If it wasn't because I needed to pee like a normal human being, I wouldn't have
moved from my bed at all.
It deemed strange, walking to the bathroom with a skeleton foot on fire. It didn't
feel missing, I could walk on it (maybe with a little wobbly here and there),
but the area felt numb, like I know something is supposed to be present,
filling the space my foot was, but it is absent, gone, like it never existed.
In a way, my foot itself was a paradox, there but not there, alive but dead, like me.
My brother and I exchanged silent looks on the way past his bedroom. Zachary looks
the same, with big hazel eyes and blond hair, a small mole under his nose and
tiny star-like-freckles on his face, but I don't know if he's really my brother, or is he a copy of him? Is my brother the same every time he dies, or is he like a clone-?
"Take a fucking picture or move, bird brain." Zachary said, grumbling under his breath and shooting me a suspicious look; as a response, I hurriedly move my eyes, "and why are you walking like that?"
I stop, looking through his open bedroom door. Zachary hops off his bed, giving
me a scowl. I looked down at him, watching him fold his arms, like he's waiting
on me like a child.
"Huh?"I asked, confused.
Zachary rolls his eyes. "You're limping, like something is wrong with your fucking foot."
I look from my foot to him. "You think there isn't anything wrong with it?"
Zachary looks from my foot to me, giving me this look. "No. It looks normal. Like, you
know, what a foot is supposed to look like."
I look down at the missing limb, slowly nodding my head. "Right…" I
continue my way to the bathroom before I stop again. "Uh-weird question, but what's the…date?"
Zachary turns away with the roll of his eyes. "The 1st. Check your phone next time,
moron." And he closes the door in my face.
After I finish using the bathroom, I head back to my room, and stand in the middle of
it.
I go to my book bag, take out my water bottle, and sit on my bed, fazed. I
don't even take a sip out of it. I just look at it, focused now on my loud breathing, looking around me until I look through the window, the sun hidden by tree branches.
Suddenly, a knuckle covers the sun; there is a soft knock on my window. I turn my head
and see Not-so-Sebastian looking right at me, his blue eyes piercing through
thin glass, into my lungs.
Not-so-Sebastian silently waits on the ledge, watching me watch him.
"You can come in." I said. Not-so-Sebastian nods, closing the window behind him. He eyes me up and down until his eyes land on my foot, and his face turns from neutral to
horrified.
"What happened to your foot-?!" He asked.
"You knew." I cut him off. "And yeah, we can talk about that too, but you knew about
it."
Not-so-Sebastian freezes, looking anywhere but me. "About your foot-? I didn't know about-."
"The dates," I said, I glare at him, my arms crossed on my chest, "about this whole redo day thing."
"I-."
"Of course, you knew," I cut him off, "you acted so weird when I mentioned it…" I shake my head. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Well," Sebastian shrinks in on himself, "we were interrupted. And then today started
again, so…I couldn't talk to you about it until now…I'm sorry."
I shake my head, wordlessly, because he's right, which is what frustrates me the
most.
"You died again." Sebastian clenches his hands into fist. "Was it-?"
"Who else would it be?" I confirm.
Sebastian bows his head.
"I'm sorry-."
"Stop that," I look away, surprising myself with watery eyes. "What's that gonna do?"
Not-so-Sebastian grabs my shoulders, seeking my face. I turn away every time he
tries to look, my eyes dripping with water, unbeknownst to my own pleas for it
to stop.
"It hurt so bad," is all I say. I feel so weak and cowardly, "and I kept calling for you-fuck."
Eloped by a bear hug by a guy taller than half an NBA basketball team doesn't seem as
weird as it sounds after you're in the hug. They're these big arms squeezing you and holding you like a protection you never had until now. I'm not a small guy, about 6'1 with muscle and an athletic stance, but I feel
small, in Not-So-Sebastian's embrace, or smaller than I did these last few days. I felt like some damsel in distress, being held and nurtured under everything that swears curses and divine pain towards me. Maybe that's what's happening—maybe—just maybe, I turned into some Disney princess, finding
my prince under the farce of evilness.
"Sorry," Sebastian murmurs for the twelfth, now thirtieth time, "I'm sorry."
"And you didn't answer," I said, and I'm holding him back because I didn't know what else to hold on to. "And I'm all alone. A-and this suck."
"Who said you were in this alone?" He pulls away suddenly, bowing his head low
enough to investigate my face, confusion resting on his own, "I'm not leaving
you alone in this?"
"Why would you help me?" I asked.
"Why wouldn't I?" He refutes.
"What would you have to gain by-?"
"What would I have to lose?" Not so Sebastian smiles, and it's not so bad, his
smile, "I'm already half dead."
I snort, wiping my eyes. "Technically speaking, I guess I am too so…we are
definitely in the same boat there."
"Yea," he lets go of me, clearing his throat, "we are."
