after a slight pause. The boy’s head shoots up, eyes catching the older man’s. “Or is it Damon?”
“No, it’s Zee.” Zee clears his throat. “Damon’s…scared.”
“Does he want to…talk about it?” the doctor suggests awkwardly.
“Not really,” Zee answers slowly. “He just…you know how he is. He thinks if he just hides, maybe…You know.”
“Oh.”
There is a knock on the door, soft but insistent.
“That must be my next appointment. We’ll have to work on Damon next week,” the doctor informs him reluctantly, like a child having a toy taken away. “You’ll tell me if Sid or Ghost returns, yes?” Zee nods.
It is very quiet, in his head. Different than before. It feels less like Sid and Ghost are just hiding, more like…more like he’s just alone. The only sound now is soft crying. Was it the doctor? Did something the old man say finally have an effect, or did Zee just tire of being treated like a lab rat and change himself? Zee doesn’t know, nor does he know whether he feels concerned…or bored.
His head feels so light right now it’s almost like he’s dead.
There’s only Damon now. Soon, there might not even be him. Only Zee. He feels numb.
