Trust is a Funny Thing (possibly discontinued)

Introduction

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Trust is a Funny Thing

Questions whirled in my tired mind, my eyes concentrating on following my fingers as they picked at lint on my mattress. Although I was relieved we all made it out of that mess alive, my muscles ached with fatigue, my thoughts were far from the material world, and my chest was tense with fear. My heart was heavy with the weight of endless regret and beat slowly under the burden of my faults. For the moment, nothing existed except myself and everything wrong in the town. I dared not look away from my hands, afraid the fresh memory of destruction and lies would flood back into me, and I would not be able to cope with its full force. Instead, I carefully shifted my gaze to the girl next to me, hoping her always positive demeanor would ease my own.

I stared painfully at my sister as an agonizing lump formed in my throat. She sat cross-legged on her own bed, thoughtfully stroking her pig's ears, the rest of her body completely tense. She didn't have a smile on her face as I usually saw. She didn't have a frown or a pout, either. She was entirely expressionless in that moment, and it was then I knew it was impossible for me to reverse my mistakes. I fought to hold back the tears that wouldn't come, every part of my being too exhausted to physically cry. She cleared her throat and broke the silence throughout the room.

"Why are you staring?" she asked, her voice hoarse and no louder than a powerful whisper.

"I don't know," I answered the same, knowing an apology would be worthless and turning my head away from her. "I'm worried about you, I guess..."

"I'm alive, aren't I?"

"At this point, I'm not sure that's a good thing," I blurted out.

I met her eyes again, expecting tears or a look of shock. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly downward, but nothing else changed. She nodded in agreement after a second of hesitation and continued petting Waddles. My breath caught in the back of my throat and I felt my mouth go agape in surprise. My sister – the only person I could truly say I cared about – practically told me she wished she were dead.

"Dipper," she grew quieter. "Remember when you told me to trust no one?"

"I was wrong, okay, Mabel?!" I responded with an involuntary shout. "What do you expect from me? Even Gideon knows that I'm just a kid... I'm just a kid..."

The tears were threateningly close to pouring into the bottom of my eyelids, so I pinched the bridge of my nose and held in my breath, squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to contain all those emotions. There was no voices or breathing for quite a while between the both of us, until she decided to interrupt the sadistic tranquility once again.

"No, you were right," she said calmly. "I should trust no one. I shouldn't even trust myself, and I don't. If that machine really would have meant death for us all, the world would be over, because I'm too selfless."

"Tell me now, sis," I demanded sternly. "Tell me if you wish you were dead."

"I don't wish I were dead, I just wish I could be alive again."

Dear diary,

Is this what life is supposed to be? I feel like I've lost everything innocent and pure, including my brother. He's not the same as he used to be, and neither am I. Gruncle Stan definitely isn't the same man I knew at the beginning of the summer. Things are changing, and I think they're changing for the worse. Around every corner is another question, another doubt, another supernatural occurrence... Who should I trust? Who is real and who isn't? Why did we have to get ourselves caught up in this? I've heard from two people now that we're just kids, but I don't feel like "just a kid". I kind of feel like the fate of all of Gravity Falls and the sanity of Dipper is in my hands and everything revolves around our decisions. One mistake could mean the end of it all. We could drift apart, we could never see each other again, we could be forced to watch our childhood be ripped away from us, or we could die. If this is a part of growing up and getting mature or whatever, I don't want to be a part of it. I want to go back to the beginning of the summer and keep Dipper from ever finding his precious journal. I want to just be siblings playing in the yard and complaining about the heat and horrible hygiene of our uncle. I guess sometimes it's better to let things be than to go digging for answers and possible conspiracies. The only place that's gotten Dipper and I is here in our room, wondering about this secret and that, always being hurt by the truth in the end.

Signed,

Mabel Pines

Entry One:

Since these stupid journals have given me answers to problems before, maybe making my own will give me answers to myself. Ever since that night in the basement of the shack, nothing has been the same. I never imagined my whole life could be turned upside down within a matter of two days, but I was wrong. It seems like I'm always wrong anymore. I always misguide everyone and never go on gut instinct. I base every move and every thought on what those journals tell me to do. Most of the time, it just gets me into trouble, and Mabel is always the one who ends up rescuing me and cleaning up my mess. She lives solely off whatever her heart and gut tells her. She doesn't care about my dumb journals. If it weren't for me snooping around, I would've never found it, Bill would've never known, Stan – is he Stan? – would have never turned on that machine, and my sister and I would be oblivious to the chaos stirring in Gravity Falls. I fear now that I've gotten us both caught up in something we shouldn't be, we won't be able to just slip away from it. We'll always be sucked back in somehow, one day it'll prove to be too much for the two of us to handle, and that'll be the end of the Pines Twins. I wish I could lay the journals in some box, shove them under the floorboards or bury them, walk away, and return to normal life, but something tells me shaking out of the grip of the supernatural won't be so easy.

Written by Dipper Pines