#is it fine if i say juniper feels a bit overrated to me.. nothing against him really i just see him Everywhere and he's not. like. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bluepenguinstories · 6 years ago

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Happiness Overload Chapter Twenty-Eight

There was a moment of silence. Even a fart would have been drowned out in the silence. Maybe the smell would linger, but other smells would drown it out as well until all was neutral once again.

I wasn't planning on letting one rip. I looked toward her. I couldn't tell if she was planning to either. After all, I wasn't a mind reader.

Well, maybe I could have been. But digging into others' thoughts wasn't something that brought me joy.

She looked my way as well. Her face was void of joy or sorrow. On the contrary, it was a face of both joy and sorrow. Complete release.

After such sterile silence, so painful, I lifted myself to my feet. My original plan was to leave. Leave here there and go about my way. Where? Why, any which way. Wherever made me happy.

“Sit,” she commanded. I obeyed.

“Care to share a drink with me?”

“I'm sorry. I'm not a vampire,” I teased, though my tone may have come off as more scathing.

“Very funny. I ought to kill you,” her response was just as playful in turn. Childlike, not the collected demeanor I had come to expect. There was a certain glow to her, though not an illuminating one. Radiating, maybe, but one akin to magma or the aftermath of a nuclear reactor collapsing.

“No,” she continued, more zest in her voice, yet also a sense of exhaustion. “I was actually thinking of champagne.”

She procured a bottle and two glasses, a sign that the two of us now shared something. Such a fact didn't bring me joy, but I could tell she enjoyed it, so I gave up thoughts on throwing it out.

“We're popping the biggest corks when The Flashbulb is defeated!” I cracked a joke, which she just responded by tilting her head

“I...I was trying to make a funny...”

“Let's start this day over from the beginning,” she began.

“You're going to be my therapist for real this time?”

She shook her head, her smile more warm. “I don't think I would be the right person for that job. I was thinking instead of us talking as if we were two world-weary travelers meeting at the twilight of our journey.”

“That sounds like some romantic BS,” I yawned. “But fine. I've got time. I'll indulge you.”

She closed her eyes and smiled, then took a sip from her glass. I didn't recall the champagne bottle being poured into our glasses, but I suppose the 'no recollection' thing was just par for the course.

“So what did it feel like, when you, you know...” I had trouble asking something so simple. Perhaps it had something to do with it being a process involving my own body which I did not plan for, yet if I were to be curious about anything, that would be the first thing to come to mind.

“Have you ever felt so happy you could die?” She asked in response.

Ah, I see. The old 'answering a question with another question' tactic. I took a sip from the glass, then spit out what I had drank. How did anyone enjoy such things? After wiping my mouth, I found just what to say.

“Can't say I have.”

“Then I can't really tell you what it felt like, now can I?” She laughed and hiccuped. Her glass wasn't even empty yet. Did it not take much for her to be intoxicated? I just tilted the glass to and fro, unsure if I wanted to drink the rest.

“Truth is, I'm not even sure how to be happy.”

She leaned back, startled by my response.

“Oh, so you can lie to your guardian angel, can you?”

I didn't know how she knew that or if she even knew that she knew that.

“I doubt she'd be very happy to find out you've been lying to her,” she continued, wagging her finger in disapproval.

“Well, I mean, I just don't really know what it means.”

“Look, you've got the smiling part down.”

“Yeah, but you can go around smiling and think about killing yourself all the while,” I pointed out.

“Is that what you do?”

I shook my head. “I told you! I've already died a few times. Totally overrated.”

“So you're telling me when you do all these things and say you're able to do them because it makes you happy, you're not really happy?”

I shook my head again. “Not at all. I am, I'm just not sure how I am, or what it means to be happy.”

“Do you know how to be sad? How to be mad? Do you know what any of those things mean?”

“Well, no? Yes? I don't know?”

I felt a little dizzy. I was pretty sure I wasn't the one doing most of the drinking.

She belted a hearty laugh.

“You're a funny kid, you know that?”

“Hey, I'm twenty-four!”

I shook my head.

“Actually, I guess I'm only four years old. But since I have all the memories and appearance of someone twenty-four years old, I like to think I ought to be twenty-four.”

“What? Really?”

