I’d already been through hell once. I walked it with a thousand others. Now I’m alone. I feel like an empty box- filled with poisonous gas. Slipping. How much sadness can a person take, physically? How much betrayal, anger, and suffering? There were so, so many good people on Earth that could’ve taken his place. So many people who would’ve killed themselves so that their children could live, or get the chance to. But, no, my selfish father killed him self because he couldn’t deal with what every single goddamn person is dealing with on this ship. He took the easy way out.
I wonder if it would’ve just been easier to have remained on Earth, where it would all be over now. Let some other, more deserving person take my place. I wouldn’t have to see anyone now.
I hate their ugly, miserable faces. There’s no point being sad for the idiot that took his own life. So much for ‘no more criminals on this ship’. He did it to himself but the effect is the same. They should hate him but they don’t. I do. They’re here making excuses and trying to see the good of this. He just had so much stress, it must’ve driven him crazy! It was probably just a moment of insanity! Sleep deprivation?! Was he drunk?! It’s going to be okay Ridge, we all feel your pain! Speak to me, Ridge! I’m trying to help you!
But they don’t feel my pain. Their loved ones were killed by accident. He never loved any of us anyway. He gave into this feeling of hell while the rest of us were still moving forward, and just as it was getting better, he destroyed it. For everyone. Especially me. Toby Waters is not my father. He’s dirt on the homeless man’s shoe. He’s shit in the murderer’s sear. He’s nothing.
What’s the point of all this anyway? What’s life supposed to be? What do we get for all this suffering, all this pain? Why us, and why me? I’m sick of trying to be ‘happy’ again. Trying to forget all the bad stuff that happened. All I want to do is sit in a dark room and rot. I want to starve and cut my skin and watch my skin and watch myself bleed. I want to die. But then I’d be just like him.
I see my mother and her ugly dead eyes and the way she shakes when she moves and the way she never sleeps and her empty words to us in a desperate attempt to help. Be strong and forget and try to be happy and don’t think about it and he was a good man and it took its toll on all of us and sit and cry and sit and cry and… and… and…
I see Allie and her sad, sad smiles and the way she tries to help my mother when I can’t. I won’t. I used to be ashamed of the fact that she’s stronger than me but now I don’t care.
I see Allie’s ugly little boyfriend and the way he hugs her and looks at me with those sad eyes and sometimes pats me on the shoulder or asks me a question I ignore. I want him to go away but he’s just trying to help which is more than I’m doing.
I see Rory and I hate her for being the strong daughter she is. Her dad died and she’s perfectly happy. In fact, both her parents died and she’s happy. Why isn’t she sad like me? Is there something wrong with me, or what’s so good about her?! She’s got friends and an ugly little boyfriend, too! Also her parents didn’t kill themselves. That probably helps.
He was never close to his parents, either. I only met my grandparents a couple times. My grandfather was a retired military general, or something like that, and they didn’t get along. They had a rough past but I don’t know what happened because he never talked about it. My grandparents definitely were invited to come on the ship, but maybe they thought they were ‘too important’ for this first test flight. Or maybe just because my family was invited. I guess it doesn’t matter now.
I’m sitting in my little room surrounded by my meaningless possessions and I just want to get away. It’s been nearly a month since his death, but it doesn’t feel like it. I’ve been working hard on my studies, reading and rereading the material and memorizing and understanding everything. Not that I want to impress anybody or myself it’s just a good distraction. I hear Allie laughing a little too loudly in the center room about a joke told by Fane. She tries so hard. I don’t see the point anymore.
Sick of doing nothing, I decide to go somewhere. Anywhere. I know I need to talk to somebody. No one here though. As I enter the center room, I see Allie, Fane, Tristen, and Rory all sitting around the room together. It’s kind of awkward as they say hi to me, without making eye contact. They used to invite me out with them all the time, but they stopped when they realized it was kind of hopeless. I look at Allie in a sort of wonder. How is it so easy for her to laugh, or even pretend to? Out of all of us, she should be the most scarred from this experience. She’s the one who found the body!
She returns the look with an emotion I don’t try to pick out but it seems less friendly than the last time I cared to pay attention. I hadn’t spoken a word to her for, well, who knows how long? I once though that Fane was her new twin, a replacement for me. It was a funny thought.
I leave without saying hello and close the door quietly. I wonder where to go? Somewhere I haven’t been yet. People I haven’t seen yet (that’d be a miracle). I walk toward the back of the ship (my dad’s old palace) and turn left, into storage of some kind. The red carpet stops here and the walk is gray and lonely. I don’t know where this goes. A big gray door with a sign labeled ‘livestock’ is at the end. The door was locked, but I’d stolen my dad’s old key and was able to enter.
A disgusting smell wafted out into the hallway and I contemplated leaving but continued inside nonetheless. In the city animals like these were only found on plates, and the smell was a new one to me. There are lots of different animals, some for eating and some maybe just for the preservation of the species. There aren’t hundreds of meat animals because most of what we eat is artificial, and only a small amount of meat is needed for that.
I decide I don’t want to be around the smell anymore and turn around when I see her. I have a thought. Out of anybody, anybody at all, she is the perfect one to talk to. Shard. Probably the only one on this entire ship that hasn’t said anything to me about the death of my father. No apologies or stupid attempts to make me feel better. Perfect. I don’t know what I wanted. Just to say something. Just to be in the company of another human being.
She was sitting on a box and I watched her for a moment before walking over. Her eyes grew slightly larger as she noticed me, and looked somewhat apprehensive. It was an odd look for her as I’d only ever seen her hostile or annoyed. She must have thought I was there to tell her to leave a restricted place and realized I wasn‘t, or maybe that I looked so miserable and not angry, but more of a curious look took over.
“Hi,” I said once I was about five feet away. She didn’t say anything for a moment.
“What do you want?”
I tried to think of something clever to say but couldn’t. I decided to say the truth.
“I just need someone to talk to.”
“Talk to somebody else,“ she said as she hopped off the box and began to walk away from me.
“Wait!”
I ran after her, and stopped in front of her. She sort of winced as I grabbed her lower arm, and it was odd for me too because I’d never been one for contact, especially me doing the touching, but I was so desperate to talk to somebody I didn’t partially despise I didn’t know what to do.
“Please. I just really, really, need your help.”
