"...I... I saw Trish today..."

 

She finally responds.

For the past half an hour, she'd been laying here directing her muffled cries into my shirt. She burrows her head into my chest and digs her claws into my back even further. I sit with her, wordlessly, trying to console and calm her down, knowing full well this will only ever be a temporary solution to her ailments. I could only feel an ever growing remorse at the situation we ended up with after trying to give ourselves a blank slate.

Looks like there's no use for just burying our problems anymore.

It all seemed fine in the beginning. I'd help her out and she'd help me out. We'd go out together once in a while and try to have a good time. Things weren't quite like they were in our high school days, of course. There was always an air of awkwardness whenever we hung out. We'd run out of things to say to each other pretty quickly, but it did look like she genuinely enjoyed my company.

Our pasts were not something she liked talking about. I don't like talking about it either considering how we broke up, and... everything else, but she actively avoided any mention of anyone we knew back then. Every time I'd try to bring up Reed, Trish, or anyone else she would try to dodge the question and change the subject to something other than that. Not even her parents or Naser ever entered our conversations beside as passing mentions. I even tried asking about her band mates and people she knew at her community college, but she was reluctant to talk about them too. Maybe she wanted to leave it all behind and focus on the future instead, so I went along with it, but all it led to was me walking on eggshells in our conversations and at the same time trying not to stoop as low as having to discuss the weather.

Since she was looking for a job I had offered to put in a word for her at my workplace, but she refused, instead preferring to go job hunting on her own. Surprisingly, in a week, she managed to get one at a grocery store not too far away from mine.

Her meager pay from the retail job was just enough for her to squeeze by rent, and that burden became worse once her savings ran out. I offered her to move into my apartment, but she wasn't very privy to the idea. I obliged. After all, who am I to convince her to move into my apartment. But seeing her get even thinner and more shriveled up than before as time went by made me put out the offer a few more times, and eventually she agreed. All she brought with her were her clothes, miscellaneous amenities, and a mattress. The mattress did take up a lot of the floor, but it wasn't anything we couldn't manage.

She almost threw away her guitar citing that it was useless junk, but I begged her to keep it. I couldn't just let her throw the entirety of herself away. Who knows, maybe someday she'll pick it up again.

All this while I was looking to start doing something. In my free time I started making trips to the community colleges and trade schools around town in hopes to pick up a program. The thought of finally being competent in some real world skill and making money off of it felt nice. Who knows, maybe one day we both could move of this shithole and end up somewhere nice. Maybe she would be there too, if she wants to be.

Our exchanges in the morning were limited to greetings and small talk. Her shift started and ended an hour before mine. Our evening hangouts still did take place as usual, the difference being that we would be exiting and entering the same house.

The atmosphere definitely had changed. The only time we would have met other till now would be for a few hours each week on weekdays and on weeknights. My apartment now felt less empty. Not that I minded being alone in my apartment earlier, but I could sense the little changes that came from having another person live here. I finally bought a cup to keep our toothbrushes and stuff in. Earlier, mine just sat on the side of the sink. We'd play Rock Ring, watch Youtube videos and whatever that I had on me and my computer. She was having fun with it. At least I think she was.

Now that I was with her everyday in the same room, I started seeing things that I would have never seen before and long forgotten. Like the way she slept, the way she woke up, what she did in the evening in the house, the list could go on.

The most prominent thing I realized was that her cheeriness, the little she showed me of, was a facade.

I suspected as such. All the while we hung out together it felt like she was forcing herself to be happy, beneath everything. Maybe I could have talked to her about it sooner, thinking back to it.

It wasn't very noticeable, considering how little there was, but the feathers on her wings being just a little bit thinner every morning. Seems like moving in here finally made her take her guard down, even with how much she has been avoiding me.

And I understand, at least I thought I did back then. I kept maintaining my distance from her, however. Let her have her own time as much as she needed. We weren't close to begin with, and the only reason she's even here is because of my insistence. The least I could have soon after that is give her the space, right?

...

One day, about three weeks into Fang moving in, I get let off early in the afternoon. The manager had something to do with inspections and maintenance. I took up the opportunity to buy ingredients to have a nice dinner for both of us. I'd been looking up cooking videos for a while and thought it'd be a nice surprise. Having pasta, frozen meals and takeout almost everyday was getting pretty boring. Well... It still was going to be pasta, but of the fancy Carbonara type. Can't count on my cooking skills too much. I bagged all of the groceries and a bag of dino nuggets as a treat and set off.

...Can't say I didn't anticipate what I just saw after getting back to my apartment.

I come home to find a disheveled Fang, laying on her bed bloodied and claws up her arms. Any feathers that fell out were haphazardly bunched to the side of the mattress.

