#thinkin about plural joel again

[playername-player-of-games]

It’s scary.

Joel lays on his back, no armor, no wings, sinking into the mattress and the pillow, eyes shut.

He’s never done this before. He’s scared.

He sinks into the darkness, exhaustion slipping over him like waves on a shoreline. He blinks.

And there’s six-year-old Joel.

It’s sitting with its legs folded, holding a doll version of Etho in one arm and a fish-Lizzie in the other. There are tiny wolf ears coming out the top of his head. It’s wearing cargo shorts and the yellow life series hoodie. It’s glaring up at him.

“You’re mean,” it says.

Joel sighs, sitting across from it. “I know.”

“You don’t think I’m real.”

“Sorry.”

“You won’t let me talk to Etho.”

“I won’t let you tackle Etho,” Joel corrects. “I’d let you talk to him if you didn’t also want to cling to him and never let go.”

“That’s not just me!” it shouts, “you wanna hug him too!”