It was cold from the start.

The hallways, my heart

Aching, yearning, feeling the burden of

still here, still me

breathing out a sigh

everytime.

Praying for something

but

empty hands get filled with

pencils and paperwork.

The flurry makes me

quietly stroll through

passive days, restless nights

lonely cries, reckless bourbon flights.

Self hatred and all my scars leaving

stains on my skin, from where I've been.

Tossing and turning sideways in the

morose crypt that my mind was always in.

All day, all night with

no visitors in sight.

Losing hope as the light in the sky

recedes, leaving me to

try to make something out of nothing

running

always running.

But I can only ascend when

the high doesn't die.

But what if when

it goes, I go?

But then...

I saw you. You smiled.

and in a second

the sun warmed my skin and

I could feel it's

tender embrace

banish all the bad parts of me.

Suddenly you saw me and

I was loved.

I was bright.

And it all looked so much better

in the light.

In a second I was

a beautiful me.

Free from the past

just accepted and seen

for the person I always wanted to be.

You smiled

and there it was.

Sheer bliss and me

in the same room, finally.

Happy and free.

The city's lighting up. Racing through the backroads, my mind's alive.

High, in the lowest place.

Through the dark, all I see is blue.

And you. Somewhere else.

Somewhere new.

I don't know what's out there. Past the crevice.

I travel the streets. Searching. When I turn the corner there's always someone new.

I make another wrong turn.

It's exhausting being on foot this long. In the sanctimonious quiet, I sip sangria on a side street. Cars go by. No speed limit. I lean back, relaxing my shoulders, holding my head high. Where should I go? Thoughts pass me by. I acknowledge them. Some acknowledge me. We're not on equal footing in here. I ask for directions.

"You, over there," I say to the fellow at the table across from me.

He doesn't acknowledge me.

"Hello? I'm talking to you,"

He looks over at me, unimpressed.

"What? What do you want? I'm busy," He says. With no other people on the street, the sound of his clinking glass as he takes a sip seems to echo everywhere.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, what direction are you headed in?"

He sips his beer, looking out at the street.

"Graduate school probably. Maybe a Masters program. At least, that's what you're thinking,"

I sigh in exasperation.

"I need to know how to get there. Can you be more specific?"

"Is that where your going?" He replies in an incredulous tone, unconvinced.

I lean back in the chair, looking up at the twinkling of all the nerve endings shooting off across the hollows of my mind.

"I don't know. I don't know. I just...I just want to go home,"

"Okay, where's home?"

"I don't know" I say. A mind without a home is the sea without a shore.

"But I can hear my name. Somewhere. Sitting on someone's tongue. They don't even know they're gonna say it yet. But I know! Somehow I just know that they will, and it feels like the truth and I may have some doubt but I don't question it I just accept it. I can feel it, farther than I can see it,"

He looks at me.

"Really? 'Cause I don't hear anything," He says dryly, looking away.

"It's not...it's hard to explain, okay?"

I busy myself with another Sangria that the waiter brings me. The timing is sublime.

The man across from me looks annoyed, but doesn't move to leave.

"Okay, so..."

"Uh, what do you mean?" I ask, momentarily confused.

"What are you going to do?" He asks, standing up.

"Well, I thought I might take the bus," I say, motioning over my left shoulder in the direction of the deserted bus stop.

The man starts laughing.

"Oh, no no no. You can't do that." He says, using his cane to skirt some pebbles on the cobblestone ground.

I frown, not comprehending.

"Why not? That's how people get places around here, isn't it?"

He shakes his head, his smirk never leaving his face.

"No one takes the bus," He says matter-of-factly.

"Why not?"

"Because it won't run,"

"Why?"

"Because the driver hasn't made up his mind," He says in a tone that suggests he's reasoning with a child and failing miserably.

"Are you kidding?" I say sharply.

He stops in the middle of the street, turning to face me.

"No, no I'm quite serious. The bus doesn't run until the driver makes up his mind," He says, turning back onto his path and crossing the street.

"Wha...makes up his mind about what?" I ask, following him down the empty intersection. The tapping of his cane makes up for the empytiness that fills the streets.

"About where he's going. He hasn't made up his mind yet,"

"Really? And when is that supposed to happen?"

"No one knows."

"Well, how long has it been since it stopped running?" I ask, baffled.

"A few years, maybe more,"

"Great, great." I say, sarcastically, almost shouting the words. I feel so desperate, and I surprise myself by sitting right where I am and breaking down into sobs.

In the street. In public. In anger and frustration.

"Calm down, it's not that upsetting."

"I thought you left," I said.

"No," He looks off for a minute, smiling, looking older than he appears to be for that minute.

"It's funny. I did leave for a while. But then, somehow, I wound up back here again. I came back. On the street, trying to figure this out too,"

I tried to stop crying.

"Look, I've been lost before and I'm fine. I never stay lost for very long anyway. But I think, you need to find a way, or something. Here, take this,"

I look up. He holds out key on a keychain. It jingles.

I take the key hesitatntly. There's a pause while I examine it.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure there's a parked car nearby somewhere. It's a Subaru, nothing fancy. It could help you."

"You, don't know where it is?" I ask, surprised.

