𝘝𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦: 𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺, 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦.
-
The door opens and a man walks in, a file in his hand. He sits across from me, clicking his tongue. "Ian Gallagher, our paths cross once more."
Blindly, I start picking at my fingers and my teeth begin to chatter.
"What's the problem this time? Not taking your pills?"
I want to respond but his eyes are that way again, full of anger and demanding that I stay silent. Say something, I beg myself.
"I can tell that you want to see me just as much as I want to see you." He smiles, moving closer. "Admit it. You can't resist."
Tick... Tick... Tick...
The next thing I know is that I'm running out the door and down the street, the wind whipping my face and tears blurring my vision. Somewhere along the way, I fall, leaning against an alley wall. I hide my face in my hands and cry.
I stay there and cry for some time before taking a few deep breaths and calming down. Then I help myself up and walk back home.
-
I grab a lighter from my pocket, pressing it against my palm and feeling the small flame burn my skin.
"You're burning yourself." a voice says, causing me to drop the lighter in surprise. "Isn't that hypocritical?"
I pick up the lighter, trying to put it back in my pocket, but Mickey grabs my wrist and takes it. I pull my arm away.
"It's only fair, right? You took my cigarette."
I stare at him.
"Why were you doing it?" he asks.
I stare.
He nods. "Okay, fine."
I grab my notepad and scribble a question: Why were you doing it?
"Touché." he laughs. "I have to hurt myself for all the times I've hurt someone else."
That won't solve anything.
"Why do you do it, then?"
We go quiet. I turn away, looking up at the sunburnt sky, full with clouds. For a while now, there's been this ticking in my head. Is it a clock or a bomb? Does it even matter? I'm either running out of time or about to explode.
"I can't handle the suspense any longer. Tell me why you've stopped talking. Some sort of ROTC training? Preparing for—"
I start to cry. I don't mean to but the tears come flowing out on their own. A river of words unspoken.
"What's wrong?" Mickey asks. I try to turn away, but he grabs my face, wiping away my tears with his thumb.
I pull away from him.
"Where are you going?" He asks.
I don't answer. I just leave. Again.
-
Ian: Tick... Tick.. Tick.. Boom!