She stared as if I said something strange. Nothing was strange at all. I was born one day in the exact image, mind, and memories as someone else who happened to share the same name. The other me was 20 and this me has lived for about four years, so I couldn't tell what was so confusing.

“Well, what about you?”

She nudged me. “Please, you're not supposed to ask a lady her age. But if you ought to know, I am most certainly an adult!”

I puffed my cheeks. Such a cop out. In retaliation, I held out the glass and she took the cue to fill it further. I downed the drink, doing my best not to spit it out. If it made her happy, I would be happy as well. Maybe that was why I smiled throughout guzzling it down. She shook her head. Mine was dizzy.

“You're not supposed to chug it, you know. You're supposed to take slow sips.” Her voice could be heard. I ignored it in favor of my own.

“Do you believe in angels?” Was the question I posed. She turned her head and looked up. There were dolphins swimming through the walls, though that was neither here nor there.

“When I was little I believed there were fairies in the fields near where I lived. Even when I grew up just a little and met my girlfriend, we would sit atop her van and ingest mushrooms. It was during those times that we thought we could see those fairies and even thought if we stayed real still, they would grant our wishes.”

She paused.

“That's right...”

“Are you okay?” my head spun, but my words still found their center.

“Before I met Juniper I had a girlfriend who I just left. I went forward too many years. I can't go back. I've abandoned so much in this new life and I miss it. I can't see her how she is now. I don't know how she is now. She may be dead, she may be much older, she may have met someone else a long time ago. If I were to go back, I would be an adult and she would be a teenager. We couldn't continue as we had. I am someone different.”

She clutched her head, pulled out the bangs of her hair, and leaned against her raised knee.

“Even as I have become, I don't know what I'm supposed to do.”

My gut told me to say “whatever you want to do”, but when I looked at her, she looked more and more like a child. Even though I knew she was older (and I had assumed wiser) than me, I also sensed both this naivety and fragility. Blonde, silver...someone so brave, so cruel, so scared, so considerate.

“Why don't you tell me about that life?” Was my compromise.

Must have been the alcohol. So giddy, so plush. Lush. Charms I gave myself. Such power I had obtained and here I was using it to talk with the source. Who I would consider responsible.

I just had to laugh.

“No wonder you were so happy. To think I have just a little bit of what you have,” I mused. Yes, I was dodging the issue.

Blanc grinned as well, a grin or a grimace. It still had the visage of happiness, in either case.

“You feel it and at first you're in disbelief, but it feels so good. You want more. You get more. Then, you feel like there's still something missing in spite of it all. But when you try to seek out more in hopes that it can fill whatever's missing, it's gone.”

“Is that what you're going through?”

Blanc bared teeth, the grin brighter.

“Nope! Because I have it again!” But then shifted just a little. “Though it is dangerous...entropic.”

Just a little...more...

“So, are you going to tell me or what?”

I blinked. Snapped back to reality. What was that song Trent would go on about? Something about spaghetti...

“Very well,” I declared while waving my glass about now. Empty or full, the liquid would still find its way.

“You're starting to slur...” Blanc groaned in a rather sing-song way.

“I lived with my mother and father. Only child, lucky me. Father was always away in the garage, had the door locked. Hard at work on some invention or other. Dr. Stromboli, he was called. We never knew his actual last name. Although both my mother and I's last names were Modelo, his could have been anything. That was the life he lived. My life was spent trying to get in. Chip away at that life to be a part of it. He loved us, he did. I think he did. I loved him.”

“So you didn't know much of him?”

I shook my head. Such a silly notion.

“I knew much. We shared a home together. We were family. I didn't know much of what he did, but I understood his dedication. When he would come out and greet everyone with a smile, I knew he still cared. At times, losing track of time. We shared dinner together. There were times he would let me in after I banged on the door, and I would watch him work on things. I would help out by bringing parts over or certain books. It wasn't a constant, but it was a nice opportunity. Whenever he came out whether it be to eat or just to greet us, his face showed exhaustion, yet he continued to hold a smile.”

“Would you call him neglectful?”

“Not at all! Other fathers had their TV's, he had his inventions.”