"No. I mean, there's only so much that I can know. But maybe you could find it,"

"Thank you," I say, after a minute. It feels like a precious gift.

"See you later,"

He departs down an alleyway, footsteps receding into the darkness.

I feel scared, scared to be here in the dark. The streetlights dimly light the cobblestones, but the warmth of the car makes me hopeful. It warms me up to think of it, as the night's so cold. So I walk on, toward what I know, spinning the key on my right index finger.

Somehow, I feel a little more at home.

Walking down the hall, it felt like a dream. I reached out, letting my fingers graze the walls, tracing a path in the dark. I could see the light fade as the door to the outside shut behind me. The shadows crept in the lfow of the floodlights. And the silence was consuming, like I was walking in a vaccuum. Without any air. I followed the darkened hall down to the second floor landing. My breathing got louder. It felt more difficult.

'This is a terrible idea' I thought, knowning I was putting myself in danger. But I felt compelled, and I couldn't help carrying on in reckless abandoment of what I used to call morals. My impulse for self preseveration was hanging by a thread, and I could feel it become undone as I made my way off the landing and down the stairs. The gym was large, and as I reached the first floor I hoped that someone would come find me. I wished that someone was looking for me. Somewhere in the dark. I hoped someone would catch me in the act, so I could get what I deserve. So I could get what was already coming. But it wasn't going to happen. I just wasn't that lucky.

I hesitated, a few feet away from the storage room door, repressed emotions crashing down on me and loud in the dark.

'It's not to late. I can still turn back, away from this,'

But then he called out to me.

"I hear you standing out there. Come in,"

The voice was welcoming to hear, and much too tempting to ignore. I opened the door to see the devil standing there.The one making me tremble as I shut the door behind me.

He was handsome, and he was awful. I instinctively turned to run from the danger.

"Where have you been? I've been waiting for a while,"

I shut my eyes, reluctant to face him. He was leaning against the work bench in the middle of the room, facing me.

"I got held up, by something" I said.

“I see,” I didn’t know if he did, but he sidestepped the issue all the same.

“Well let’s get down to business. Where's my flash drive?”

I reached in my pocket and pulled it out.

"No one saw you?” He asked, looking impressed.

“I have a way of getting in and out of places unnoticed,” I said offhandedly.

“I don’t see how,” He said, really looking at me. His tone caught me off guard, and I suddenly felt guilty for what I’d done. Theft was not in my usual repertoire. But…

He looked satisfied, watching as I wrestled in self-conflict. He suddenly gave me a warm smile as I looked up, and I felt like all the lights in the building had turned on. I couldn't help but smile back, instantly regretting it as he laughed at me. I reluctantly crossed the room and dropped it in his outstretched palm. I backed away quickly but he was faster catching my wrist in his grip.

"I'm sure I can trust you'll be discreet about our transaction?" He said, the depth of his voice making me sink into the floor. My heart started racing.

"Has that ever been an problem with us?" I answered back, ripping my hand away. He was trying to provoke me.

"I think we can both keep a secret. I know I can," The smirk lingered on his face as he rubbed the hand he'd used to grab mine, with a thoughtful expression. I looked at him. He almost seemed effected by, emotion? It was hard to tell.

"Yeah? Well you better keep this one,” I said, looking at him. He was reading my face like an open book. I could see that. But I ignored it, carrying on like the cold-hearted person I wished I was.

“I'll just head out then. See you never,"

"What did you tell the police?"

I turned, hand on the knob.

"What?”

“I know they called you in for questioning. That's why you were late, right? What did you tell them?" He crossed his arms.

“Oh, I see what this is," I said, turning directly to face him. "You want to know if I told them about us, right?"

“Did you?” He asked.

I looked at him.

“No, I didn't think to mention it,” I said, sarcastically.

He leaned over in a chuckle.

“I thought your code of honesty would have compelled you to tell them everything. I could almost interpret that as caring,"

I snorted.

"Don't flatter yourself. I don't want people to know, okay? It's my business,"

"I think you might have broken the law withholding that," He said, amused.

I sighed, already frustrated.

"Whatever. I've certainly done worse," I said, looking at him with full implication. Then I had a thought.

"Didn't the police speak to you earlier?”

"Yeah, they did,"

"So what did you tell them?"

"I didn’t know her. Honestly I’m not the person to ask,"

"Really. That’s suprising, because you seem to take the time to get to know your students so, intimately. It makes me think otherwise,"

He seemed annoyed again.

"I didn't, I haven't since...since we stopped," He ran a hand through his hair, looking away. Silence filled the room again.

"I'm surprised they spoke to you, actually," He said suddenly.

"Why?" I said.

"You're the only one that they've interviewed from her class so far. They've been questioning people who they think might be close to Sarah. I was surprised to see you on that list. I thought you didn't have friends,"

"Well, I’m not surprised you’d think that, because you don’t know me Ethan. You never did," I started past anger and resentment boiling over. "This whole thing was a ridiculous charade that you-”

His look cut me off. I started over.

“-that I, never should have started,”

"Ha. That's rich,” He said, making the notion sound ludicrous, almost making me question myself. He made his way over to me. Shivers ran down my spine.

