I Remember

~》I Remember《~

I know I've never been what they call "normal", but I didn't think I was that weird. That crazy. I just lived my life, trying to support three of us living in one dumpy apartment, taking what I could get from a crappy diner job I worked with my friend. If I can even call him my friend.

Joel and I were close for a while, but that was ... years ago. I don't really know what changed, and honestly, I was afraid of asking. But I considered him my friend, because other than Braken, I was the only one he hadn't beaten up in three months. Three months! I think that's a new record.

Anyway, I never really thought I was all that crazy. Sure, I was chronically clumsy and a nervous wreck and I trusted people too easily, but come on. I'm not crazy.

Am I?

The first time I actually thought about this was the time I was waiting tables and this little kid looked at me and asked, "Are you a vampire?"

I kind of recoiled, surprised, and the parents apologized. "Oh, it's fine," I said quickly. "What makes you think that?" I asked as a joke, but I got a different answer.

"Well ... you're really white," the kid said.

My heart started thumping, my hands started sweating, and I began to shake a little. I held up my hand in front of my face, comparing my skin tone to theirs. I was pale.

"And why are you covered in bandaids?"

"I - I fell." I rubbed my arm nervously and put on a smile. "It was just an accident." In truth, it was a lot of accidents. It's embarrassing how many times I've cut myself in the sharp corner of the counter at the apartment.

"Do you turn into a bat at night?" the kid asked. "Does sun hurt you?"

"No," I answered. I tried to answer. Instead, I just made a sort of gargling sound in the back of my throat and backed up.

"We're really sorry about that," the mother apologized as the father told the kid to shut his mouth. "He's not quite used to ... this."

Used to what? What about me was so different than the rest of the world?

"Can I take your order?" I tried to ask, but again, I just made a strange noise as if in pain.

Another waitress walked past and noticed my struggle. She gave her table their drinks and tapped my shoulder. "Hey, Leo. You're not looking too good. Go sit down for a few minutes. I'll take this one."

I nodded a little, my eyes wide and my pale face turning pink in embarrassment. I fumbled to hand her my notepad, though she already had one, and then quickly walked myself to the back room, where I practically tripped up a wall and banged my arm hard on the counter. I flopped down in a chair and rested my face in my hands. What was wrong with me? The innocent kid wasn't even close to guessing what was really going on.

"Joel, am I weird?" I asked as soon as I got home. I headed straight for the bandages while I waited for my answer, as I'd fallen on the walk home.

He glanced up from the paper he was reading and snorted.

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Completely insane," he muttered.

Someone poked my arm three times and I jumped away with a shriek. "Oh, hi, Braken. How are you feeling today?"

The other didn't answer. He just handed me an envelope and sighed. He looked awful. His exhausted eyes were haunted, like he'd seen things no guy his age - or anyone, for that matter - should see. He drooped over as he walked - staggered is a better word - and slumped over onto the counter, grabbing for the basket of medication. I watched him silently, wondering which one he was going to take today.