Believe

Points of View

Time flips by in the blur of pages until minutes merge into hours and she finds herself holding the disintegrating pieces of a day, staring out the window and trying to force a change.

It isn't working.

Sunlight crashes against the glass, trying to get in to reach her, streaming through the clear pane. She lets it brush against her skin, wrinkled face melting into craggy folds of mountains and shadows.

A soft knock reverberates through the room from behind her. The door will open whether she wants it to or not. "Come in." I'm in control.

The sound of shoes on her carpet pulse into the open air, but silence holds until he stands by her side, staring out the window next to her.

She doesn't need to look at him to see him, to know he's there. He's always there at this time every day to check on her. It's been this way since she came here a month ago.

Because I'm too powerful. Because I'm special. Because I'm dangerous, and I can change everything. 

Words scrawl over her peripheral vision, obscuring her view of him with another. A description, one she knows by heart now. She's read it too many times.

Black-brown hair, more black than brown, left long and unkempt. Olive skin tanned by the sun into brown, a small tattoo curling around a right forearm. Defined muscle hidden under a baggy blue shirt.

The same thing, every day. He's a character she's tired of reading.

"Mrs. Wang, I need to know how you're doing." He talks like nothing matters anymore, and maybe nothing does. He's done this too many times.

They're trying to dull my mind. They know what I can do.

The heavy masking gloom begins to lift from her shoulders, raven's claws letting go of her skin, and suddenly her bloodstreams fills with potent energy that rushes to her heart, her head.

"Me? How I'm doing? 你為什麼－Sorry, no, why...I'm perfectly fine, amazing. I'm going to die, you know. I'm going to die and you'll watch me," she says, mouth aflame with words, pouring from her in a torrent. "Don't you think that's funny?"

"Ms. Wang, please calm-"

"You'll see this broken old body, dead like you always wanted. Ha!" She gets up, leaves the window seat to face him, leaden legs injected with sudden vitality. "都是你害的 (It's all your fault). Did you bring the tea? I thought I said to bring tea."

"Yeah, please just...tell me your fricken-"

"What?" She stops, heart racing still, words piling up in her throat, ready to be released when she opens her mouth. "You aren't allowed to talk to me like that, young man. I'll write you out of this story, 你笨蛋 (you idiot). I'm in charge of the world."

"...That's new," he says, weary, hands reaching up to brush hair out of his face. "It is way too early for this," he says, but his voice is low and soft, twining with his breath.

"Early for you? I couldn't sleep. Who needs to sleep anyway? I need to change the world. I hate this stupid body. How are the roses today? We're gardening, right?"

He opens his mouth, holding back the flooding emotions she sees in his eyes, then lets everything out in the space of one silent, dead-tired sigh. "I gotta ask. Okay, Mrs. Wang. How will you change the world?"

They want my plans. But he can't change anything, no matter how long they keep me in this prison.

"Young man, you think you know the world? I know it better. I can see the words to everything-" Her mouth is too slow for the words, her strong accent twisting them into incoherence, just a mess of slurring syllables. "I'll save myself. I won't die. I'll change it all, this whole world, because I can."

"You're not going to die out of nowhere, c'mon. Please don't. I can't deal with this, I'm sorry," he says, backing out. "I'll get Maggie to check on you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Quietly, she watches him turn to leave the room.

"Wait."

Her scratched-up voice shatters the momentary silence, ripped from an overused throat. Her eyes are alive with flames.

He waits a moment, impatience breeding. She can see it.

"You want to know what I can do? Young people like you always think you can stop us, but you can't. I'm going to start by changing small stuff. Like turning a stoplight from red to green. Just for practice. Or...or changing a tenor saxophone to an alto. Small things. "

Her words run faster than she can think.

"It hurts to die, don't you know? No, you're young, strong...I could make myself like you. And I'll rewrite the world around myself and I can fix everything. My daughter, I'll fix her too...she crochets the most adorable little towels. I...I think I need to learn how to crochet. Crocheting...or knitting? No, no, I already know how to knit. Bring me some string next time, will you? If I'm in prison, I might as well have some entertainment other than watching you squirm."

"Prison? Who said anything about that?" he says, holding up his hands. "I didn't get all these degrees to be a fricken' prison guard, thanks. No offense to prison guards. And I'll be..er...watching out for stoplights then. And alto saxes. Good luck...changing them."

"運氣(luck)? I don't need luck." She sits back at the window seat. Her precious toy world rotates outside, filled with billions of people. They're all just players in this game. Pieces on a chessboard. "Are you ever going to tell me who you really are?"

He stands for a moment in the doorway, halfway out, halfway in, hoping to escape but trapped by her words. It amuses her.

Letting out another pained sigh, he grinds out, "I'm Samuel, for the fiftieth time. Your bloody nurse, if you ever care to remember my name. Well, only until Agatha gets back. And I'm going to be fired for being insensitive but-I'm not going to watch this happen to you. I don't know if you're faking this to psych me out but...no."

He's lying. He's lying, has been lying since the first day he came here. "You? Ha! 胡說八道（nonsense). There's no way you're a nurse. Nurses don't watch over me like you do, creep."

"...What the hel- alright, believe what you want. You've got some kind of delusions going on, delusion of grandeur or something, and you think I'm the one who's lying? At least I'm not pretending to be some kind of bloody god," he snaps, spitting the words out before his eyes go wide. "Bollocks, I need to shut my fricken' trap." He lets the door close behind him.

The wall stares at her, smug in its indifference. She closes her eyes and thinks of him and his parting words. "Believe what you want. I'll believe myself."

They're set on two separate paths to different realities, and she knows she's walking the road less travelled.