“Oh I know you. You think I wasn’t paying attention when you were spilling all your secrets? I could see it all the time. I’m pretty keen Marcie, I saw a lot of things. You think I didn't notice the way you looked at me then? The way you're looking at me right now? I could see it in your smile...I could feel it in your hands," He suddenly sounded angry.

“Are you telling me that you still can’t admit to yourself that-“

"Stop it." I cut him off. The situation was starting to overwhelm me. I tried to catch my breath.

"I’ll tell you, the real reason that I actually came down here, ok? I think...I think you had something to do with this whole thing," I finally said, leaning on the workbench now. I tried to steady myself but my hands were shaking.

His expression changed.

"What?"

"I think you hurt someone. That girl, Sarah,"

He still looked confused.

Unsteady, I leaned away from the table, accidently knocking over a plastic cup full of screws. They scattered on the floor, the harshness of the sound rattling off the walls.

"I saw you with her. She went into your office that day. I saw her go in after the exam. You both left together that afternoon,”

He looked surprised. He didn’t deny it.

"You were spying on me?"

I ignored his quesiton.

"Her mom said she never made it home after class. I think you must have been the last person to see her that day. I’m sure of it,"

There was an agonizingly long pause, while he didn't meet my gaze.

"What is it that you think I did?" He asked. I watched as his fingertips gently grazed the top of a box cutter sitting on the toolbox bench. I couldn't tell if it was deliberate. It was becoming hard to breathe, and I was soon starting to feel like I'd made a huge mistake.

"I don't know..I think you're..." I said, losing words fast.

He paused, looking slightly amused.

"Why, do you think I hurt her? Because I hurt you?”

I felt like he’d hit me in the face. I stepped back.

“You don’t know what you're talking about,” I said, feeling mortified. He couldn't know, he couldn't know that-

"Let me get this straight,” He started. “You have no proof, you didn't tell the police anything, and you still think I'm involved somehow?"

“How do you know that I didn’t just tell them everything? I could have lied,” I said, starting to regret having been honest.

He laughed.

“If you’d told them anything I wouldn’t be walking around. A girl is missing Marcie. I'm a professor with past indiscretions, and a temper. Who do you think they’ll suspect first? I think you’ve got me all figured out. But if that's the case, why would you have risked coming here?" He said. I was too surprised to answer.

"I’ll tell you why, if you won’t say it. I think you like seeing me. I think that's why you came here,"

I laughed bitterly.

"I don't know what you're talking about, okay? You paid me to steal that flashdrive, and I did. That’s it. Besides, I didn’t have feelings for you then. I don’t now. Why would you think that’s changed at all?” Lie after lie; They wouldn't stop flooding our of my airways. He saw everyone single one. I couldn't get around him to the door. I couldn’t see pass his skepticism either.

"Oh spare me. I can see it in your face,"

He walked over to me. I froze as we both realized that in a possibly absentminded moment, he had picked up the box cutter on his way over.

I could hear his breathing. I could hear my breathing.

What the hell is happening? Is he…hesitating?

I watched him as he watched me, put the box cutter down…only to pick it back up and unsheathe the blade, smiling.

“Here. Is this what you want, for me to be a killer-” He was advancing quickly, dominating the space between us. I fearfully backed up, scared by his intensity.

“Do you really think I'm capable of doing something terrible? Something monsterous?” He said, backing me into the wall. His mouth hovered over mine for the longest time. It felt like a standoff, and no one moved. I was to afriad to. The tension was too high. I knew the knife was nearby but I wasn't focused on it. No one said anything for a while. We both fought our instincts.

“I...I don't know Ethan. Maybe... I don't know you as well as I thought,” I said, matching his intensity.

“God you're both pathetic, ” said a voice.

We both turned. Sarah was standing at the door.

“What the fuck,” I managed to say.

“How did you…what are you…“

“Really Ethan? Can you not help it or something? How many students do you have to fuck?”

“It’s not like that,” He turning to face her. I looked on, super confused.

Its not like that?

“This isn’t what it looks like-“ I started, but she cut me off.

“Whatever Marcie. I already knew about you two. I think everyone does,”

I glanced at Ethan.

“I came to settle something with Professor Hendricks, alone,"

She said, giving me a look of disdain.

“But since you’re here, let’s get on with it” She said with enthusiasm, picking up another box cutter on the table and unsheathing the blade.

“Where have you been Sarah?” Ethan asked.

“Around. I thought it might be more incriminating if your former student went missing weeks before another one of them turned up dead,” She said, looking at me.

“Sorry, what?” I managed to say.

“I just figured that when the police come around to ask me what happened, I’ll tell them that I fled for fear of what Ethan might do to me. After all, he’s an unbalanced man, and when I broke up with him-“

She took a violent swing with the box cutter, slashing at us. Ethan pushed us out of the way. I screamed.

“-he didn’t take it very well. He might hurt someone. It looks like he already did,” She said, eyeing me, feigning fear in her voice.

“That’s not what happened,” Ethan said, standing slighly in front of me.

“You know that. Put the knife down-”

“Oh I don't think you want to tell me what to do right now. I don't respond well to commands. You know that. You started this Professor E. I’m just here to finish it. You and your girlfriend,”

“You’re not gonna kill us,” He stated.

