RED PARALLEL

Chapter 28: Psychotic Amnesia

(Owen)

Damn, the b-soda was like a waterfall and Traviz was just watching it. What the hell. What the hell. Owen's brain imploded and he jumped at that neck, squeezed it, and kicked the body against the b-soda.

"THE HELL YOU'RE THINK YOU'RE DOING, IMBECILE?"

Traviz took an impulse to get up and Owen pressed his foot against his chest.

"You stay down there, dickass."

Owen pushed Traviz's face against the floor, the shoe stamping a mark on his cheek.

"SUCK ALL THIS FUCKING SHIT, STUPID! I TOLD YOU TO-"

Traviz tried to get up again and Owen burst out kicking him from shoulders to thighs.

"Go to hell. Die. You piece of shit. SAY SOMETHING!"

Traviz was just trying to protect his face, without reacting or yelling. Owen grabbed him by the hair and pushed him against the wall, hitting him hard so he could hear the loudest thud possible. Yet Traviz stood quiet, heads down and eyes shut in a frown. He was resisting as if holding himself the best he could. "My dad beats me every time. I know exactly where he hits me when he has beer. Like, here. And like, when it's whisky, he does the punches. I don't get it," Traviz had said in the first week they had met each other. "How's the feeling?" "Dunno, guess I just wish he could kill me freal. He tries every time, but he doesn't make it, 'cause I'm damn strong, you know.". Owen kept shooting punches and kicks, and his own fist was starting to pulse and ache when Traviz slightly opened his eye and his face of agony was real. The last shot had gone to the middle of his stomach.

That face. That expression was the same Traviz used to make whenever he accidentally recalled a bad memory. Traviz would frown and twist his mouth. And he'd lower his head and sometimes even crouch on the floor. His head was already lowered and he didn't crouch but collapsed onto the carpet, the pain burning on his face.

Owen's blood ran suddenly cold over the inner fire. He had seen that before. Traviz on the ground. Traviz with that face. Shrinking like that. He's... Owen had done that before. That was not...

Wait, wait, wait...

And the last thing proved it was not the first time, neither the second, nor the third. Traviz opened one of his eyes, and that stare. Brown crooked with a shrunk eyebrow and he-

Why, why you're looking at me like that?

Owen had punched Traviz on the street, after running from the guards. Dived the fingers behind his neck. He had kicked his legs until he fell down the subway stairs. He had made him trip over the railway and hit his forehead on the steel. He had his lungs pressed under his foot for five long minutes, under the water. He had him... "Can I say something, you psycho? I ALMOST DIED THERE! YO, FUCK! Stop taking those crazy sticks..." He had him almost hit by a car. He had him running from a pit bull. He had him falling from the rooftop of a building. "Damn, I guess I'm a motherfucker superhero, I'm never dying, asshole." He had... "You think my bones are made of rubber?" Then he had...

Owen watched Traviz closing his eyes and shrinking his body, without a word. Fight was over.

He's not dying, right? He's not...

Traviz wasn't dead. He was done.

Owen marched to his bedroom, head pumping with memories.

"Fuck your sorry, just stay away from me... Gimme the ice, asshole."

"Psycho... Weirdo... Alien bitch..."

"That ain't fair, 'cause you don't remember when I punch back. Damn, I'm good. Ain't fair you don't remember it."

"Sure you ain't gonna kill me?

"You're just like my dad. But my dad is my dad all the time. You're just my dad, like, once in a week, thank God."

"Stop with the sorry, you look ridiculous."

"I said, I'm fine."

"I hate those things you smoke. They make you go crazy. And weird. Look at your eye, bro. It's red. Reeeeed."

"Stop trying to kill me, I'm getting tired."

He had lost control, again. He had lost his memory, and he... He had no idea the reason for all the fights. Were they really out of nothing? Well, Traviz dropped the b-soda on the floor...

Seriously? A b-soda? Shit... I must get rid of it... I must...

He stared at the open boxes. They had cost so much, and if it wasn't for it... Damn, he had some crazy dreams... Traviz would never do that, but really... That would be great, that would be... Only in dreams, because in reality Traviz was lying on the floor, not on his bed-

The chest twinged and he sprinted toward the living room.

Troy, are you...

Traviz was lying on the ground, on the very same spot he had collapsed, and...

And playing with the b-soda bottle?

Traviz was rolling it in his hands, staring blankly at the plastic.

What the hell is he still doing there? Does that mean he can't move?

No, it didn't. Traviz twitched his knee. Okay, he didn't change his flat position, but he could move, somehow. Did it hurt? The agony in his face was gone, he was just... Rolling the bottle. Was he remembering all the times he had almost died? Traviz yawned and rubbed his eyes. How could he be so cute after- He was back to rolling the empty plastic. Now that Owen noticed, Traviz's sweater was half dirty with the drink. He was lying right above the wet carpet. He didn't seem to care much. He didn't care at all. He was rolling the bottle. And-

Traviz was speaking something. Talking to himself in mute. Mechanically. Then, he paused the rolling and slightly raised the bottle. He would swing it in short moves. Was he singing? The moves were so repetitive-

He's rapping.

Traviz rolled to the right and fell asleep.