Blanc stared at their glass. Or mine, that I gave to Blanc. Or was it Blanc's, as if not for Blanc, I wouldn't have been able to conjure a glass? Yet, it was mine, for it was me who took the initiative.

“My mother was a quiet, demure woman. Loving, rare to raise her voice. Educate, rather than scold. Kindness to a fault, I would say.”

“So you guys were a family, but separate from each other?” Blanc seemed to be trying to fit together a puzzle whose pieces weren't necessarily meant to fit together.

“We were together. Quite a while. The two were the irritating quiet, a separation I couldn't endure. I was the firebrand. He would always say I had a fiery personality and mom hated how I was quick to yell. She tried to teach me better, I think, but I wouldn't listen.”

“Sounds typical, then.”

I smiled, serene. “Yes, I suppose it was.”

Still silence. This new self was starting to revert to an old, younger self.

“...And I hated it. I saw war and injustice. He toiled away and she stayed silent. In my eyes, she believed that it didn't concern her so no need to worry, and he must have thought there were more important things to do. He was toiling away doing lord knows what, meanwhile there's a war going on that we had no business being in. We were just adding to the massacre.”

“Talking about Iraq? Afghanistan?”

“Vietnam.”

Blanc spit out their drink. How rude.

“How old are you again?” They asked, before stopping themselves. “Right. Time travel.”

Again with the rudeness.

“You just had to bring that up, didn't you?” I scowled.

The memories were returning. Unsure if it was something painful or an addition to the happiness – memories of a life I once lived.

“I remember seeing an article on Stonewall and yelling 'I should have been there!' Maybe I was romanticizing something awful, but I didn't see it that way. He told me, 'there are far more important things' and that sent me flying! I shot back: 'then why aren't you doing them? These are MY people! They fought for something important!' You understand, don't you?”

“I don't know...I don't really think about those kind of things. But I guess it's good if it inspires you,” they shrugged. I must have had a moment of passion, something I would have usually kept in check.

“Instead, do you know what he does? He builds a time machine, uses it, and disappears. I go after him, leaving behind my mom and my girlfriend. Leaving behind my passion. Where I arrived, he was nowhere to be found. Just another device, a cryptic message, distorted image of him. Wherever he was, whatever happened to him, I don't know and I may never.”

Great. I could feel the sting. Tear ducts opening to signal departure. How unbecoming.

“You know, if it makes you happy, you could...”

“Would finding out make me happy? If I find out he's alive, and stuck somewhere I could never reach, then what? Or he's dead and The Flashbulb killed him? I've thought of that, too. Any of those answers would only bring me pain.”

“But if pain leads to happiness...”

“No!” I fired back. “Not my pain. Never my own.”

So that was Etna...or...

“Is there a name you would like, by the way?”

“Vesuvius. I thought of Molly at the start of our conversation, but a little on the nose, if you catch my drift.”

I didn't. Wasn't sure if she did either. I didn't know what a drunk person looked like, but I was pretty sure she was drunk. Then again, I was pretty sure she was already drunk before the alcohol.

“That name makes me happy!” I smiled and nodded.

“Does everything make you happy?”

“I think I get mad sometimes!” Even saying such made me giddy. “I just don't get sad anymore!”

“I see...” She noted, then downed another glass. “I have a question for you, seeing as you asked me about my past.”

“Shoot!” I replied, then remembered the gun she held. Ouch.

“When you broke free, I recall seeing a blade shoot out of your arm. That wasn't something my wife created when she made your prosthetic, was it?” I inquired, my head bobbing as the question arose.

Blanc's eyes widened; a cat's expression for when they want to play. If Blanc had a tail it would have been swishing from side to side.

“Nope!” In exclamation.

“How did you get it, then?”

Blanc placed their finger on their chin. “Maybe I'll tell you sometime!”

“Let me guess: you used those powers of yours?”

“Sorta! In a roundabout indirect way, I think that happened!”

That's when I was certain the truth would come out.

Looking back on the day, a fondness sprouted, a spoonful of honey with a dash of sunshine.

I sat alone at a bench, an overcast day at the park. Children and their parents ran about, I couldn't ignore the commotion. Smile spread, until I looked down and noticed my arm. Although a wonderful parting gift, I still had trouble with it. As this stood, I only had one functional arm. I could move it about but it felt more like the jingling of keys. I couldn't flex the metal parts that would have made up a hand.