“I’m not his girlfriend!” I cried.

“You’re right” She said.

“Not at the same time," She said, sounding calculating "I’m gonna kill her,”

I watched, terrified as she pointed the knife at me.

“Then you, in that order. I think we'll just kill you,"

"I didn't know you had a thing for killing," Ethan said.

"I think it's been the turbulence of the twenties. It's hard to cope with sometimes. Or it could be all the cocaine. I'm not really sure,"

"So your plan is to kill us, with a box cutter?" Ethan asked.

"Maybe. Bill brought a bat. Honey come in here!" She cried.

A young curly-haired guy wearing a baseball cap stormed in, holding a bat in one hand.

"This was all his idea," She said, kissing him.

"I also brought the knife babe. I know you like it," He said, smiling, kissing her back.

"You know what I like," She replied. They quickly locked lips with an inappropriate amount of passion that didn't seem right, given the situation. They were soon a hot mess of hands and hair, spilling over onto the nearby workbench.

"Ethan," I whispered, scared out of my mind.

"We need a plan,"

"Stick to the walls. Whoever gets to the door first gets help," He said, looking at me.

"Okay,"I said, squeezing his arm. He nodded.

I grabbed a one of the heavier bolts lying on the counter. Ethan had a boxcutter already. I eyed the powerdrill.

"Okay, she's going first. Step up Marcie. Which one?" She asked, motioning to Bill's armory of weapons.

"I'm, going to have to pass," I threw the large metal bolt at the only ceiling light in the room. The fuse eruped, lighting the entire room in an instant, then-

Complete darkness.

The silence was nerve-racking. Only our ragged breathing could be heard from four people in a pitch black storage closet. I covered my mouth.

Someone moved swiftly to my left. I heard Ethan cry out as he intercepted it, as more things clattered to the floor. A fight ensued. I was terrfied, hardly able to move. I picked up the pace. If one of us didn't get to the door then we were both going to die here.

I was inching forward, when my leg grazed another. I paniced, immediatly trying to scurry out of the way. But someone quickly grabbed my right ankle and I soon felt something sharp go into the back of my thigh. I screamed in agony, as the knife went in again, and again, and again. I heard Ethan yell my name. I reach out for something, finding the leg of a metal stool I'd seen earlier. With andrenaline-powered strength, I grabbed the handle and hurled it behind me. It must have hit Sarah because she cried out in pain, falling away from my leg. I quickly scrambled away with one leg, moving forward. But I didn't know if I could stand.

Suddenly the door flew open. Bill let the light in, limping, looking bruised up.

Ethan rushed up from the dark and hit him with the bat, looking bloodied himself. I looked on. In the light, it almost looked cinematic. Ethan's animosity was terrifying. Undoubtedly, Bill went down. I could hear Sarah moaning in pain somewhere. Ethan saw me and quickly picked me up. I could feel the urgency in his step as we headed for the nearest exit, telling me how bad my leg must have looked. I turned, glancing back at the entrance of the storage room. From what I could see, there was blood everywhere. I looked away.

"Ethan," I murmured, feeling the pain in my leg. I felt strength seeping out of me, as droplets of blood hit the flooring, marking our path out of the building.

"Don't talk, you're losing a lot of blood. I'll call the police and we'll get you to a hos-"

"I lied," I said simply, reaching out to touch his angelic face, getting blood on his cheek.

"I know. I...you're the reason that..."

He looked down at me, and for the first time since I'd known him I saw an expression on his face I'd never seen. Adoration.

"I couldn't seem to shake you, no matter what I did. I couldn't get you out of my head. Ever since then, I know you think we were a mistake. It was, inappropriate, to say the least. But I don't regret us at all," He said. We were in the street and after he called 9-1-1 he started wrapping up my leg in his car. He'd driven us far away fromt the building, somewhere safe. I was starting to pass out, but I didn't want to. I didn't want this dream to end.

"Hey, everything going to be okay," He said, caressing strands of my hair, as my eyes started to close as they filled with tears.

"What if it's not okay Ethan? What if everything's not okay?" I asked, crying. I was so scared what would start if this day stopped.

"It will be. I promise,"

The light was rushing out of my eyes, and I was quickly resigning myself.

"What was on the flashdrive you had me steal?"

"You didn't steal it. That was my old office Dr. Mooney was moving into. The flashdrive had pictures that I took of you, before we met, during fall orientation,"

I managed to laugh before I passed out.

You're looking my way.

I see it.

Why don't you just admit it?

Anything between us and its

crossing a line

but lets finish the race

together

I'll cross the line

With you, I'm free

In any way I could be

in every way, I could be

In my mind, we're three.

You, me, and everything in between.

Everything that lacks modesty.

Everything I hadn't thought of.

Ideas glowing in the dark that

I can't stop. I'll be honest.

I'd risk us.

Why won't you? Don't you want me?

Yeah, you do. In your gaze, I can read

between the lines, in them I...

I see who you are. In the hall.

From the back of class

You're watching me. Don't look away when

I lock eyes on your smile

when you're looking at my laugh

that's when I know

You can't hide from me.

I wish you would. I wish you could.

Then maybe this could stop.