Moments after I open the door, she shoots up and sits on her bed. With her eyes she signals her nervousness to me through her overwhelming misery. Her face no longer bore any makeup, not even once in the past two weeks. Dark circles were evident beneath her eyes and streaks of stale tears marked her face.

She could have been doing this everyday, and doing it in the utmost privacy so as to not inconvenience me or anyone.

And me, her good friend, never had once built up the courage to confront her about this.

...She definitely had seemed happier lately. I hadn't noticed any claw marks on her shoulders or arms. Her feathers were growing back too. She was definitely eating and talking more than usual. I thought things were finally taking a turn for the better. Why did I just let this happen? All I could do was put myself in a trance of asking myself where did I go wrong over and over.

And then I hear a sob.

She was crying again. Only then did I notice myself standing on the doorway staring at her for just a little too long. With hurried steps I dropped the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and gently made way to her. I think of quickly grabbing the first aid kit, but tending to her first seemed to be the better idea at the moment.

Then it comes to me: I don't know what to do.

...I sit beside her on the mattress. She was hunched over, with her hands upto her face covering up her eyes. Nervousness stalled me, fearing that a single misstep would ruin things further. At the same time, I knew that the situation would worsen even further if I didn't do anything.

 

"...Hey."

 

...

She didn't respond.

Then, I did something I hadn't dared to do since we got to know each other again: touching her.

I rest my arm over her shoulder.

 

"It's- It's going to be alright. Everything's gonna be alright."

 

...

She offered no resistance. Instead, she leaned into me, and just then, whatever that was holding her back seemed to have gone away. The dam burst.

 

"...Its alright, Fang. I'm here for you. I'm sorry I didn't try to talk to you more. I haven't..."

 

"...Sorry."

 

Fang squeals out a word amidst her sobs.

 

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I should be the one apologizing for..."

 

"Just... look where we are, Anon... I... I'm sorry I just couldn't become normal... I..."

 

"It's okay. It's okay. Just, please don't hurt yourself like this..."

 

Fang continued to cry into my shirt.

I started noticing the cuts on her arms and shoulders. The grooves she dug into them today seemed to be much deeper than I had ever seen. Was it my imagination?

Did she do this to herself every single day?

 

"...did something happen today, Fang?"

 

She didn't answer. I proceeded to repeat my question a few more times.

And then she tells me about Trish.

...

...

Trish. Reed. Naser. Stella. ...The gardening chick I can't remember the name of. Can't say I've thought about any of them much in recent years. Why would I have, anyway? High school was a complete fucking disaster. What was the point in reliving all of those bad memories again?

I have no idea of what became of them. She'd been around those people even before and after I came by. Me getting cold feet over asking her anything and her aversion to discussing anything about her past had left me in the dark about anything that had happened.

...

 

"...Did Trish do something to you?"

 

Fang responds after a short pause.

 

"...No..."

 

"So what's wrong?"

 

"...Nothing...I just...

She...

I saw her in a suit and... she had a little kid with her... and I just... I...

Just... Shit. Look at me. Look where I am, Anon. I'm no better than just some junkie off the street."

 

"Fang..."

 

"I'm going nowhere while that bitch gets to be happy."

 

...

Well, I've known her, and... she's a bitch, but... I don't know the full story here.

 

"Did you talk to her?"

 

"...No."

 

"But-"

 

"She saw me on her way out...

She... She locked eyes with me... and then she left."

 

Fang draws in a sharp breath.

...

After a brief pause, I start speaking.

 

"I... Fang, I know this is hard on you, but you have to tell me what's going on with you, Trish and everyone else. I can't help you if you don't talk to me about this."

 

Immediately, questions start firing in my mind over how poor the choice of words were. Debating what would have been better to say instead and whether I still have time to correct myself.

 

"Wait, I-... Look...."

 

I stop myself and wait for a response.

...

...But she keeps quiet.

...

I don't know what else to say. There's... I...

I don't know what to do.

...

...Taking notice of her bruises again, I let go of Fang and take out the first aid kit.

 

"Hey, let me patch you up. I'll make dinner."

 

Fang sits up again wordlessly. She kept murmuring apologies to me as I tended to her cuts. They were met with my occasional consolation, but I mostly kept quiet out of a mixture of exhaustion and heaviness.

 

"Did you have lunch?"

 

"..."

 

Once I was done, I stood up and gave her the best smile I could muster at that moment. She took one last momentary look at me before dropping down her head once more, still looking miserable.

I take out the bag of half-thawed dino nuggets from the grocery bag on the counter.

The fancy pasta will have to wait.

...

 

 

Looks like keeping my eyes closed hasn't yet granted me sleep.

