Summary: The Hanged Man - Dehumanize yourself and face to bloodshed. “Hey, have you heard about Naser”? “The Track boy, right”? “That’s the one”. “What about him”? “You’ll never guess who his sister is”. “He has a sister”? “Tumblr-saurus herself”. “Whaaat? Now that’s a contrast”. “And she’s with that human. The one from the presentation”. “Loser-on-loser, you hate to see it”. “Yeah, and-like, with Naser’s girlfriend, the prez – it’s like pottery”! “Haha, school darlings and school dorks running in parallel. That’s poetic stuff”. Of all the things I’ve learned, all of the things I’ve experienced in my young life, I can claim one thing for certain: Kids fucking suck. Everything kind of sucks, but, come on, I’m right over here you dicks. Pisses me off. I can feel the hairs on my head growing grayer by the day. I’m on my last leg here – I thought, “Hey, Anon? Not the biggest fan, but if Fang’s happy then let’s see where this goes”. Honestly? I’m not seeing a whole lot of improvement. I’m not seeing a whole lot of anything! Where the hell is my sibling? Who’s talking to me? Naomi? I can feel the pressure mounting, like a vice-grip on my crest. White noise blaring in my mind. I’m going to go postal. I pick at my food, I don’t have an appetite. It doesn’t even feel like I have a stomach, just an incubating pit of stress and worry. She’s trying to talk to me, but it’s just another noise. It’s all mixing together, I can barely hear a thing – it’s all coagulating into one static ring. And then everything stops. It feels like a dull thud in the back of my head. A sudden painful shock; a switch flips inside me. Suddenly I’m locked inside my head, but I can feel the whirlwind of emotions that had been bottled inside of me being metastasized into action. I’m running, a violent electricity is burning through my body. White-hot intensity is blinding me. My body is moving on its own – racing through the halls, bursting through doors. And then, I’m flying. I wish I could fly; from the clouds, all of my problems would be colorful little specks on the ground – the ground that I’m falling towards pretty quickly, “Ahh-fuck”! At first the landing was relatively soft, I impacted on some flower beds. But as gravity continues to tug at me, I feel thorns sinking through my clothes and digging into my scales. The pain I felt, however, is nothing compared to the pain in the scream I’m hearing from someone else, “Aaeee! My roses”! Seems like I booked it all the way to the garden. As the emotion and adrenaline drain out of me, I feel my senses return. Everything hurts, “What the hell do you think you are doing? Flying in like a bat out of hell”! “I-I’m… Shit… I’m sorry Rosa…” I look up at the Ankylosaur, her worried affect betraying her angered tone, “Sorry is not cutting it, Naser. Give me your arm”. She takes me by the wrist and pulls me up with unexpected strength, the thorns tear at me one last time before resigning to my departure. I steady myself against her and get my bearings. At my feet, a bed of roses lay ruined. My clothes aren’t that torn up, but I’ve got some cuts on my face. No one else seems to be here, save for a green Stegosaurus eating her lunch on one of the benches. She quietly surveys the two of us, “Aye, Naser, you are helping me here before lunch is over”. “Yeah, I will”. Instantly I’m put to work, but, oddly enough it’s not putting much pressure on me. As Rosa guides me through, things feel more meditative than anything, “Are you not going to tell me what that was all about Naser? You scared us half to death”! I hesitate for a second; do I really want to tell her? I guess she knows about Fang and Anon and all, but… Oh, she’s giving me that look. Naser, you know where you’ve seen that look before: Mom. If you can't trust her with some of your burdens, then you can’t trust the world. “I’m just… going through a lot of things. I guess I kinda flew off the handle”. She looks at me skeptically while picking dirt from under her claws, “That looked worse than just ‘flying off the handle’ Naser. Is this about Fang”? “You could tell that easily, huh”. She chuckles lightly, “I worry about that girl sometimes”. “But it’s more than just Fang, my family, Naomi, all of the things I have to be responsible for, Everything that I have to balance on my plate. It’s… It’s really getting to me”. I said too much, didn’t I? I barely know Rosa, who am I to use her as an emotional dumping-ground? But, she’s hugging me. It’s really warm and tight. Do I deserve that? I haven’t been a good boyfriend, I haven’t been a good brother, and I haven’t been a good son, “Oh, you boys, keeping everything inside. Naser, don’t worry so much about your sister, you need to sort yourself. She has An-on, right”? I balk at that. “Please, if you ask me, he’s not doing much for her. She’s the same as ever”. She pinches the bridge of her snout with a frustrated affect, “Oh that boy… You know what? Let me take care of it, Naser. You need a break. I can finish with the roses, go to that girl of yours”. Wait, what? “What are you going to do”? She turns to me and