Breathe

Chapter 4 - Begging You Please

After climbing dusty stairs, I walked down a narrow hall and into my bedroom. Light, framed by drawn-back black curtains, was beginning to fade; the night was beginning to cascade over my sheets. Climbing onto my bed, I knelt as I reached on either side of the curtains to release them from their constraints. Immediately, with a soft whoosh, they fell back into the crack between my bed and the wall. Soon, light bid me farewell and left me behind. With the light from my open door as my guide, I shifted to the other side and reached for the lamp on my bed stand. As I stumbled with the knob that I flicked but couldn't seem to flip, the bed creaked, growling louder than the voices down below. Eventually, it turned on and my room was filled with a bright and warm yellow-hued light. Finally, my wish was fulfilled.

I lied my back onto my bed and sprawled my limbs in every direction. With a distorted gaze, I stared at my ceiling and pondered what to do now. Now that I was here, what did I want to do? To begin with, why was I here? Right now, I could be downstairs, talking to everyone, maybe even having fun with everyone. But no—instead, I was in my room, alone, with nothing to do but stare at a blank slate.

Turning onto my side, I looked at the books that were stacked on my desk. But even though some of the words on their crooked spines piqued my interest, I couldn't muster the strength to pick any of them up. I had everything within arms reach, yet I didn't want any of it.

    Something seemed to be lacking. But... what was it?

    Hearing the sound of arrhythmical footsteps, I lifted myself up slightly to see what the commotion was all about. The rendezvous had ended and like any other day, everyone was making their way to their room, murmuring 'goodnight' as they looked as drowsy as a tree shrew. And like always, once they made it their rooms, they closed them shut, never to be cracked again until dawn arrived.

    It was as though nothing had changed. They were repeating what they did yesterday, the day before yesterday, the day before the yesterday of yesterday—everyday, it was only a rinse and repeat process. Start the day drowsy and end the day drowsy—not one day that started and ended with a beam. Although there's beauty in a normal day, there's fear in too many of them, especially considering the composition of a 'normal' day.

    A normal day—a day without change. A day that's like any other, a day in which nothing profoundly stood out. It was like a day when you arrived at your destination on time; a day you continued as normal. It was like a day when you just stared at the sky; a day when you dreamt without doing. It was like a day when you avoided going against your norm; a day when you avoided change. It was like a day when you avoided speaking up; a day when you avoided development. And those days—I find comfort in those days. Yet at the same time, it wears on my spirit and pushes me to the brink of despair.

    A day without change is a day when I didn't try; when I didn't look to help her. A day without change is a day when I just sat on my ass all day, thinking about the things I could have done to help her; help him; help them. A day without change is a day when I look at myself in the mirror and say, "I look fine," while I stare at my lithe, scrawny arms and legs and sunken stomach. A day without change is a day full of missed opportunity and mistakes that tomorrow, I will regret. Yet it wouldn't matter in the end because tomorrow will just be a repeat of yesterday. Then again, what can I do?

    Dani's words from dinner suddenly rushed back. "We can't just sit here, waiting for the world to change while we're stuck in some sentimental mood," I heard Dani repeat in my mind. "We've ought to go out and a least try to make it happen."

    Suddenly, it came to me—I figured out what I needed to do. Bolting up, I ran, barefoot, down the hall to a room that rested at almost the edge of the hall, right before the wall met the rails of the stairs. Almost frantically, I grabbed the doorknob and flung the door open. It slammed open and the sound of it hitting the wall trembled the house.

    The denizen of the room looked at me with a fazed look—at least, fazed in his regard. "Newvy," I said between huffs. My heart was still beating fast in my chest. "Can you train me?"

    He continued to stare at me. "Now?"

    I nodded. "Yes, right now. I don't care where we go—I need to fight now."

    Looking behind his curtains, he said, "It's dark."

    "We have the stars and the moon for light."

    "I don't think fighting in the moonlight is a good idea."

    "Fighting, in general, isn't a good idea," I added, "but I need to learn—before anything else happens."

    He sighed. "Alastair, you know enough right now. If you want more, we can train in the morning."

    "Please, Newvy," I begged with a pained look. "If we don't start now, we won't ever start."

    He looked at me and then outside. With a blank look on his face, it was hard to tell what he was thinking. However, once I saw his eyes dart in the corner in a dejected-like manner, I knew his response. Looking back at me, the only thing he said was, "Okay. Let's go."

    "Thank you, Newvy," was all I said in response. But internally, my heart was beyond the point of bursting and my mind was scattered and light.

    "We need to write a note before we go," he added.

    "That's fine—I can write it." Glancing around, I saw a discarded piece of paper and pen. Uncapping the pen, I wrote: "Went to train. Will be back before dawn." Looking up, I asked, "Where are we going to train?"

    He shrugged. "Base isn't safe. Near the river?"

    "Near the river," I added. Putting the cap back on the pen, I turned around and asked, "Where should I put this?"

    "The dining table."

    "I'll do that once we're down there," I stated. Fumbling a little, "Also, ho— what are you going to teach me?"

    He shrugged. "What do you need?"

    Brushing my bangs back, I murmured, "Melee combat. I'm proficient at gunmanship, so I'd prefer not to focus on that."

    "We'll train melee combat," he stated. Getting up, he walked towards me and out the door. His straight dark hair bounced with each step he took. Noticing that I wasn't following him, he looked back at me. I could see his covered eye peak behind his thick, long bangs. "Aren't we going?"

    "Yes," I said with a slight nod. Then, he turned around and I followed suit.