Shoelaces

Profiles

Waves brush against my feet. The salty ocean water causes my body to tingle because of the cold. Sand is scattered across my legs and chest; some particles even found their home in my hair. The sun shines into my eyes, definitely giving me a sunburn. I sit right on the shoreline, my legs outstretched, one of my hands intertwined with Santi's. He tells a joke that I laugh at. We eat food and throw said food at each other, just for fun. We kiss and let the sun enjoy the show. Life is good until I wake up.

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I wake up in a cold sweat. My family is alive. Jazmine is alive. Santi is alive. And I'm dead. They were grieving for me while I was drinking iced coffee. They were trying not to cry when my favorite song came onto the radio while I was too scared to leave my room. And, I had not even remembered them until I saw them all in EarthVision yesterday. Is that my fault? Alex told me it wasn't. Alex told me most limbs forget about their significant others, and their best friends, and their family. Alex told me it was natural. And although I know Alex knows everything, I don't believe him. Because I should not have forgotten my family, or Jazmine, or Santi. Not even for a week.

After I first saw Santi on the EarthVision screen, I felt like I was dying again. Dying as I trembled on the couch. But I forced myself to keep watching. And it only got worse. More memories ramming into my brain. Reopening scars. I remembered everything watching the highlight reel of my life, and now I remember that I left them. I can see them, but they can never see me. They can never see me because I didn't look both ways before crossing a fucking street.

After the highlight reel was over, I could barely stand up. But I somehow found my way back to my room. I don't know how long I've been here now. Keeping track of time by yourself is hard. Maybe it's been a week? I can't tell. I could make a clock or a calendar appear out of thin air, but it doesn't matter. I can't make Santi, or Jazmine, or my family appear. I know. I tried. If it has been a week since I made my way back to my room, I've been in my bed for the most of it. I haven't called Alex. I've thought about it, my hand hovering over the little button. Having somebody to talk to might be nice. But what would I even say? What could I do? So, instead I've laid in my bed. I don't need to eat food, like Alex said, so why eat? I don't need to change my clothes or brush my teeth or entertain myself with musicals or study for a future that doesn't exist, so why do any of that? So, I lay in my bed. Sleeping when I can. The dreams are nice. The brief moment of not knowing where I am when I wake up is nice. Everything else is bad. But I deserve the bad, because I abandoned them. I abandoned them all.

That's when three knocks hit my door. "May I come in?" a familiar voice echoes into my room. I don't respond. I don't want him to see me like this. "Darrion?" My eyes are violently puffy and there is definitely snot all over my face. "Darrion, it's Alex. I know you are in there. And, I don't want to do this, but hosts are required to check in on their limbs once a month on limb time, so I will enter if you-"

A month. I've been in my bed for a month?

"Can you, um, can you please just give me like 20 minutes? Sorry, I just-"

"No worries, Darrion. Just yell out when you're ready."

I'm still laying in my bed. I guess I need to get out. But I feel as if a thousand tons of rocks are weighing me down, delicately placed down onto my body by the hands of death, herself. Come on, Darrion. I push my legs out of my bed with all the energy my body has and stand up. I feel like I might fall. But I don't. Good. I could use a shower. If that's a thing here. Let's see. When I snap my fingers, a bathroom will be attached to this room. One. Two. Three. Suddenly, a door appears next to my bed. I shower. It's nice. Sometimes nice things are nice. Good and nice. I finish, snapping myself on some clothing. I snap my room into place, adding the chair that Alex usually sits in. Not really having to do anything other than snap is nice. Although the bed is singing another siren song, I snap myself another chair to sit in, across from Alex's. And then, I'm yelling that he can come in. Alex steps through the door, wearing the same outfit he's been wearing since the first time I met him. He's holding two iced coffees in his hands.