Then maybe would be a lot harder, but

Love isn't easy.

I want to confess.

I'm wishing, and I'm sure I'll be damned.

But not after this. It's so good.

How could it be bad?

I'm sorry, its

na·ive·té

Educate me. Then I'll stop

thinking

wishfully.

In this song, I feel the lonliness echo off the curves of my body

floating through the air, I want this

part of me greys, I wish I was older

I mourn my uncharted territory

as I explore yours

I move and I release, a lovesick

sadness, staining my fingers

I wipe it away. I don't want to stain anything

I don't want people to know

in my truth, I see the hue of blue

but you don't

no one does

my hips on yours

I can't help but wish for

something else

something more

what is it that people have?

our relationships an illusion

to me, in a brighter light

it seems so real

but it's always in the dark

in every breath, I sigh

will you love me?

Oh please, someone try to see

that fragile line

between you and me, I can

easily breakable

wanting to break

can you find me?

I'm here. I wish I didn't want this.

But I do, and I feel you twirl

my hair through your fingers

hand on my cheek, its

so real

you find my end

but I'm still looking for it

isn't that funny? How does the author not pen

the end of the story? I just

I don' know. I just feel. and I reach our

I reach through that empty space, for

the dream. I know. I still want something,

Of my own.

only in the small intervals of wanting

I feel you come

Get closer.

I wish you were closer...

I wish you were real

I wish someone was mine.

A curious notion sets itself, quickly infecting my mind.

In every quarter. On every surface.

Stop, stop this dopamine flow. Too much of a good thing isn't good at all.

From one light touch the chaos unravels itself quickly, stirring hidden thoughts that I try to refrain from. I can't contain them. They're everywhere.

Emotions boiling over, rising to the surface, burning my cheeks.

Embarrasing.

It's a whisper, hardly in the blood, hovering. Waiting, its grip distresses me.

Cardiac arrest a breath away, self-control is paramount. But I'm not good at that.

At least, not right now.

I breath in, releasing a tremor. My body's afflicted.

I think, I'm undone.

A merciless plague runs rampant through my thoughts, the fault of my affections.

It's hard to hear myself. Formerly strong, now weak and slightly insane.

This isn't me. I'm possesed.

God exercise these demons out of me.

They're clawing away at my conscious sanity, tearing pieces of my peace away.

Everyday. When I see him.

My heart murmurs so loudly, but I heart my secrets.

It's ringing in my hearts.

My hearts throbbing.

I can't help myself.

My mind was free.

But now I'm a minor character in this tragedy.

Someone's gonna write me off this show, 'cause I'm long gone already.

And I'm hoping, and I'm wistfully stealing a glance.

Just look my way.

See me in the crowd. See me looking at you.

Ruin me...and...

I know we'll never happen. I see that. The truth isn't blind to me.

But I can't stop what you started.

So I'll sit back in my desk chair, and

I'll try to smother the fire that's ablaze in my mind.

Kindling my desires, lighting up my dreams.

I'll keep dreaming.

My state is volatile. Pressurized. Contained in a vial. The whisper of release lies at the bottom underneath my fingertips. Ready to blow. Through the walls, the words come easily. They travel only a short distance. But they get to me. They prattle and moan.  

My name is in the air somewhere. From the calmest shores, from my quiet, comes a typhoon of disruption. It's loud and abhorrent, soaking through floor. No matter where I step I'm in it, hearing it. But superficiality is wasted on a poet. Damaging to the human ear though it may be, they harp on. The drone of the words seems infinite. Will I be stuck in it forever? Lying on the floor, my lungs search for clean air, for space to expand. For mercy, for peace. A rarity in this cell. No where to go but the window. But I"m too high up. Entrapment leaves a hollow feeling of unpleasantry. This slow engagement of the mind begins to fell more torturous. Mostly claustrophobic, with a smudge of fear. But only just. This sea can be easily sailed once I escape the port. With my bag, I slip out onto the docks, bypassing two roommates at once. With shoes fastened, the sails are lowered. Through the doorway lies freedom. A temporary fix, but in my dreams the waters expand further than human comprehension will allow. As far as it can go. To the edge of understanding, but a hair away from madness. That's far enough for me, so that's where I'll go.

All aboard, here we depart. 

Through the roses, I emerge. 

Still budding, a wasted dream. Still floating. 

Vines hug the garden wall, reaching for heaven. 

But we're way below.  

I surrender. Time doesn't stop. Nothing does.    

Past the dark, at the end of the track.  

The infinite's a stare at my back. 

My shoulders tense. 

In each thought, my fingers reach for words.

Where they end, I begin. 

We breathe it in. Say something back. 

Pretty speech, I kindle the flames. 

They warm my cheeks. But it burns out. 

I circle back. 

Cast away, passing vessels give me hope. 

Or they doom me here. 

I can never tell which. 

Our conversations setting, becoming a memory.

Fine thoughts into sea foam, you set sail.

The sun's gone, do I let you leave?

Do I want you to stay?

Sentiments for the wise. Not for me. 

Last ditch effort. I shoot off a flare. 

You laugh at my joke.

I smile.

Embers light up the night. 