Dashing toward me, clacking of heels against pavement.

“Hey! Cool arm you got there!” Prospective mechanic with a suit fashioned more for a businessman greeted me.

“Thanks,” was my reply, and I couldn't help but scratch the back of my head. “This really cool and smart person named Juniper made it for me as a gift!”

“What if I told you I could make it better, though?”

“Oh?” Maybe that would have made me a little happier. Being able to use it.

“Yes! You've inspired me! Come with me to my lab, it's just a few blocks from here!”

I crossed my legs before leaping up from the bench.

“Sure! Not like I was doing anything anyway!”

We walked together, kindred spirits in curiosity. Or me, just hoping to pass the time away until the next event took place. Once inside said building, a cold box of sorts that appeared much smaller on the outside. Crisp air, conditioned and sanitized. Still, so full of life. I couldn't wait to see what this benefactor could do.

Although I would have to part with an arm for a short time, I felt no loss.

“Can I get a hand blaster kind of like Mega Man?” I leaned forward, breaking the engineer's concentration.

“No, but I was thinking of making your arm more sturdy, give it an extra layer of protection. Send signals through to your brain through microscopic wires to allow full range of movement. On top of that, I'll even add a layer of skin on top, so in essence, you'll have a fully functioning arm!”

The lame-ass smarty-pants must have thought so high and mighty after explaining away all that. But that was all boring basic stuff.

“So are rockets out of the question?”

Short pause, a stare.

“What's your deal with wanting weapons so bad?”

I shrugged.

“I just think they're neat!”

Bright and hopeful provider of improvements gave a look of disapproval.

“I'd also like a sword,” I added.

There was a sigh, though it could have been steam from nearby machinery.

“How about this: I can add a button that you can press where a blade can spring forward from the side of your arm. Deal?”

“Hell yes, let's do it!”

“...Are you by any chance the violent type?”

I shook my head.

“Nah, but you never know when it might come in handy!”

“On that note, you can just press the button again and the blade will retract. The artificial skin will even repair itself.”

“You really are all that, aren't you?”

Oh my, I awoke the beast. My improver stood tall, a flashy grin and sparks emanating.

“I really am!”

It took a few months before it was all ready, in the meanwhile I was given a place to stay and even got free food. I would say it was a good deal, all things considered.

“I see,” I noted after having taken another sip. “So in other words, you took what she made for you and trashed it in favor of something better.”

“Well, gee, when you put it that way, do you think she'd be mad at me?”

I shook my head and took another sip.

“No, she's not the type of person. She just likes to help people out, regardless of her skill level. I imagine if she were to find out, she'd just say something like 'I'm glad you were able to make improvements to it and you're doing better now'. Honestly, it's one of the things I don't like so much about her. For as tough as I know she can be, she's uninterested in hurting a soul, even if it's to defend herself.”

I smiled, thinking it would sting to hear such words. Then, I added, “in my opinion, you took advantage of her kindness and as soon as you found something better, you didn't give it a second thought.”

When I looked over, Blanc was still smiling. I think I even heard a little laugh.

“I'm glad to hear she's so forgiving, then!”

I reeled back.

“To think there are people like that! It makes me happy!” Then Blanc swayed their head. “Though I'm really not deserving of it.”

I would have had to agree on that one. “Doesn't matter. She's just like that. If anyone's undeserving of her kindness, it ought to be me. I just appeared one day.” It dawned on me that both Blanc and I just appeared one day. I laughed as well, though stifled.

“I don't think of you as a monster, you know...” Blanc muttered. Wasn't fooling me, though. I heard well enough.

“Who ever said...?” I didn't know where I was going. Room was a blur. I was still on the floor.

“You know, I could never hate you,” Blanc continued, meanwhile tilting the glass as if showing disrespect to the drink. “Regardless of what you do or have done. I told you before, I consider you, Juniper, and Trent to be like a family I never had.”

I sobered up. Or, I would have liked if it was so simple. Still, hearing that was sobering enough.

“Thank you for that.”

I watched as we both drank once more. I was gentle, Blanc chugged it all down, only to spit it out.

