The Mechanics of Us

Chapter 30

On the way back, the mechanic and I didn't exchange a single word. Not like I would be able to, though. My mind is clouded, and things that were once black and white were now shades of grey. The mechanic drops me off on the side of the curb and offers to walk me in, but I politely deny her offer. Again, I just needed some space. When I get up to my apartment, I make my way to the door and notice the warm dim kitchen glow under the door, so the surgeon must still be here. I enter, turn to the right quickly, and do not say a word to them. I am not in the mood to talk to them or anyone.

My pants pocket buzzes; the mechanic has sent me a text.

The Mechanic: How's my girl?

Me: It could be better, but I'll be okay.

The Mechanic: I'm all ears if you want to talk

Me: I know, thank you.

I chuck my phone on the bed along with the journal and let out an exasperated sigh. My head feels like a thousand bees are swarming inside of it. There are three raps on the door. I glance at my clock, 7:30 PM, just like clockwork.

I shake my head, "Not tonight."

Three raps again.

I cover my ears, "Not tonight!" I bark back.

The doorknob jiggles-"Bete's, please talk, I' m-I'm worried about you.."

I don't know why, but that sends me over the edge. I stomp over to the door and fling it open my grey crescent eyes pierce theirs, and all I want to do is punch them in the face.

"Why?"

"Pardon?" the surgeon seems flabbergasted, and their eyebrows arch upward in shock.

"Why talk now? Why now when you have watched me suffer and you never once spoke up," my blood begins to boil over, and it's swelling in my chest.

"You have watched me and done nothing. You promised to protect me, but you never once did!" I clench my fists; my nails dig into tender flesh.

"I couldn't-"

"You could have!" I snap.

"You could have done so much, but you left me. You are just like them" the sight of them repulses me, they were just like all the other humans. Arrogant, stuck up in their own lives, they were not like the mechanic or me. They saw me get hurt and never did a thing about it, just like the astrophysicist's colleagues. No one stood up for her, and no one has stood up for me.

"Do you know why that woman killed her partner?" my bottom lip quivers, and I can't tell if I am angry or sad or hurt or a combination of all three.

"I-uh.. no. I thought-"

"You thought! You assumed her story just like everyone else." I grab the tattered astrophysicist journal and shove it into the surgeon's chest. They stumble backward.

I begin to pace in my room, my hands rubbing the back of my neck furiously- "She was abused, alone, and went mad. People noticed but thought it was normal."

"I-I just accepted what was taught, I didn't know then, but now I do!" the surgeon takes a step towards me, and I take a step back.

"Bete's... please. I didn't know then, I just assumed-"

"Stop!" I cry, my body stiffens, and the tension in my chest twists and condenses into a tight ball.

"Everyone assumes everything about anyone. They assume that if society deems something correct then it is. They assume that hurting others is right if it's rational. They assume that they can trust anyone who bares any part of their soul with you" A tear falls and splatters on the wooden floor of my room. I am over tears, though. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hands and leer maliciously at the surgeon.

Through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, I allow the surgeon to see the hurt and pain that I have hidden from them for so long.

"You are no better than the rest," I croak.

"I know..." they say airily.

"You didn't do anything," I snipe.

"I know," they say back dully.

"You hurt me," I say, my heart heavy and eyes weary.

"I know." They match my posture, and I can tell they had emotions festering inside of them, they hold their ground, and in a somber utterance, they say, "I am sorry."

I am taken back at what they said. Out of all the options they had, they chose those three words. Out of hundreds and thousands of words available to them, ones that could encapsulate their anger, disappointment, frustration, hurt, and sorrow, they choose to say, "I am sorry."

"You're sorry?" I question in disbelief.

"I am sorry I did not speak up for you" they hold a vacant stare at the ground as they speak.

"I am sorry I hurt you, that was never my intention. I am sorry I wasn't there for you when I should have been. And I am sorry I wasn't the parent you wanted" when they finally make eye contact with me, I see just how shattered they are. Their eyes are bloodshot, their lip dripping red at one corner, a vein on their neck bulges, and they emit shame and fear.

"I'm trying now, though... I'm trying..." their hands move up and cover their face to shield my intense gaze from them.

"You are too late. That opportunity doesn't exist anymore" I grab the car keys from my nightstand and my phone from my bed. My shoulder knocks against the surgeon's chest as I push past them.

"Where are you going?" they cup my wrist, and I yank it back.

"Doesn't matter, not like you'd follow anyways" I look at them with disgust and discontent.

I wrench the door open and without any intentions or thought I carelessly and apathetically say, "You're fired" and let the door slam shut behind me. The hollow echo ricochets through the empty hallway, and I hear the surgeon let out a defeated scream. A twinge of panic ripples through me and dart out of the apartment building, making my way past the lobby then to my car parked out front.

I hop in, start the engine, and drive. I drive out to the lookout point, and when I get there, I turn off the car, get out, slam the door, and yell at the top of my lungs. All of the hurt, shame, fear, guilt, sadness, all of it releases itself from my chest and into the open air.

I catch my breath, my lungs spastically trying to grasp at air. I hunch overtaking in labored breathing and then lean back and arch my spine. The sky is beautiful tonight. It's a soft lavender with shades of midnight black. Then, of course, there are the stars that flicker like a candle flame, how they speckle the sky with their small yet impactful glow. Alone a star is nothing but a speck; it is a dust particle floating in the air. However, when there are millions of stars that line the sky, they turn into a sea of luminous fireflies. No longer a particle but rather a being of sorts.

They have given us life, given us potential, but alone they are nothing. Humans are not composed of a single star, but millions. I am named after the star Betelgeuse that is a part of something greater than itself. My star is connected to the others to form the constellation, Orion. A warrior who does not stand alone but relies on others to help them. The constellation is a part of a galaxy, and a galaxy is a part of a universe. Alone I might be a partial star, but with her, I am a universe.