"I'm totally thinking straight." He reaches a hand up to his face, where the blood is dripping, smearing it on his fingers. He briefly looks at them and rubs his fingers together, like he's testing out the texture of finger paint.
His voice cracks when he speaks again.
"See, he showed me what I would've become."
His face falls, and he looks like he's lost in his own little world of pain.
"I left her behind and didn't even realize it," he says sadly. "Or maybe it's more like Mabel is going to leave me behind. She won't mean to; it won't be her fault. I think I just went too many places that she'll never go -- that I don't want her to have to go to."
He can't cry out of the socket of the eye that's missing, but tears still somehow work their way out of the eye that's sewn shut.
"I was just going to be this weirdo that doesn't belong anywhere. Too screwed up to keep being a hero, too weird to be a normal kid. And she was going to try so, so hard, but the only way to make it so I wasn't alone would've been to drag her down into all the messed up, broken stuff with me."
He shakes his head, his lips trembling. The tears leaking through the sewn up eye are a mirror to the blood dripping down the other side.
"She deserves better than that. Now she'll just be sad, and grieve, and move on, and be fine. All of the dark, sad stuff that I was going to drown in? Now it can't get to her through me."
It's better this way. It's better than being some loser kid hyperventilating in class from a panic attack because the movie they're watching has a character that looks like one of the Yellow Lanterns that tortured him. It's better than eating every lunch alone in the library because Mabel has a different lunch period and otherwise he'd be sitting by himself, ignored. It's better than being awkward and moody and unable to talk to his parents about it without making them ship him off to a psychiatric hospital or something. It's better than being laughed at and whispered about and called a freak under people's breath.
It's better than being so, so, so alone with all those bad feelings that the whole world just goes dull and gray around him, because the only way he can cope with it is just trying not to feel anything at all.
It was going to be a future of endlessly watching her walking away, laughing with her friends, and knowing that if he tried to butt in, he'd either just be some awkward hanger-on or even make her social life as messed up as his.
Until what? Going to college, and then not even having Mabel around anymore? What would he even major in? Crazy Loner Manifesto Writing?
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His voice cracks when he speaks again.
"See, he showed me what I would've become."
His face falls, and he looks like he's lost in his own little world of pain.
"I left her behind and didn't even realize it," he says sadly. "Or maybe it's more like Mabel is going to leave me behind. She won't mean to; it won't be her fault. I think I just went too many places that she'll never go -- that I don't want her to have to go to."
He can't cry out of the socket of the eye that's missing, but tears still somehow work their way out of the eye that's sewn shut.
"I was just going to be this weirdo that doesn't belong anywhere. Too screwed up to keep being a hero, too weird to be a normal kid. And she was going to try so, so hard, but the only way to make it so I wasn't alone would've been to drag her down into all the messed up, broken stuff with me."
He shakes his head, his lips trembling. The tears leaking through the sewn up eye are a mirror to the blood dripping down the other side.
"She deserves better than that. Now she'll just be sad, and grieve, and move on, and be fine. All of the dark, sad stuff that I was going to drown in? Now it can't get to her through me."
It's better this way. It's better than being some loser kid hyperventilating in class from a panic attack because the movie they're watching has a character that looks like one of the Yellow Lanterns that tortured him. It's better than eating every lunch alone in the library because Mabel has a different lunch period and otherwise he'd be sitting by himself, ignored. It's better than being awkward and moody and unable to talk to his parents about it without making them ship him off to a psychiatric hospital or something. It's better than being laughed at and whispered about and called a freak under people's breath.
It's better than being so, so, so alone with all those bad feelings that the whole world just goes dull and gray around him, because the only way he can cope with it is just trying not to feel anything at all.
It was going to be a future of endlessly watching her walking away, laughing with her friends, and knowing that if he tried to butt in, he'd either just be some awkward hanger-on or even make her social life as messed up as his.
Until what? Going to college, and then not even having Mabel around anymore? What would he even major in? Crazy Loner Manifesto Writing?