Fight

He sat there. On the bench. Nothing but himself. Just sitting there. Not a bird in the sky, not a trail of ants crawling through the cracks of the sidewalk, nothing. Just him. He’s J. J isn’t his name. It’s what he tells people to call him. He doesn’t have a name. His guardians never named him. He didn’t deserve a name. He sat there. He waited for noise. He waited for a sound. Nothing.
Nothing until she arrived. It wasn’t someone he knew. It was just a woman. Walking. He could hear the music she blasted in her ears. It was just noise. Random notes in an organized chaos. It wasn’t even organized. It was ugly. Almost as ugly as she. Her frizzy brunette hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Her forehead was unusually large. Her side view was ugly. A nose that stretched as long as a football field, her nostrils flared from the struggle to breathe. Her eyes were a sh*tty brown. Her face was coated in mud as well. Some people might call the mud freckles. Ick.
Who was he to judge?
He watched her pass him. Bye-bye, ugly lady.
Of course he would never say any of these things out loud. He wasn’t much of a looker, but at least he wasn’t as ugly as her.
How rude. He can’t call others ugly if he isn’t gorgeous.
Whatever. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, just like how there was nothing around him either.
Life. It was nowhere. What is life? Why is everything happening? What’s the purpose? Why do we care so much? About everything? Nothing mattered. Why is he repeating his thoughts? He cared. He didn’t care. He didn’t know who he was.
Sh*t. Everything was sh*t. He stood. He sat back down. The world went black.
And it was night. He stood up. He didn’t sit back down. He walked. He ran. He sprinted. He fell.
Crack. Red. Stars. Stand. Hobble.
And run.
Everything was empty. Nobody there to feel the crack. Nobody there to dry the blood. Nobody there to stop him. Whatever.
He was home. Was it home? It was an empty space. Empty, but not quite. Not as empty as his body. An empty vessel. Unused vessel. Soul trapped.
What? I thought there was a couch. Where did it go? It left. Inanimate objects didn’t even stay for him.
Why?
He didn’t know. Didn’t care enough.
Enough. Enough was enough. He sat up. Stood up. His stomach hurt. His guts twisted. His fridge left a week ago. No bugs. No birds. Nothing. What? What.
Stupid. He fell backward. Dark.
He rose from the grass. It was soft. Softest thing he ever felt. Softer than his guardian. Softer than the hardwood floor. Softer than the couch. Softer than his body.
He looked around.
Where? Why.
Green. Nothing but green. Grass. Sky. Clouds. Rain. It was raining?
He didn’t notice. Why didn’t he notice. How didn’t he notice. Don’t know. Don’t care.
Care. Funny. Care: to assist in health, physical, mental, emotional, anything to help.
Who cared.
Dark.
What?
It was light. The floor was dark. The walls were light. There was no ceiling. Nothing. The contrast. It hurt his head. He didn’t like it. He wanted to be in the dark. He could hide in the dark. Wet. It was raining.
No. Not rain. Sweat? No. Drool? No.
New. It was new. From a new place. His eyes. What?
That never happened. New. He didn’t like new.
He faceplanted. He wanted to embrace dark. He didn’t like the bright. Never will.
The floor turned bright. He brought his knees to his chest. He buried his face. No. Too fast. Too much. He shut his eyes. In squeezing his eyes, they became like lemons. Everything. His mouth opened. Sound. At last.
He didn’t like the sound. Why? It was weak. A weak sound.
He wanted nothing. He didn’t like everything. He didn’t like anything. He wanted everything. Now he didn’t. Greedy. Selfish.
Help.
Notice.
Save.
He wished. He hoped. He regretted.
Hello?
Help.
Here. I’m here.
No.
What?
Go away.
Help?
…
…
Please. Help.
I will.
No, don’t.
Why?
I don’t know.
I can help.
Please.
What’s wrong?
Everything. Nothing.
Take my hand.
He reached out. Nothing. Then.
Everything.
Bright. Too bright. No. No. Too much.
But...
The bright was nice. No. No. Too much.
He wanted to embrace it. No. No. Too much.
He grabbed it. No. No. Please.
He embraced it. No. No. Why.
He was bright. It was good. It was warm.
He opened his eyes.
Life. Life was everywhere.
Birds sang. Ants crawled. Run. Run.
No. No running. No more red. No more hard. No more cracks. No more dark.
He was out. He cried.
Not tears of dark.
Tears that shined brighter than any bright.