puts a hand on my shoulder, “I’m getting those two off of your plate, now go, shoo”! I wonder what the hold up with Anon is? I’m thumbing around my phone for a while before uncle Moe comes back to the booth, “Ay, Lucy. Anon’s gonna be held up in da kitchen for a bit, but he’ll be back, right along wich’ ya pie”. “You’re putting him through the ringer, are you”? He gives a hearty laugh, “Eeyup! When we’re done, he’ll be ready ta take the place ovuh”. That dummy could learn a thing or two in there. I’ll let it slide. “Just make sure he comes out in one piece, alright”? He raises his eyebrows and gives me a sly grin, “No promises.” And with that, he’s on his way back into the kitchen. It’s gonna be a bit of a wait. I sit back and let my mind take over. Alright Fang, how am I doing today? I’m thinking… a hard five to a light six. Alright, the mastodon in the room: What’s up with Anon? It’s not like it’s anything terrible, it’s just… A lot – a lot of change in a very short amount of time, in fact. I look deeper inside of myself, I’m not sure exactly what I’m looking for. There’s a Flying Dutchman with lavender accents. There’s a stage with brilliant lights, along with an adoring audience just waiting to be floored. There’s Dad – he’s bouncing me in his arms, holding me close, telling me that he’ll always love me. Let’s forget about that one. There’s Anon, what exactly is he to me? He shouldn’t be as much as he is, but he is. Just by him being here, it feels easier for me to be me. Me… Me. I’m the problem. Anon’s trying to be better person for me, isn’t he? I’m barely a person at all. Why did he start now? Why couldn’t he have been more of an asshole so that I could just drop him? What am I thinking? My phone buzzes, snapping me out of my stupor. It’s a call, from… Rosa? “Uhh… Ahoy-hoy”? “...The Hell are you!... Anywhere!... ass over…” “You’re calling from the school, right? Reception is real crappy”. “...NOT?... Swear to raptor jes…” “I’ll call you back, Rosa” “YOU BETTER-” Aaaaaannd done. Good talk. Man, where’s my food? Anon better be hustling in there. I look around, and see Uncle Moe walking towards me, no Anon in tow unfortunately. He taps on the table and sits across from me in the booth, “Alright Lucy, while your food’s heatin’ up, I wanted to have a little talk wich’ ya. That alright”? “Umm… Okay”. He takes a deep breath and looks at me solemnly, “Alright, I’m not gonna pretend to know what an ‘animay’ is-” What, “But I know whatevuh happened ‘cause a dat, you two are in deep wid’ eachudduh. But Anon didn’t have his head screwed on right, and if he kept on doin’ what he was doin’, neither o’ yous woulda turned out so hot”. “But, Anon didn’t do anything-” “Exactly. Now, I get it, he’s a kid, y’know? Can’t expect ‘em to catch on all o’ da time, but hell, I didn’t know he was gonna have to play Dr.Philosoraptor for things to work out. Here I was, givin’ him advice when you was da one that needed a talking-to”. You see? Even Uncle Moe knows it. You’re all kinds of fucked-up and it’s leaking everywhere, like a nasty period, “Listen Lucy, you talk to Naser much”? “No…” “And why’s dat”? “I…” Here come the waterworks. Right in front of Moe? Disgusting, “Hey now, Lucy. Things are gonna be fine. Ya know ya brotha loves ya”. He gets up to move closer towards me, and his hand finds its way to my shoulder. “But why? Look what happened to him – because of me”! “He’s ya brotha! He knows ya didn’t mean nuttin’ by it”. “So then I get to see him suffer more and more for his bitch sister, makes me feel real good”. “You oughta tell him, then! Kid probably thinks ya hate him – tryin’ ta do everythin’ for his big sis just ta be shut out”. “What do I do”? “Just talk ta him. He’s ya brotha, if yous got no friends left in da world, he’ll be there”. “Yeah… Okay”. He gives me a toothy grin before going on, “That’s not all kid, maybe talk ta old man Rip sometime! Yous don’t know how many bowlin’ nights he’s ruined wit’ his ‘aahh my little girl is leaving me Moe’ and ‘I just want my daughta back’. I’m tryin’ ta hit pins for chrissake”! Oh Dad… “I’ll do my best, Uncle Moe”. “Damn right, kid. Ya gotta whole lotta people that love ya; I know that makes ya look like a chump ta those music punks, but you can’t let that control yous. Family – dat’s important. Trust me, I’m an expert on family. And by da looks of it, Anon’s on his way in there right beside ya”. Maybe things aren’t so bad, then. I can talk to Naser, Mom and Dad, Anon, I… I just still feel so lost. I can probably figure things out. I just need some time. Moe snaps around and beams with delight, “Well, speak o’ da Devil, and he shall appear”! I turn to look in the direction Moe’s facing, and sure enough he’s there. He walks towards us slowly, balancing a large, meaty pizza in one hand. He’s wearing an apron over his green jacket, and a cute little chef's hat to boot, “Somebody order a fuckin’ pizza”? I look at him, and his smile tells me everything I need to know. I feel a heavy pressure rising and releasing in my chest, There’s no doubt about it – that’s the feeling of love.