That's not how you drink that, you buffoon.

“I on the other hand, know that I may no longer be myself. I don't care, though. I wanted to make sure my friends were happy. The thing is, I may never even see them. I won't know for sure. I'm not as generous as Euphoria; I want to see those I care about happy. I don't care about everyone and everything.”

“That's fair, too, I think. Having this, I feel so great, and I would love to share it, but there's also a strong desire to take as much of it as possible and keep it for myself.”

“The thing is, I did all this, and maybe the only reason I did it was to feel some sort of gratification. Some purpose for doing something. In truth, I really do think well of them, but I'm not even sure if I've even crossed their minds.”

“Do you really believe you aren't loved?”

Blanc looked taken aback. “Why'd you say that?”

“Is it true?”

“I don't know. I don't know if I am or not. How am I supposed to tell?”

I shook my head, as if a mother scolding their child. “You have an angel within you willing to give you their power, you have people who have taken you in with no caveat, yet you still question it? It's like you're happier, but your mind is the same.”

“Yeah, but she...they love everyone!” Blanc protested.

I just shook my head again. “Stubborn as a mule, I tell you what.”

Blanc looked about to say something else, but I interrupted.

“What would your friends think if they heard you?”

I remembered Conrad telling Kelly Roger and Velvet how everything he did was for my sake. Or, for another version of me's sake. I was never there, nor was the version of me that Conrad surely meant. Such forbidden memories I should have been used to by now. Snooping around wasn't great, but the Beige practically encouraged it.

I was sitting at the couch one day at Trent's apartment, flipping through channels on the television, with my good arm, of course. Not that the other was bad, but was just unusable.

Trent walked through the hallway in a robe and saw me.

“See anything good?”

I shook my head. “Everything sucks.” Then I came across something. “Never mind, actually. Everything is awesome.”

Trent leaned his head over. “Ah, the Lego Movie.”

I was in a trance. How something so brilliant could flash before my eyes.

“You know, I probably have to go soon. I could get a call to the hospital at any time. You know how those guys are.”

“Yeah, price gouging everyone. Letting people die.”

Trent winced. “Bad mood?”

Actually, yeah. I think I was. “Metal arm hurts, nothing good on TV. Haven't had coffee. Don't even know if I could hold a mug. Also coffee is gross without a shitload of cream. Can't think of anything fun outside, need an ID to get a job. No money for food. Still can't remember anything about myself, either. So yeah, a little grumpy.”

“Have you thought of using a fake ID?”

“What?”

Trent shrugged. “I mean, I'm not suggesting anything, but I don't see the crime in using a fake ID to get a job. I'm pretty sure my sister's done it before, so it's probably fine.”

“You're telling me...”

“I'm not telling you anything, just an idea.”

“Well, I'll think about it.”

He went over to the kitchen and got himself a bagel. At this point, I wasn't even paying attention to the brick people.

“Do you remember anything at all?” He asked, mouth full of bagel.

“Not really, and it still sucks. I mean, I'm happy living here, I really am, but I still think there could have been this long and epic backstory that's hidden from me and I may never get to see it.”

“I feel ya there. I once looked into the history at the hospital I work at. Did you know that the building used to be used for satanic rituals? Blew my mind.”

“Well, on that note, I think I remember something. I think I remember this computer who kept insulting me.”

“Hmm...sounds like Portal.”

“Yeah, was probably nothing.”

I shrugged, he shrugged. We both went back to our respective tasks. His pager rung, he waved goodbye and ran out the door. I just got to the part where Will Ferrell showed up.

My arms were crossed, I was still steaming in my own grump.

“You know,” I told myself. “Maybe some fresh air will do me good.”

Even though I said that, I knew when I exited that door, I wouldn't be returning. It wasn't so much of a plan as something that fell in my lap. For months and months I had been avoiding the outdoors, living in the care of these people I got to know. But they found me at a park and I thought that maybe if I were to return to said park, I might find a clue or something.

...Looking back, that sounds totally dumb, but as we all know, I am a big dumb-dumb.

“Such a simple day and none of us realized we wouldn't see you again,” I noted. “You know, we missed you. Trent said he saw you before he left. None of us knew what to do. We thought of a missing persons report, but us being careless in our own right, couldn't think of how to word it and didn't really trust the cops. So we just let things go and returned to our lives.”

