The Cost Of Life and Risks

“It doesn't count if you’re already planning your defeat.”

“Well, what if defeat is the only answer? The only possible plan?”

“Then I would begin to doubt the question I am answering.”

“What if the question is rushed upon you and has fatal consequences if you fail?”

“Then choose the right answer.” Our eyes locked. His smirk is slow on his face. 

I try to do the same on mine. Mimicking him. I want to remember and absorb all of this. Not let a piece escape. I am trying so hard to remember, tears burn in my eyes. This isn't what I wanted. I wanted more, but we couldn't have that, now could we? We are limited to the wills of evil.

The wills of man. 

I breathe in deep, closing my eyes. His fingers brush my cheek, but when I open they are gone. Nothing stands in front of me. No man. No ghost. The only things I see are just the trees whipping by. The train running on its tangled tracks. My death. 

Black. 

I wake up. My head exploding with excruciating pain. I want this to end! It to all go away! But the pain spreads in my body. Trickling down my neck. To my back. Down my legs. To my feet. All of it just gushing from my head. I haven't the strength to open my eyes, but my ears are muffled, and still hearing things. I hear voices. They mummer all around me. I want to know who they are. What are they saying? I can't though. The pain is like a drum beating on the inside. Screaming. It doesn't want me to know. 

It 

Won't. 

…

“Anna?” a voice pierces through my thoughts. Slicing open my imagination and letting reality seep in. Like air to a cut. It stings coming up to the truth, but we must in order to live.

“Yes,” I say firmly as my eyes meet with a man dressed in a lab coat. His face is rough, and his eyes are popping from his head. They have dark circles. Bloodshot. 

“Come with me.” His voice lingers as I absorb it. His mysterious tone settles wrong in my bones, but I can't let this bother me. I have something I need. To get to it I must continue on. Proceed. Push and power through. I stand. My legs want to shake below me, but I command them to be strong. I hold my breath. Suck it in and don't let it go. I won't let it go. It’s all I have. Until it's not. Until it's stolen from me. Taken. 

...

It's a significant reminder someone is dead. Therefore when I lose my breath. I will be happy. 

Happy alone. 

Being nothing. 

Escaping what I thought was true. 

Waking up from the nightmare only to fall in a dream. 

A dream where people don't live. 

No people. 

No gossip. 

No talk. 

No breath. 

Nothing. 

That's where I will be happy. 

..

“But will you be happy?” I feel his eyes watch me. See if I am lying. I just tilt my head back some more and breathe in. My eyes close and I imagine darkness. I see nothing. I feel nothing until his hand wraps around mine. His warm fingers enclosing in my cold boney ones. My breathing stutters. He can tell as he pulls back, but I squeeze his hand still. It doesn't matter how much I ignore it, or deny it. I need him. Here. Seeing me. Understanding. 

I. Am. Not. Normal. 

I. Am. Not. Basic. 

I. Am. Not. Fine. 

I. AM. CRAZY. Or at least that's what they say. They. The people of my world. My hemisphere. My country. My state. My city. My town. My neighborhood. My street. My home. Everyone. They all know. They all can see,

I. AM. NOT. NORMAL.

I. AM. NOT. BASIC. 

I. AM. NOT FINE.

I. AM. CRAZY. 

Crazy when I see things. When I hear things. When I feel things. When I smell things. When I taste things. I tell them, and they turn their heads. Shun me. Won't meet my eyes. But he. He stares right into them. Like I am a clock or machine. He watches my gears turn. Wanting to study them. Break them apart. Dissect it. Or he doesn't. I can't tell from the walls built up in his brain. He enjoys staring in awe at others madness, and yet hides his own. Destroys it, or even better. He cages it. Locks it up. Won't let it out. He is the doctor, not the sick patient. Like me. 