I tried to sit as inconspicuously as possible. I knew no one was paying attention to me but it somehow felt like everyone was. Self-awareness flashed in my gaze about the room. Wielding a trench coat from the pouring rain outside and a blue baseball cap, my precautions at concealment seemed to defy the possibility presented by the room itself. But then the clock struck 7pm and a rush of travelers flooded in around the kiosks and empty benches were filled with young couples, families, and old people. The past, present, and future made me feel surrounded and out of place as I sat at a small table with a straightened newspaper in front of me. I couldn't stop chiding myself as to how ridiculous this was. It played over and over in my mind and every instinct I had told me to leave. Ridiculous didn't seem an adequate enough word to describe sitting in a train station for four hours incognito in order to catch a glimpse of a person who I hadn't seen in six years who definitely didn't want to see me.

That I was certain of. The nature of the situation wasn't the most discerning part. I was more worried about getting caught-

"Excuse me,"

I looked up. A super blond guy sat down across from me, lighting a cigarette and ignoring my protests for him to leave the table. 

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He puffed out a cloud of smoke, almost into my face.

"What, you waiting for someone?" His tone was offensive, filled with complete disregard for humanity at large. But majority of his personality seemed to be.

I completely ignored the question.

"Could you go somewhere else? Your stupid hair is blinding me, "I said, trying to see around him. His blond hair was distracting, which at this moment was an infuriating notion. There was a long pause where he inspected his cigarette, rubbing his knuckle, completely uninvested in the moment.

"Oh, I see. You're attracted to me," He said, completely unfazed.

Before I could respond, an official came over to assure Blonde that smoking was not allowed in the station. He argued for a minute then decidedly put out his cigarette. I took this opportunity to shift to the table to my left, facing the large clock far, far, away from me. I felt really small around so many people. It's like the more I tried not to be noticed the more visible I seemed to get.

"Okay, back to the subject-"

"Do I know you?" I asked. Something about his eyes seemed really familiar.

"No, not really," He said, pocketing his cigarettes.

"What do you mean, not really,"

"You dropped this on your way out earlier," He said, tossing me my house keys.

I looked up, astonished.

"Oh my god, are you stalk-"

"No, idiot. We're neighbors. I live across from you, on the second floor"

I took this in for a minute.

"But, you're still not stalking-"

"No, no. Obviously not." I was glad to hear it, but the inflection in his voice irritated me. I had unconsciously lowered the newspaper.

"Are you hiding from someone?" He asked, glimpsing around as if he wanted to wave them down.

"No, not exactly. I just don't want the person I'm going to see to see me,"

"What?" He said, perplexed.

"Look...what are you doing here anyway?" I asked, redirecting the conversation.

He had been leaning forwards but now he eased back in the chair.

"I was saying goodbye to someone," He said simply, lighting a cigarette.

I felt suddenly sympathetic.

"Don't look at me like that," He said.

"Like what?"

"Like you can see my pain. It's unnerving," He was looking away, and I again felt very self-conscious like the world was staring at me. I looked past him at the clock. It was already half-past seven.

All the exhaustion of the day suddenly dawned on me, and I laid my head down on my crinkled newspaper, shutting my eyes for a second.

"Hey, he's here,"

I shot my head up, fully alert, blinking away any traces of fatigue.

"Wha....what time is it?" I said, concerned.

"It half-past eight," He was still sitting at the table next to me. I rubbed my head, trying to take in the present. That's when I realized-

"You're still here?"

He shrugged, sipping coffee out of a styrofoam cup, not looking at me. Before I could process another thought flashed through my mind.

"Wait half-past eight?" I sat up straight, looking around to see the station mostly empty.

My breathing quickened. Before I even knew what I was doing I was leaning my face into my hands, crying. It was a shameful display of weakness. I felt quite disillusioned with myself. I could hear myself and I really wanted it to stop.

I felt him sitting across from me.

"Here,"

I looked up slightly, then sat up straight when I saw he was handing me a pack of tissues. He still wasn't looking at me, as if letting me have the moment alone. I could hear the sympathy in his voice, which was surprising.

"So you were waiting for a guy. Did he stand you up?"

I carefully blotted my eyes. He made it sound like it would be impossible to imagine me with someone. I didn't say anything for a while.

"I missed him. He was here and now he's gone," I said, leaning back, staring at the crumpled tissue in my hands.

"I don't even know why I came. I mean, what am I doing here? I must be a sadist,"

He actually looked surprised.

"Could you take like five seconds and explain whatever madness you live in to an actual human being?" He said, looking very amused. I frowned. I didn't want to explain, but it didn't seem matter anymore.

"I was...I was trying to catch a glimpse of my dad," I said, hating that I was admitting this. The gleam in his eye with a smile that I hadn't seen before quickly shifted to a serious attention. I was hoping he'd interrupt so I wouldn't have to say more. But he was waiting.

"It's really complicated. Anyway I hadn't seen him since my sixteenth birthday. He, didn't want to see me anymore. But I kept tabs on him. I didn't stalk him or anything. I would just check in every year, to see where he was. He just got married. She's already has kids. I knew he was working at this office building and I found out today he's moving to her place. His car broke down recently so I knew he was going to take the bus. But I didn't know what time..." I trailed off, when I noticed the second coffee cup placed across from me. I smiled slightly, feeling embarrassed. I kept waiting to hear or see the judgement in his gaze or in his tone.

