Inhale

Chapter 35 - Of Narcissus and Tulips

When I arrived back at the base, I immediately went straight to my room. It was around dinnertime, but I wasn't willing to deal with anyone's shitty problems—they don't have my problem. When I got to my room, I threw my door open, and then slammed it shut. Due to a security measure Phillip had installed, the door automatically locked. Which, of course, is perfect. I went over to the walls that my bed leaned against, and pounded my fists on them.

"Why did this have to happen," I murmured, watching as some wall debris crumbled down. "Why is this happening to me? I did nothing wrong... sure, I hurt some peoples' feelings, but I don't deserve this!" I screamed. I repeatedly pounded on the wall, venting my feelings. The wall soon caved in, leaving barren the foundation behind it. Scoffing, I collapsed onto my bed. Stupid wall—I'm the one who's supposed to get wrecked. Then again, what did the wall do to deserve this?

I sighed, and got off my bed. It's no use taking things out on walls: they can't respond. I searched for a cover for the hole, and found an old poster featuring some sort of engineering competition. I took the poster, and plastered it on the wall. There. Hole no more. Pleased with my accomplishment, I decided to cool down and read a book. I went to my old duffle bag, pulled out a book, and went back to my bed. Pleasure reading always cools me down.

After an hour or so of leisure reading, Phillip came back to the dorm. I looked up from my book and noticed his merry exterior... until he saw me. When he noticed my existence, he stopped in his tracks in the doorway, and dropped what appeared to be food.

"Welcome back," I greeted, "please don't make a mess on our floor."

"Al," he trailed, running towards me, leaving the dejected food on the floor, "how was it? The hospital, I mean."

"What's there to talk about?" I scoffed. "It's a hospital. People die or get better, End of story."

"She's dying, isn't she?"

"There's no point in telling you anything that you know."

"Are we friends, Alastair?" he suddenly inquired, taking me off-guard.

"I would think so," I responded hesitantly, "do you not think so?"

"Well, why won't you tell me anything, then?" he questioned, furrowing his eyebrows. "If we're supposed to be friends, why won't you ever tell me anything about your personal life?"

"I believe personal lives should stay out of everyday conversations."

"Well, it's night, so what about every-night conversations?" he asked. Was he trying to be funny? Sighing, he continued, "Can we at least talk about these things at night? I feel like a bad friend when you bring up things I don't know about."

"You don't need to know about my personal life."

"But I want to know about your personal life," he retorted. "What's it going to take for you to open up to me?"

"Who knows," I replied, reverting my gaze back at my book. "Maybe if we play a stupid game, I'll start giving answers."

"Then it's settled—we're playing a stupid game right now," he stated a-matter-of-factly, grabbing my book and throwing it behind him, which caused me to throw him a look of hurt and disgust.

"We're playing Ten Questions. Right here, and right now" he declared. "No buts."

"Isn't it Twenty Questions?"

"If we play that, it'll last the entire night. You need to eat," he replied. "We're playing Ten Questions right now. Maybe twenty later."

"Alright, fine," I sighed, giving into the boy. He was being serious now, so it's not like I can retort and get my way. "Don't expect me to respond if you cross the line."

"Alright," he sang, somewhat lifting the mood. "What's your favorite color?"

"You've crossed the line," I stated, "I refuse to answer that question."

"You're unfair, Al!" he complained. "That was a level one question!"

"A level one question?"

"There are five levels to questions: basic, random, educational, controversial, and personal. Level ones' are the easiest, non-threatening questions, while level fives' are the hardest, most-threatening questions that you have to ask at your own risk," he explained, as if it was obvious. He has too much time on his hands. "Sexual questions are level fives', by the way."

"Uh huh, tell me more. So, you're saying that I have to answer level ones', twos', and threes'?"

"Exactly," he agreed, "they have little to no risk involved, so you should answer."

"I don't want to."

"You have to, or else I'll eat your dinner in front of you. I even got your favorite. You know, spaghetii."

"Fine," I replied, rolling my eyes, "my favorite color is white."

"Really? Mine's blue. Maybe a celeste blue... definitely something light and blue, that's for sure," he merrily added.

"I didn't ask what your favorite color was."

"Really? Sorry," he apologized. "How about we both respond? We'll trade off on questions, so they'll still be ten... unless you want to go back to playing normally, that is."

"Fine by me. Do I ask a question now?" I inquired. He nodded. "I have a feeling I've already asked this question, but how old are you?"

"Sixteen," he speedily replied, "I turn seventeen on July 10th."

"I'm sixteen, too," I stated, "I turn seventeen on November 15th."

"You know, my birthday is coming up!"

"It is?"

"Yeah, today is May 13th, after all—that's about two months away."

"It's Sunday already?"

"Yep," he affirmed, "we volunteered for vanguard two days ago. That means there's three more days until our first mission... which makes me nervous."

"Our mission," I trailed, "do you know what it's about?"

"My dad refused to tell me anything about it," he stated, pouting, "all he said is that I should feel sorry for you."

"Me? Why me?"

"I don't know, but he was smiling real sinister even though he was just thinking about it," he explained. "That's saying something, since my dad doesn't smile a lot. Something really embarrassing or amusing is going to happen, that's for sure."

"I wonder," I trailed. What would be embarrassing, yet amusing? Cross-dressing is embarrassing and amusing, so that's a possibility. However, he's not that cruel...right?

"Hey, Earth to Al," Phillip called, drawing my attention back to him.

"Yes?"

"Do you want to continue the game?"

"Sure."

"Okay, tulips or narcissuses?"

"Tulips."

We continued the game for about thirty minutes or so until Phillip got tired. We both learned more about each other, which was both beneficial and unnecessary. Let's just say I didn't need to know about the numerous times he ran around naked and he didn't need to know that I have an irrational fear for fungi. While he crawled to bed, I ate dinner and contemplated about Katherine and the mission. Mostly Katherine. I tried to distract myself from the mushrooms in my spaghetti. After I was done, I threw away the container, locked the door, and crawled back into bed. I stared at the poster for a bit, which had the date May 6th, 20XX (the last two digits were scribbled out), and then let drowsiness overwhelm me.

May tomorrow be a better day.

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(05/25/16): And I'm done for tonight! I just updated chapters 31-35, so they should have less errors and more content. If not, then I'm sorry--I'll edit it more during the second run through. If you find any mistakes or like how things are going so far, please leave a review! It'll also be appreciated if you check out the sequel, but I'm mainly saying that to people who've already read through this. Thanks, and I hope you keep on reading!