…

“Are you ready?” He asks with a smile for reasurment, but how can I be reassured? This is not what I want. Or is it? What am I? Who am I? My breathing is heavy now and a brick of insecurities sits heavy on my lungs. Shoving them down. I can't breathe. They can. They know that. They “know everything.”

...

“Anna. Calm down. It’s me. Michael.” His face. It's here. Why? I thought he left. Went to serve the better good. Getaway. He couldn't stand what I do to myself. Allowing myself to fall into the hands of the curious. The ones who dream to walk Mars, but won't walk themselves. They need others. So, I volunteered. Let them open me up. In order to do that I was packed and shipped. On the Navy Dream train. 

…

“Anna wake up?!” I feel like someone is waking me from my eternal sleep. I feel needles being pulled from my arms…

“ANNA!” my eyes crack open and light stings them. I can't feel my legs. Everything is numb. I can barely hear the person screaming at me.

I am air. 

I am space. 

I am black.

I am white. 

I am color.

I am sound. 

I am- “ANNA!” That's when it stings me. Sends me back to reality. I am wrapped in Michaels's arms. He has tears around the edges of his eyes. I can barely make out much of his face with the mask the covers it, but I know it's him. I know him too well. 

“M-i-c-h.”

“Yes. Yes.” He squeezes me hard. He leans down and plants his lips on my forehead. He is all I can focus on. Everything else is blurring around me. He looks dead in my eyes. “Anna I am getting you back home. Promise.” My conscience screams at him.

I. HAVE. NO. HOME. Breathe

HOME. IS. SAFETY.

LOVE.

SUPPORT. 

UNDERSTANDING.

He was my only home, till he left. 

“No,” I say in my worn dry voice. He looks in my eyes. He knows this is where I belong. In a stasis pod headed for Mars. I will live beside the Marsions and finally be understood for who I am. I will finally be a normal person. A crazy lady living among other aliens. Micheal’s face droops with this newfound realization. He looks up and continues walking. My body is starting to wake up again. I can finally see around me. We are standing in the Navy Dream. A train headed to a lift-off station somewhere discreet. I was strapped in a stasis pod that’s now broken open. Throughout the train cart, I see everything in shambles. 

Click.

Click.

Click.

…

“Micheal what is happening?!” Seriousness swarmed us. 

“I want to get you home. Home back in Texas. Home back at the house. With me. Not here. Stored away. Preparing TO GO INTO SPACE!? You are shipping yourself to MARS! DO YOU GET IT!? WHY!? I DONT UNDERSTAND!? WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME!” 

“Micheal! YOU LEFT ME!” I stop and catch my breath. I haven’t fully woken up yet. It’s a struggle to even speak. 

“Anna. I am sorry I ruined your plan. Your plan to be an alien. Walk among Marshes. Why? I have no clue.” He turns and looks out of the gaping hole in the train cart. I run. Shoving my self into his arms. 

“I didn’t want to leave you! But I have to go! I want them to find a better home for you! Humans! ALL MANKIND!” I am now,

Yelling,

Screaming,

Wanting,

To wake up from the nightmare I have created.

“You haven’t realized, the only home I will ever want is with you. If I can’t have that what will I have? I will lose. Everyday.”

“It doesn't count if you’re already planning your defeat.”

“Well, what if defeat is the only answer? The only possible plan?”

“Then I would begin to doubt the question I am answering.”

“What if the question is rushed upon you and has fatal consequences if you fail?”

“Then choose the right answer.” Our eyes locked. His smirk is slow on his face. 

I try to do the same on mine. Mimicking him. I want to remember and absorb all of this. Not let a piece escape. I am trying so hard to remember, tears burn in my eyes. This isn't what I wanted. I wanted more, but we couldn't have that, now could we? We are limited to the wills of evil.

The wills of man. 

I breathe in deep, closing my eyes. His fingers brush my cheek, but when I open they are gone. Nothing stands in front of me. No man. No ghost. The only things I see are just the hole in which my life went, trees whipping by, the train running on its tangled track.