“That's what I hoped would happen.”

“Why?”

“Just seemed ideal I always felt like this world I dropped off on was the ideal world. Like everything that I could have asked for, even before I regained my memories. Maybe Euphoria really had been with me since the beginning.”

“Euphoria?”

“It's what I call the angel. In reality, I don't think they have a name. But any name is her, their, name.”

“It's a little hard to believe. An angel. But, I know it's true as what else but an angel would grant me such abilities?”

“Maybe some cosmic entity. Don't even know if angel is the right word, but angel makes Euphoria happy. As does anything.”

“Angel, demon. Something we don't understand. Something that doesn't make sense. Something that just works. Kind of beautiful, if you ask me.”

I swayed to and fro. Life sure was beautiful. “So, tell me about these friends of yours?”

“Well, there's Velvet, she's like this super cool secret agent and also this huge dork. I guess I don't know a lot about her but I know she likes to have fun. Then there's Conrad, who's like this super secretive conspiracy nut who hung out at the basement of a college. I want to say Conrad was my best friend, but I hardly knew him. Another version of me knew him very well. I actually knew Velvet more, but I didn't know her for a super long time. Then again, I wasn't alive for a super long time, as it was...” I knew I was starting to ramble. Maybe it was the drink actually taking effect. Or maybe it was just that rambling made me happy.

Vesuvius, as she wanted to be called, was leaning over now, looking at the floor. Her glass, nowhere to be found. She heaved multiple times until vomiting out reddish-black substances. I could smell the stench of blood.

“Hey...are you okay?”

She looked over at me, smiling. “Yes, I guess I'm still not used to it. Such an incompatible thing is a part of me now.”

“Is there anything I can do?” I wasn't sure what was going on. Last thing I know, we were just going back and forth with our small talk. Now she looked like death. Her face had gone red, veins spreading across.

“Just lift me up, please.”

I leaned down and she took my arm. I let her rest her head against the back of my shoulder. Her head bobbed to and fro and I didn't think much of it, but then she sank her teeth into my shoulder and bit out of a chunk of my flesh. I pushed her off. She still stood, staggered.

“I needed more...”

“No way! Nu-uh! You've had plenty.” My flesh repaired itself and the pain washed away.

She gave that sly smile. “You have to be more gentle with me,” she crooned, before spitting out more blood.

I sighed. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Just walk with me out of the room.”

“Fine, but no biting, okay?”

“Not even a little nibble?”

I felt like retching, myself.

“No!”

She fell onto my back and we trudged out of the room. “You know,” I told her. “Once we're out, we'll be going our separate ways. There won't be any more blood you're getting. Are you sure you'll be alright?”

“This new form of mine will take some getting used to, but I'll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“I'm capable. I know how to find my way back to my own time.”

The doors opened and I let go of her. She looked like she was about to fall over, but stood up, her movements stilted. I wasn't sure where she was headed, but what I set out to do was done.

In truth, I didn't need any more blood. What I had been granted gave me enough knowledge to know that it was already a part of me and no amount of purging would change that. I needed an excuse for Blanc to hate me. I needed to act dependent to make sure I would never have to depend on them again. Was I disgusted with myself? Maybe a little, but there were more pressing matters.

I was weakened. More than I should have been. I knew where I was going. I had to go to the source.

Several halls down, along a winding stairwell, lie a room with a large computer in the middle. I walked up to the computer, stared at the foreign buttons and the console, and spoke to it.

“Hello, me,” I pushed my glasses up, hoping it would help me look more composed.

I didn't expect a reply.

“How funny it is that the two of us should meet,” she announced herself. Her presence was somewhere nearby, I could tell. Her icy voice pierced and sent shivers. “What business could you have here? Are you here to shut me down, make sure I leave no impact?”

“No. You know I could do no such thing.”

“What, then?”

“I want you to tell me something.”

She appeared, just as she disappeared. Just a glimpse. She was around me. She was me, somewhere.

“I want you to tell me what happened to my father,” I echoed. Realizing how cliché those words were, how I must have seen similar sentiments in cheesy movies watched at the apartment. Still, she must have known and if she knew, then I had to know.

