Work Text:
A Recalled Memory From Patton S.
I’m fine. I am fine. I am okay. This is fine, this is all fine. I wiped the tears away with the rough blanket wrapped around me. A yellow long-since faded and made from wool. It felt like it was scraping my skin, but that was fine. It was a gift from a dear friend on a birthday years ago. He had long since left me for his other friends, but that’s fine. It’s okay to find new people, I wasn’t much good for him anyway. He was a liar too, and I don’t like liars.
The hiccups were violent, but that was fine. They would stop eventually. I desperately needed some water, but I’d wait until everyone goes to sleep. I wouldn’t want to bother them. They need their sleep, and that’s fine. It’s okay to retire early for the night, I would clean up the kitchen for them anyway.
My fingers wouldn’t stop moving. Shaking, dancing, gripping, flipping, pulling- stop. My best friend told me I shouldn’t fidget much. It was okay, but keeping still was better. I should try to collect myself, then I could be fine. Not that I wasn’t fine. I was. It’s just better to keep still and think of nothing. That was okay to do.
My head was spinning and my mind was running, trying to catch up. That was fine, I was smart enough to keep all my thoughts in. My other friend told me so, he said I was smart. I suspected he was lying, but that was fine, he wanted me to feel better. He’s so nice, but I don’t like liars.
My shoulders ached. I felt like I was holding something severely heavy, or maybe pulling it back. I know stress builds up in the shoulders, but I wasn’t stressed. I was fine! I told myself I was fine, and I don’t lie. If I can’t lie, then I must be fine. Logan would be so proud of me, using logic to solve the situation. Logic solves everything, it seems. Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but it should be fine. He’s always right.
Another friend, a third friend if you don’t count the one who left, told me it was okay to express yourself. But I knew he was hiding what he needed to express. A perfect façade that came in the shape of a smile fitted to his face. He told me to express myself like a hypocrite and a liar. But I was comfortable holding everything close, it was okay to do. It wasn’t that I was hiding it, I just didn’t want to bother everyone with my problems. They have their own problems and that’s fine.
I gasped for air, I was forgetting to breathe. I held myself so intensely that it felt I would shatter from the pressure. I kept on gasping, again and again. I was hyperventilating. Time was short. It was happening. It was happening and that was just a fact, a fact I couldn’t exactly comprehend, just observe. I needed help, but I didn’t want to bother anyone. They were busy, at their jobs or enjoying life somewhere else.
I was alone, and that was okay. This had happened before. Eventually, the overwhelming feelings subsided and I carried on with a smile on my face. But I was alone. No one would help and that was fine. My gasping slowed and in its place came tears and a slow whine ebbing out of my lungs. A hiccup and it was gone. Just silent tears. I was alone. A knock on the door.
“Patton? Have you gone to sleep yet?” Logan was at my door. I frantically untangled myself from the yellow blanket and hid it in the crack between my bed and the wall, wiping the tears from my face as I did so. My voice was broken but I spoke up anyway.
“Not yet. Goodnight.” There was a pause, for me and for him. I could feel him thinking. He was right behind that door, thinking about me in concern.
“May I come in?” There was the question. It was said in a calm manner, slow and careful. I did not want him to come in.
“You may.”