A quick check of my phone tells me it's past 1 o'clock. Working against the resistance from my mind, I take a look to my side at the mattress below. Even after my repeated offerings to let her take the bed in exchange for the mattress, she refused, saying that it would just be her imposing on me more than she already was.

I could only barely stand the sight in front of me. Splotches of dried blood littered her blanket. Her tattered wings peeked out of her fetal position, marred with lines of red amongst the shoddy patchwork of bandages. A bottle of water and the plate of dinosaur nuggets lied beside the mattress half-eaten. Her entire form looked no different from the homeless people that holed themselves up on the sidewalks.

The bile from my gut starts flaring up once more.

A part of me wishes that I had stopped myself from confronting her in the first place. I could have-...

...I quickly bury that thought away.

This is what you chose, Anon. There's no going back.

...

Our situations feel helpless again once more. We have each other, but is that enough? I thought we would be able to make it together but clearly, that isn't the case.

Would she have gotten help if I had never interfered? Would she still have managed to maintain her friendship with those two? Have I made things worse? Thousands of thoughts race through my body. It feels like the entirety of her wellbeing is in my hands, that one small misstep would ruin everything.

I hear her shift on her mattress. I take one last look at her to confirm that she is asleep, hopefully.

I dread for tomorrow.

...

...

I wake up to the alarm on my phone buzzing. The lack of sleep from last night leaves me feeling more drowsy than I normally would feel.

I take a look to my side to-

Wait. Fang's gone. Where did she-

...The click of the shower door brings a sense of relief in me.

Fang steps out of shower wearing a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. It was one of the two or three shirts she wore everyday. Haven't seen her wear anything else since that time in front of that pizza restaurant.

But that's the least of my worries at this point.

She looks... normal. Our eyes meet for a second before she takes them away. There are bags under her eyes, but otherwise all that her face bore was a neutral expression. The T-shirt hid most of the cuts she had on her from yesterday. There are bandages over the rest...

I check my phone. She's got about half an hour before she leaves.

...Maybe talking with her right now wouldn't be such a bad idea. I start speaking, hoping that things won't go south.

 

"...Hey, I..."

 

"Hey."

 

Her voice was soft, but raspy.

For a moment, I think of how to drop the question of how she was doing. She wasn't doing fine, even I can figure that out. But, still...

Come on. Come the fuck on. Say something. Anything.

 

"...Does it still hurt?"

 

Fang looks up from the blanket and sweater she was folding on her mattress. For a moment, she gives me a stare before taking taking her eyes away, as if I had caught her off guard.

 

"Huh...what?"

 

"...The bandages?"

 

"Oh. No, they're fine."

 

She goes back to folding her clothes.

 

"...Are you sure?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"...

About...So...Uh..."

 

Her movements on the bed had slowed, but they pick up the pace again. She speaks.

 

"...I... I'll be going a little early today."

 

"Are you sure? You... I just think you need to rest right now. You really don't have to..."

 

"I can handle it, Anon."

 

"Fang, yesterday-"

 

"Don't."

 

"..."

 

"Don't... Don't call me that."

 

"...wh-"

 

...

Needless to say, I was confused.

 

"Wh-... Why?"

 

Her face takes on a pained expression for a moment.

 

"...Sorry." Fang says after turning her head away again.

 

...

Time closes in for her to leave, and I am still sitting on the bed without having made much movement. I use my busted phone to make myself look occupied while I try to regain mental composure. My fear of walking into a minefield had not gone down by a bit.

...Maybe asking about something else would be a better idea, wouldn't it? Fine. I'll... I'll ask her if she wants to go to a diner or something in the evening. That will be fine, right?

She's near the door. Just as I'm about to open my mouth, she starts speaking.

 

"...Hey, uh... Call me... Lucy."

 

What?

 

"Just... Call me Lucy. That's my name-... real name, you know, right?"

 

Before I could react, Fang opens the door and quickly lets herself out.

 

 

'Lucy.'

 

...

 

'Lucy.'

 

With great difficulty, I eventually recall a petite pterodactyl woman, possibly in her mid to late 40s, mentioning that name as I clear leftover inventory from the shelves. By now I had realized that I actually did do a successful job of forgetting Fang, except, of course, the most important bits.

Like the night on the beach, for example.

It's weird to think that we even went out with each other, considering how little I know about herself, her friends and her family.

Well... now that I think about it, it's not that weird for relationships nowadays, if you could even call them that. Going by what I've seen on social media, isn't it pretty normal for them to last for like a month or two or even less? Dating apps are all the rage now. If you look good enough, just "swipe right" and you've got your fuck buddy for the day. Then people complain or brag about "body counts." No intimacy going beyond the flesh itself.

...

Rich words coming from someone who never did the deed, isn't it?

...

Were we special?

