The Perfect World

Chapter 4

"Sure, sure, sure, listen. I don't care." You snap. "I just want to know why he had a doll of me!"

"Oh. Well sorry, but I don't really have an answer for you there," he explains while looking closely at the monocle, paying very little attention to you.

You can't help but feel a little insulted as he continues looking closely at it. A decent person would at least try to make eye contact while speaking.

"You're just like them." You say, crossing your arms.

"Like who?" He asks, still not looking at you.

"Like everyone! No one ever actually listens to me-"

"Cool, cool. Can you hold this for me?" He interrupts while taking his helmet completely off and handing it to you, revealing his messy brown hair. Your mouth hangs ajar, slightly shocked at how incredibly rude that was. You wish that for once he could just sit and listen. He pulls out a small magnifying glass and takes a closer look at the monocle for another moment.

"I see your burns have healed. How exactly did you do that," He asks, still not looking in your direction. To this, you just shrug. "Guess I just got a good night's sleep."

"Well, that was awfully lucky. Some people down here have been dead for centuries and their wounds still haven't healed."

You eye the cuts on his face and the horrible scar on his neck for a moment.

He straightens up and puts the magnifying glass in his back pocket. "Well... I guess I better be off to figure out what this means," He says holding up the monocle. He quickly pockets that as well, then takes the helmet from your hands and puts it back on his head, leaving it up so it doesn't cover his face. He waves and starts to walk off. However, he stops himself after a few steps and looks back at you.

"But... one more question. Actually, two questions." He starts.

You let out a long, annoyed sigh, before nodding, signifying for him to ahead and ask.

"One, Do you... do you really think I talk too much?"

"Yes," You reply instantly.

"Oh... okay," He starts, seeming slightly surprised by how quickly you answered.

You don't know why he seems surprised. You've made it fairly clear that you don't want him around.

"Two," He starts, taking a deep breath. "Is it really preferable... to be alone?"

You don't answer this one right away. He gives you a moment, before looking down to his side.

He seems disappointed.

"I mean," You say, breaking the silence. "It's preferable to being in the presence of someone you hate."

He looks up at you with a hurt expression. "You... you hate me?"

"Well, yeah. Don't you feel the same way towards me?" You shrug.

He immediately shakes his head no, and to this, you chuckle.

"Let me ask you something else, then," You start. "How do those burns feel?"

He tenses up.

"And that scar on your neck, how does it feel? Do your wounds still hurt?" You ask.

He pauses, looking down at the floor about three feet in front of him, eyes almost empty.

"Yes," He says, defeated after a few moments. "I've tried everything. They won't heal."

"Hm," You say. "Do you perhaps... hate the burns?"

"Well, yeah." He says, shrugging. "They hurt. And they never stop hurting."

"So, if you hate the burns... why don't you hate the person who gave them to you?" You ask coldly, taking a step closer. "I mean, if I saw the person responsible for the pain I feel every day, I most certainly would prefer being alone than being near them."

"Well," He starts, his voice sounding more steady than just a moment ago. "I guess that's where you and I differ. I don't want to be alone. Ever."

He shrugs, then turns to take another few steps, before stopping himself yet again.

"Wait..." He says. "What did I ever do to you?"

You open your mouth to respond, only to find no words will come out.

"Did I like, DO something to make you hate me, or are you just hating me to hate me? I never gave you burns, I never killed you."

You just wait in silence.

You hate him because he mindlessly followed Count Bleck. Not that he had a choice, but still. Plus, something about him just ticked you off. You found him annoying. Just another pawn in your plans in life for a world of perfection.

"I see," He says, and you think that he almost sounds disappointed. You guess your silence answered the question for him. "I honestly can't imagine thinking that way. The idea of being all alone is just... sad." He admits. "But, as I said, I guess that's where we differ."

You don't reply to any of this either. You just wait in a moment of awkward silence, before he finally decides it's time to leave the conversation.

"Alright. Well, I'll see you around. Or not. We'll see," He says, slowly walking off, pulling his helmet over his face and disappearing into the fog.