We stand there, avoiding each other's eyes, but our eyes search for one another's,
like we are dancing this tango that slows down, stops, and repeats. And then
Not-so-Sebastian keeps his eyes for mine to find his, and I do, and this time I
don't run away. I stay long enough for him to catch me, tie me in and refuse
defiance, urging me to become embraced in his eyes, buoyant and spry.
"We should figure out how to-how to fix this." I fiddle with my hands, forcing my
eyes away from Sebastian's. "And these dates and that masked guy-. We need to
figure all this out-."
"But first," Sebastian looks to my foot, "that doesn't…hurt?"
"Oh this? Nah man." I shrug, eyeing my missing foot. "If anything, I'm kind of numb down there."
"You're so casual…about this…should I be concerned?" He asked; I laugh, patting his shoulder.
"Dude, I've been dying straight for the past two? Like I know I should be freaking
out," I look to my foot, amused, "but--I mean--I wasn't very affected with the
toe being gone, so-."
"Toe?" Sebastian looks to me, horrified again.
"Yea man," I scratch the back of my ear, "one day I woke up and when I looked down,
there it was--my toe, gone. And now…my foot. So, there's probably a correlation
somewhere I didn't catch on yet."
"You should have mentioned that." Sebastian said.
I stare at Not-so-Sebastian's troubled face, guilt sinks in likw cold wind, quick
to make me shiver and quake under the chill temperature of my bedroom.
"Sorry," I said, "I probably could have mentioned it…but in all fairness, it wasn't the
first thing on my mind."
Sebastian gives me a look that expresses to me why it should—in fact--have been
the first thing on my mind, but I don't comment much further on the topic.
"Can you walk?" He asked.
I nod, taking a step towards him. He quickly grabs on to my bicep, watching my
foot move forward. I pat his hand in reassurance.
"Sebastian. Dude." I laugh. "Take a step back."
Sebastian slowly let's go and follows my orders, taking a larger step back. I take a
large step forward with my ghost foot, bringing my feet together and standing
straight, raising my hands.
"See, all good." I snort. "A little tingly though."
Sebastian doesn't look convinced, but nods.
"So, now, let's talk." I said, crossing my arms. "Any ideas on how we get out of
this uh…situation?"
Sebastian turns his face from me, shrugging.
"Well, maybe that masked dude has answers?" I asked. Sebastian slowly turns his head, his eyes slowly widening by a millimeter, like his brain was ticking by a mental clock. "Um, why are you making that face?"
Sebastian nods his head, his face mixed with anxiety and nervousness, fear, and guilt.
"Why is your face like that?" I asked.
"Like what?" He counters.
"Like you're not giving me the whole story here," I asked, "are you telling me the
whole truth? You are, right?"
Sebastian doesn't nod or shake his head, but he responds with, "I should try catching the
masked guy-Masked Face?"
"Okay…I?"I frown, confused.
Sebastian raises an eyebrow. "Yes…I as in me…?"
"I'm not leaving you alone to do that." I said.
Sebastian looks confused and panicked. "Andrew, it doesn't make sense for you to-."
"This is my problem!" I point to my chest, giving Sebastian a look. "How does
it not-?"
"You know how many times they've caught you and killed you?" Sebastian shakes his
head. "How about let's not risk that again-."
"Then I can just…just…you know?" I motion my hands, my eyes avoiding Sebastian's like
a plague.
Sebastian looks horrified, appalled that the words that came out of my mouth actually
came out my mouth.
"Don't ever, ever imply that." He said, spitting the words out of gritted teeth.
I take a step back, shriveling up under Sebastian's stern gaze. It's the first
time I've seen Sebastian look terrifying, big, towering.
"I…Yea…my bad…" I swallow, "but I should help you. You can't just-I can't just-not
alone, okay? Promise me not alone."
Sebastian becomes silent, until he meets my eyes, and gives in.
"Okay," Sebastian nods, "okay, but we need a plan."
I snort. "Does it involve falling out of windows? Or dying in an infirmary?"
Sebastian bites his lip. "Hopefully, neither."
"Woah, well that took my hope away." I said, "any ideas on this big plan?"
Sebastian shakes his head.
I perch up, an idea suddenly running through my brain. "Maybe we-okay, if I-."
"No." Sebastian said.
"-leave myself open-."
"No."
I pause, clear my throat, and continue.
"And you like-you hide, and when she attacks, we battle it out. You know that cliché
thing?"
"Andrew." Sebastian whines.
I nod, pleased. "Should we wait until after practice?"
Sebastian deflates "Do we really have to do it that way-?"
"Yes,"I said, grinning.
Sebastian sighs. "Okay, yeah, that's fine, as long as you're careful-."
"Wait, what are we doing?" I asked.
Sebastian frowns. "For what?"
"For practice?"