“You already know.”

“Why would I ask you if I already know?”

“Good question. I too wonder the same thing. Maybe you have been repressing such a memory.”

I grit my teeth, my hands balled into a fist. I shouted the order:

“Just tell me!”

She was somewhere near, in front of me. Far, or close. I should have been in front of the console to the computer, but instead I was on the far edge of the room, and she was in the middle, where I had been. She inspected her nails, a look of disinterest as she didn't dare dignify me with a glance.

“You killed him,” was her response. Passive, such cold apathy.

I already knew her previous forms. I knew my previous forms. I knew so many things I shouldn't have known, so I knew as well that her words were a farce.

“That's just one of those false memories you created for yourself!” I shot back.

“Ah, and what might my inspiration have been? I do not deny being capable of such things, but would you believe I just conjured such imagery from nothing?”

“Why would I...” I didn't want to entertain her further, but I knew she knew the answers, even if she was keeping them from me.

“You were tired of the abuse you and your mother faced. Either neglect one day, or beatings the next. One day you grabbed the pistol he kept stashed and when he wasn't paying attention, you shot him. Shocked by what you had done, you ran off with his time travel device and took on a new identity.”

“That...That makes no sense! He loved us! He disappeared! What about the video that played on the device? I wasn't the only one who saw it! The brother and sister I met saw it too! Juniper and Trent! They both saw it! I know they did! I know he's out there, or was, or he was in danger, but I don't know where, but I know I wasn't the cause!”

She laughed, devoid of any humor or enthusiasm.

“Is that the story you tell yourself? The memory you constructed?”

“I would never!”

Laughter continued.

“When you came here with Blanc, affected by the angel's power, your one source of happiness to end all the panic around you, was to hold a pistol and shoot Blanc. Do you think that was such a coincidence?”

“I...I...”

“You and I both know how capable you are of committing such acts. While it is true that in previous iterations of me, I was born from both yours and Juniper's mind, my cruel side was inherited from you.”

“I'm not!” I fell to my knees. I never knew what I was getting myself into, did I? I never know. That must be the problem. I always want to be in control, but how often does that come true? “I never wanted to leave! I loved my family! I loved my girlfriend! I left so much behind! I had to!”

“Why did you feel you had to?”

“Because...I...didn't know how to go back...”

“Didn't know how to return to that time, or didn't know how to face the consequences of your actions?”

What actions? What actions did I ever commit? Attempt to search for...

“Solace? Your thoughts are my own.”

“No! Search for what I had lost! He disappeared, he...” I was drawing short on breath. Desperation. What else could I even say at this point? She knew whatever response I would make.

“You ask for the truth and refuse to believe it when I tell you.”

“Why should I trust you? You lie, you manipulate, you create false memories!”

“I do not deny any of those. But why should you trust yourself when you do the same?”

I shook my head. I have created names for myself, took on different forms when I needed to. I just couldn't accept that. How many years had I yearned for the truth? That couldn't have been it. I had been searching and I couldn't have been searching for that. No.

“You cannot accept your memories. You pick and choose what you remember and what you forget. Paint a beautiful picture, all for yourself.”

She just kept talking. I couldn't stand it. Why did I come here? Why did I think this would be constructive? My stomach was getting sick again. I was sick of everything around me. She was everything around me. Standing. Judging me. For what? I came here. I came here for answers. Or to destroy her. To show her that I held the power.

“Accept us. Embrace us. Accept yourself.” She, they, all chanted, circling around me. Closing in.

I clutched my head, ready to pull out my hair. I had no weapon to defend myself. To destroy her. She needed to be ended. I had nothing. I just wanted to see them again. To be the child I once was. Attend school, grow up, become respected in whatever field I chose. Or an activist, among a crowd, champion a cause. Instead, all of this had to happen and I don't even know anymore what it was that happened.

“This is who you are,” Each of them took turns whispering in my ear.

“I WANT MY OLD LIFE BACK!” I shouted, screamed, sobbed. My lungs ached, but in time they would heal. I knew because I knew what I was.

“Then take it,” that disinterested doctor stood again, so close, so far. Her glasses and demeaning pursed lips. “You and I both know you're not helpless, girl.”