No. Why would we be "special?" There are hundreds of people that fell into the same holes that we did now. There are hundreds of people that had the same "love story" script as us, dino or otherwise. This isn't anything new. Only it felt...

...It definitely felt special to me. At the time, it felt like the single most unique thing in the world.

Is that what love feels like? To everyone? Or is it just the mind of my autistic self looking back at my only chance of experiencing a relationship with rose-tinted glasses?

Is this what a normal guy would do? Trying to help his ex out after she turns into a-... she loses everything? Or are you just supposed to leave "old baggage" behind and I'm just being a "braindead loser?" It's what they-

 

"Hey, you alright?"

 

Whoah-

 

"Yeah- yeah I am. Thanks."

 

"You'd been spaced out for a while."

 

I look to my side to find my somewhat familiar coworker standing beside me with a cart full of new groceries, A skinnyfat parasaur guy with a goatee. He's... Alright. Mostly.

 

"...It's nothing, just didn't get much sleep yesterday."

 

"Oh. Hey, you wanna go with us after the shift? Jeni's says she's got her hands on some some good stuff again."

 

"...Uh, sorry. I won't be able to make it tonight. You remember the community college thing I talked about earlier? I need to go into town again."

 

"Ah, all cool bro."

 

He breaks off the conversation and starts making his way to the nearby isle with the shopping cart. That was an excuse. Well, Sort of. Probably shouldn't be avoiding people like the plague, but at the same time I'd rather not be around my current peers if I can help it.

You know, it's always been like that for me. Maybe that's why I don't have friends. Others always seemed to have a way with people, whether they blended in naturally or made a conscious effort to do so. Looking back, it's not like I haven't ever tried, but I did give up somewhere along the way. Having hobbies and interests far removed from the general populace's tastes doesn't help, but there's something more to it.

Even the dregs of society can find themselves company. I couldn't, and I don't know why. The only ones I decided to occasionally put myself around were people as faceless as-

 

Autism. It's the autism.

 

Well, that's part of it, but...

 

Look, it doesn't matter what kind of mental illness it is. We've been over this a million fucking times.

You can't hold a fucking conversation with anyone.

You squander every opportunity to make connections with other people.

You're just can't get a fucking read on what other people are thinking.

You're just incapable of giving a fuck about other people unless it's hurting you.

You'll never experience true companionship. You're just that unlikable.

She's lost everything. She's going to leave you. She's going to kill herself.

All because of you.

You'll die alone.

You know that.

 

...

...Shit.

I go on about my work, Hoping to end my shift soon.

 

 

Fuck. Shouldn't have gone today.

My mind wanders back to events past as I sit on the bus on my way back home from downtown with a set of college brochures in hand. I couldn't help but feel guilt over what I missed out after seeing the people around the campus, especially after learning that I don't have a way of getting in without a GED. Yesterday's events only served to exacerbate my current condition.

To tell the truth, I still haven't made up my mind over whether I actually want to go to community college or just get a bunch of CompTIA certifications. Who knows whether doing this stuff is even worth the effort. Continuing to live on welfare and on the money from my retail job seems like a very attractive option, which makes it all the more difficult to take the decision. Will I be the biggest fucking moron for going through with it?

I promised to better myself for her and my own sake, but... No. This isn't going well. This is horrible. I don't even know if I'm doing the right thing. All I could do now was wait for the eventual confrontation with her back at my apartment.

The bus eventually reaches my stop and I get off. Home was a brisk 10 minute walk away.

...

There is no feeling of anxiousness in me, surprisingly. My mind draws a blank as to what to say to her beyond the obvious, as if it's giving up entirely. For a moment I think of dropping the question of... therapy. I immediately shoot it down considering we're just barely getting by and... goddamnit. How do I even tell her that to her face? How do even I know if that would help her?

I... Fuck.

As I take slow steps towards my destination my mind fills up with more and more fog trying to dodge the question of salvaging this somehow. The coolness of the air or the sun starting to set were seemingly more interesting topics than getting her help...

...Well, here's the final stretch of road. This is it.

After getting a few steps closer to my apartment, I get hold of a certain familiar sight.

Something I've seen a couple of yards away from her old apartment.

Something I've seen stop in front of the restaurant Fan-... Lucy worked at.

Something I've seen parked close to my apartment on more than one occasion.

...

Well, It's worth a shot.

I walk up to the cop car parked nearby and put myself against the front seat window. I give a knock against the dark tinted glass.

 

"Hi, uh..."

[POST-NOTES]
    Better late than never, amirite? Haha...

    I thought of putting out the whole thing at once but I wanted to show some progress, plus the point where this chapter ends feels kind of nice.

    I'll hold off my thoughts and comments on this till the last chapter. It shouldn't take as much time as I know what to do now, for the most part.