"I really don't...I just thought, if I could see him from a distance. I thought if he saw me he might feel the love and feelings of all those years ago. Like they'd come flooding back to us and all the damage would be fixed,"

I drank some coffee, letting my words echo in the silence of the space. Specters floated by in the distance, passengers missing their trains or leaving the station altogether.

"I wanted to see, the person that I remember. Before everything. Before all the pain and bitterness seeped in. When he loved me...I wanted to see that in his eyes. I wanted him to look at me the way he used to. I miss it."

The tears were welling in my eyes again, and the sadness clouded my judgement.

"Do you know what that feels like?"

He looked up, out of a thought, and didn't look away when he replied.

"...Yeah. I know what that feels like." It was then that I noticed the wedding band on his ring finger. He followed my gaze and replied naturally.

"We were married for three years. The divorce was finalized two weeks ago. She's moving to Los Angeles for a journalist assignment, with the kids. They took a train earlier today. I saw them off. But then I couldn't seem to leave once they did," He ran a hand through his hair, his voice suddenly making him look a lot older than he actually was.

I shook my head, frustrated.

"I never knew what I should have done right. He never looked for me, never called. He just left me. He left me. I guess that kinda pain never goes away,"

His out-stretched hand held another gift. Vodka.

"No, maybe it doesn't," He said.

I took a swing from it. The vodka worked immediately.

"Wow, did you finish that?"

"Yes!" I said, stretching the word out in my mouth, standing up.

"Where are you going?"

"Screw this I'm going to find him. I'm getting on the train,"

I stumbled forward, feeling him steady me.

"The last train left already,"

I pushed on his chest to steady myself, and in my peripheral I saw him. He was outside the glass double doors. The lights in the building hid me in the shadows but he was perfectly illuminated, sporting a beard I'd never seen and a trench coat of his own. The rain had stopped, and he was frustratedly yelling at someone on the phone about missing his train.

"Are you okay?"

I couldn't stop trembling. I was hyperventilating. The moment felt so surreal, like I was dreaming. Before I could do anything, he quickly got into a yellow cab and disappeared.

"Claire,"

I leaned to my right and threw up.

"Okay, let's go,"

Even amid my protests he guided me by the arm to the front entrance, then to his car.

"Hey, wait, you don't know where I live," I stated.

He sighed an exasperated sigh.

In the moonlight, his features did appear attractive. Had I really not noticed him all that much before? Or had I been avoiding him for that very reason?

"Open the window. Sometimes the fresh air helps," He said, a cigarette in hand.

I rolled down the window and let my hair down. We hit various stop lights, not saying anything. The silence and the weather were at a standstill, somewhere in the middle. I felt like I was waking up in the middle of a dream. The moon was bright, and as we drove over a large stretch of bridge through a layer of fog, I couldn't help but feel like I was underwater, in the depths of the river Styx. I was traveling out of one world into another.

"What's your name?" I said.

He looked like he was trying not to roll his eyes.

"Chris,"

"I'm sorry. I'll be sure to remember that in the future,"

With the wind in my hair, I looked out and breathed in deep the smell of the water. I could see the waves crash past the fog in the distance. Moonlight shimmered as the sea foam lingering, like the hesitation of outstretched fingers reaching aimlessly for a shore that's too far away. Trying to get back.

I pulled away from the window and leaned back in the car, reclaimed by the darkness.

"Do you think people with pain can be happy again?"

I looked over, surprised and unprepared to answer.

"...Yes, I think so. Don't you?"

He looked over at me for second. I almost blushed.

"I don't know."He said, after a minute, his face serious.

"Life brings pain. Pure inhibition brings pleasure, and sooner or later everybody dies. Maybe happiness is somewhere in between,"

He laughed, surprising me again.

"Or maybe it's not,"

The light-heartedness in his voice made me smile as we finally returned to the road, leaving the sea behind.  

I heard something behind me. My breathing felt completely involuntary, blood rushing to my cheeks as the adrenaline made the room feel swelteringly hot. My neck was itching, tingling with the heat.The easiest thing in the world felt suddenly so complicated.

"Belle!"

I stumbled back into self-awareness, looking up at David's face. 

"What?" I said out loud, my voice sounding foreign to me.

"Why are you...why did you stop just then?"

A pipet clenched in my right hand hovered over the rim of the test tube. I was trying to keep it steady. My thumb was poised over the trigger, ready to inject the contents of the pipet into the tube.  

"I didn't...I mean, what do you mean?" I said, wiping some sweat off my forehead carefully with my forearm. 

I saw him really look at me, sending shivers down my spine. 

"What are you doing? We don't have time for this. Do it."

The urgency in his voice rang out in through the empty aisles and deserted lab benches. Hell, there were only a few lights on. It must have been around one in the morning. 

He took an exasperated breath, adjusting his lab coat.

"What is it? What's the matter?" He almost sounded concerned.

"I just don't know if-" I stopped suddenly. I honestly didn't know how to finish the sentence.  

"You don't know if, what? If we should save thousands of lives-what kind of question is that?!" He lashed out angrily at a tray of test tubes. I didn't flinch as they shattered on the floor. 