“I...I don't know how,” I muttered, still sobbing. My arms were on the floor, my back hunched.

“You did it so well when you took from Blanc without consent.”

“I...” I shook my head.

“You came here because you were starting to feel weak and you couldn't take any more from Blanc. You thought you could feed off of me for power. Am I wrong?”

“No.”

“You wish to suck me, even though you and I are already one?”

“Not like that...”

“Did you really believe that by draining from me, you would draw more power? If anything it would be like inflicting wounds upon yourself expecting to gain strength. 'What doesn't kill me...'? Girl, please.”

“I am not you!” I picked myself up.

“I agree. You lack the scope. I can save the world. You are only interested in your own gain.”

“That's not true either!”

“And how do you suppose that? We both have the capacity to bring happiness to the world, yet you would rather focus on your own.”

“That's normal!”

She nodded.

“Maybe so. But whereas I so love the world, you lack any sense of love.”

“My family!”

“Abandoned.”

“My wife...Juniper...”

“She was the first person you latched onto. It could have been anyone.”

Lies. Such a waste of a computer. It could have been anyone. I made my choice and I knew what to do next. End her.

I picked myself up, a new resolve. My body shook. Around me were the various faces of ecstasy, each taking their turn biting into my flesh, laughing and moaning all the while. I pressed on, each pace, further resolve.

In my hands lay a wooden stake which I used to plunge into the heart of the mainframe. In response, liquid red wires sprung out, covering my face, staining my cheeks, smearing my glasses. That furthered my rage and I lifted the stake and slammed it down once more. Again. Again. There was a body forming, the heart of the matter. Some stranger. I knelt down and drank her blood. Tasted nothing like her, nothing angelic. Nothing like myself. I wiped my mouth and removed my glasses. I took a cloth out from my pocket and wiped away the material.

I knew where my home was.

There was no need to worry about Vesuvius. She was capable. She had some of Euphoria in her. There was no doubt in my mind that she could make it back to her own time. Or any time she wanted, for that matter. So, I left the room and whistled, not a worry or care in the world. Happiness was all around me.

“Hey!” Someone called out. I should have just been able to hold a time cube and leave without a hitch.

Maybe she weakened me a little...

I turned around to face two men and without even focusing on their features, my eyes went straight to their badges: Dr. Ridley and Dr. Kraid. Obvious Flashbulb members.

“Uhh...hey!” I waved. “How can I help you, I'm doctor...”

“Save it!” The one with the Dr. Kraid nametag demanded. “We know you're not one of us. For that matter, we know we should erase you from existence here and now if we knew what was good for us.”

Just like I did with one of you guys earlier...

“Are you saying you don't know what's good for you guys?”

Dr. Ridley stamped his foot. “Dammit! Fell right into that one!”

Dr. Kraid looked unamused.

“Do you have any idea what you did? What you unleashed? With Etna able to shift between a holographic form and a physical, she can exist without the need for a computer at any time.”

“And?”

“For that matter, now human Etna is walking around with the same power! We were supposed to keep Etna in check, but do you know what human Etna just did?”

“I believe her name is Vesuvius,” I corrected.

Again, unamused.

“She just went into an empty room and killed an intern! Do you know how hard interns are to come by? Most of us want to get rewarded for our efforts!”

“So...?”

“So now she's loose and could spell ruin for us!”

I shrugged. “Not my problem.”

“But --”

“Not. My. Problem.”

I then walked away and went back to whistling. If they wanted to do something to me, they should have done so then and there.

“Wait!” I recognized the voice as Ridley.

I turned my head.

“How would you like to join us? We could use someone like you!”

I tried to hold back a laugh, but the smile slipped through.

“You know, I was thinking it might head in this direction. Tell you what: when this is all over, maybe I'll think about it.”

In truth I had no intention of saying yes, but I knew it would be happy to hear such an answer. After all, “I'll think about it” sounds like “probably” and “probably sounds like “potential yes”.

I kept walking, meanwhile digging through my pants pocket. Inside was the time cube. I fiddled around with some buttons, unsure what I was clicking, but also sure I knew where I would be headed. Because where I wanted to go was somewhere that would make me happiest.

Whether or not that was the case, well, I'd just have to see.

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