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Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ #31: A Crutch and a Headache

                    ~ Chapter #31: A Crutch and a Headache ~

        He, Mr. Cardona, was unfortunately not as lucky as you, Aleksandr.

It seemed like those words were going to be the death of him. After he had heard the combination of letters sound and splice the deafening silence and building suspense in half and hit him harshly in the process, it felt like his heart shattered briskly in that moment as his body began trembling as if he were suddenly made victim of an earthquake that only seemed to assail him and him only. His hopes, his dreams, his emotions- they were all set off. Chaos and disorder raged on within himself as he concluded that he did not know how to react to this sort of situation; his feelings wreaking havoc and creating anxiety to indulge himself whilst he was- truthfully, freaking out.

He was scared.

He was confused.

And worst of all, he was on the outskirts of falling and tumbling down into the chasms of denial, for the umpteenth time in his life; his feet were skidding metaphorically on the edge of declination to strive to prevent him from nearly becoming caught up in his default defense system. That was what it was; he was always swallowed by his insecurities and various refutations, to attempt to get away from feelings and things that he knew would hurt him. And at this moment, he was deathly injured, in the sense that the feelings he was experiencing were hurtful; so his mind was really seeking help from his 'denying glands.'

"Aleksandr," A voice ventured on within his mind, though the aforementioned teen didn't really pay attention to it; he was too preoccupied with rocking back and forth atop of the cot he sat on, and also rotating the silver memento of the person he loved between his hands and fingers. A look that said 'traumatized' soon spread across Aleks' facial features, and a petrified hue was hasty to develop in the ashy-amber pools of disbelief that were the brunette's ocular devices. He could feel himself becoming detached from the world surrounding him, and he just- couldn't handle this.

Was there a way out from this? A possible scapegoat for the unbelievable events that'd taken place? Could he just return to his life, that was positively brightened by Eddie? Could he go back to when the Latino he came to be fond of gave him the same ring he was caressing now, or even when the same fawn-skinned teen gave him hope by breaking him free from his parents' clutches? Was it possible to return back to when the Latino first walked into his classroom on the first day of school, which made him begin refusing his friendship until he finally caved under the weight of how great Eddie was?

Aleks could only wish. And boy was he wishing exponentially right now.

"Mr. Marchant." Some more words seemed to play in the background of his racing and overwhelmed mind, yet the Russian couldn't shake off his afraid emotions that were plaguing long enough for him to actually listen. He continued to shake, and not long after he heard incoherent words, he felt a stray tear fall free of his tear ducts and slither down his cheek.

Anxiety, terror, sadness, grief, refutation, a dying hope, a fleeting faith, and an overpowering sense of hatred. The aforementioned emotions were what he experienced as his eyes fell closed again. Future words went through one ear and came out the other, until one thing sprang out at him.

"Aleksandr!"

"Aleksandr,"

"Aleksandr- Mr. Marchant!"

"A-Ally."

His- nickname? But... how? And that voice? Was that the doctor? Upon hearing the deliberate shortening of his name, the Russian's already ragged and shallow breathing hitched in his chest, as he hiccuped, before he blinked open his eyes to attempt to clear his vision of the blotchy tears. He swallowed the lump and the feelings caught up in his throat that was created because of his sniveling, and stared down at the ring he held onto with his mind still in the gutters. His eyes still released streams of the clear, salty liquid as he looked at the silver band, and it was after a good long moment when he thought he calmed down enough, even though he was still sniffling and occasionally taking a second to sob for a short period of time.