"That's not-"

"Yes it is! This could save, everyone. Everyone. How can you hesitate in a moment like this-"

"Why shouldn't I!" I answered back angrily, meeting his gaze. I stood up, away from my stool, leaving the pipet on the table. He seemed appalled.

"This is completely insane. You know what? Get out of my way." He brusquely pushed me aside. Off balance, I toppled over a stool, knocking over a mountain of glassware. I was on the floor but I didn't get up as I watched him scan through my notes, looking for the protocol I had mentioned before we'd come into the lab. 

"Where is it?" He demanded. I said nothing. 

He went back over to my desk. I could see a flurry of papers as he looked through everything. He stomped back out to walk over and grab me by both sides of my lab coat's collar and hoisting me up against the bench. 

"Where is it Belle! Are you telling me you didn't write any of this down? A protocol like that would be too complicated to perform from memory,"

I was almost afraid to tell him. 

"I did memorize it. I tested the procedure out yesterday,"

The shock seemed too much. He let go of my lab coat, stepping back and away from me. That seemed to register more than him grabbing my lab coat, and I suddenly felt doubtful.

"You knew? You've been sitting on this for 24 hours and you chose today to tell me about it?! Why?" He said, perplexed. He leaned back on the bench across from me. somehow exhausted.

"I had to think about it. The consequences of this could extend to everyone-"

"I know that! There are a lot of lives at stake-"

"They won't be able to feel," I said finally, letting go of the secret that I'd been keeping.

He sat down on one of the bar stools, removing his latex gloves and running a hand through his blonde hair. 

"What do you mean, like they won't feel pain?"

"No. I mean they won't be able to feel emotions at all,"

"What," He said in disbelief. "That's impossible. These neurotransmitters aren't-"

"I don't know how it works David, I really don't, I-"

I stood up, turning my back to him, frustration ringing in my own ears.

"I may have underestimated my own abilities. This drug, it keeps the neurotransmitters intact. They continue to degrade so all normal functioning in the brain remains but...I don't know, I don't know what's causing this-"

"Belle, this is just speculation. How could you possibly know what the side effects..."

I looked back at him, the answer clearly on my face. Then he really looked concerned.

"Oh my god. Who did you give it to?"

"My father," I said, emotion making my voice break.

"Are you completely insane? Is he alive?" He asked incredulously, standing beside me. 

"He is. He's alive." I said. 

"Well, this is good, it works-"

"Is it good David?" I asked.

"I don't think you understand what I'm saying. He can't feel, anything. He can't cry, he can't feel anger. Or fear. Or love. Nothing registers on an emotional level. Nothing,"

"What about the tumors themselves?"

"All the cells were intact. It's like they've been rejuvenated. I only wanted to heal the damaged cells but it worked better than I thought it would. But I don't think you're hearing what I'm saying-"

"This is brilliant" He said, completely occupied by this revelation, sounding in awe. 

Then he turned to me. 

"You're brilliant,"

Before I knew what was happening, he was kissing me. I broke it off, stumbling back, completely confused. He fixed his lab coat, looking like he was trying to register what had just happened. The air felt overtaken by a range of emotions by both parties. It seemed impossible to speak through it.

"I'm sorry. I never thought you might..." His face was flushed. My mind was racing as I waited for him to finish the sentence. A minute turned into a long silence where it looked like he wouldn't. I could hear him breathing as I struggled to breath as well. I looked over at all the broken glass on the floor.

"Listen to me David. If we do this, there's no way to fix it. This is permanent. I don't, I don't know how to fix it. I don't know what's causing it. The damage could be irreparable."

"You're bleeding,"

Startled, I looked to where his gaze was hovering. When I fell before, my shin had been grazed by all the glass. It was bleeding badly. I hadn't felt the pain until now. He offered me a chair, with a first aid kit in hand. 

In the silence, we contemplated what to do as he put gauze on the cut.

"What did you mean earlier, when you said 'Why shouldn't I hesitate'."

I was looking away, trying not to see the bright red out of my peripheral vision.

"I just meant the gravity of the decision, seemed like a lot of responsibility,"

He shook his head. 

"I don't think that's what you meant at all. I think you meant that you weren't sure if humanity was worth saving,"

I cried out in pain as he applied a second dressing. 

It was really hurting now. 

"That sounds like the description of an...irredeemable person," I said, feeling the depth of my words. I didn't want to see his face, expecting hate or complete disdain or both. 

But when I looked up, I saw the opposite.

"Maybe that person's just human like the rest of us," He said simply.

"That person's definitely someone that, I would have faith in, because they see all of what we are and they accept it. Good and bad. Besides, I don't know if any of us are completely redeemable. Do you?"

I couldn't look away, and I couldn't answer back. He didn't seem to mind. 

"David! Belle!" We looked over to our left and down the hall we could see Dr. Loudon emerge, heading towards us from a distance carrying a couple of notebooks.

"Looks like he's been working on something too." David said. 

"What do we do now?" I asked. 

"That depends. Do you see reason for us to continue?"

I tried not to overthink the question, wincing as I shifted my injured shin.

"Life's such a pain" I said, finally.

We stood up.