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Lone Wolfe; G039 start, Open
Topic Started: Aug 13 2016, 05:24 PM (872 Views)
Ruggahissy
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i'm not upset
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Caleb Diamond: start))


Caleb was curled up in the corner of the room near a cot. His breathing was shallow and he felt queasy, thirsty and weak. His eyes were brimming with tears, but he wasn't crying just yet.

"How is this ? How is this ? How is this ?" he muttered to himself.

How was it fair? They were being punished for what? Why? Everyone saw the same thing that he did. He didn't trust them. They were his friends out there, but he couldn't trust them no matter how much he liked them. He squeezed his eyes shut and a few tears dripped down.

He felt his heart beat rapidly as he hugged his knees. He'd never thought about trust a great deal. If you'd have asked him about if he felt he could trust his friends the day before he probably would have shrugged and said "Maybe. I guess." It was hard as it was for him to have faith in people being decent to other people when he saw how easily someone could flip given the right motivation in person. They would break any trust he had left, probably within a few hours. Caleb didn't think of himself as a naive person, but now yesterday's Caleb seemed hopelessly glib.

Caleb swallowed hard. He tried to stand. His legs gave way when he tried and he collapsed onto the floor next to a crusty and ancient brown stain. Blood or shit from a crazy person who probably died in this building just like he would. He reached into his pocket for a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, they were the only thing he could think of that might calm him down. It was no good. His hands were shaking so much he could barely hold the crinkled package. The more he looked at his hands the sicker he felt. There was no way he'd be able to work a lighter in this condition.

He wasn't sure if it was fear or anger that paralyzed him. He hated with every inch, from his heels to his hands. He contracted into himself, laying in a fetal position.

How long am I going to have to wait to die?

He would have preferred if they could have just shot him in the head on the bus. He'd never been thirstier in his life, but he couldn't un-tense himself. The blood rushed to his ears, making all he heard around him white noise. Caleb felt like he would probably faint any second from the shock. If he was lucky someone would shoot him in the head after.
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Ruggahissy
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Caleb calmed down a little. He felt very tired, like he'd just hiked for hours. He stared straight ahead in something like a trance.

He remembered coming down the stairs at home, his right hand in an itchy cast. He came down second, he was always second. The living room was all fucked up. Drawers were open, loose wires splayed and the outlines of where objects once were in dust.

He blinked slowly. He remembered his twin, Andy. He remembered palling around with him and sitting on the couch.

"Did you hear that thing Kanye West said or whatever?" he said, hanging upside down on the couch.

"No," responded Andy hunching forward to see Caleb. "What did he say?"

"Dave Chapelle says he was hanging out with him and the phone rang. All he hears Kanye West say is 'Hello. Huh? What? Uh uh, I can’t. I can’t. Cause, I’m at Dave Chappelle’s show watching sketches that nobody’s ever seen before.'

And then he says, 'Cause my life is dope, and I do dope shit,” and then he hung up.' "

Andy burst out laughing in a high sort of cackle totally different than Caleb's.

"Cause my life is dope," said Andy.

"And I do dope shit," finished Caleb cracking a rare smile.



Caleb would never be happy again and he would die for nothing. Life wasn't perfect, but he put in an effort. He had tried and it was all going to fall apart. He was dizzy now. There were two noises from different directions. His hands weren't shaking as violently as they had been. He scrambled, trying to wipe the tears and distress from his face.



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Ruggahissy
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((Looks like I got skipped. I guess this will be new posting order))

Caleb took a few deep breaths. That morning he hadn't said good bye to his family. He and his brothers had been out skateboarding the night before. They were almost home, when James bet Andy and Caleb to a race down the steep hill leading to their house. Caleb wouldn't take the bet, but Andy did. They took off fast. Andy hit something, a rock maybe and was flung off the board. A sickening squelch happened and he lay on the payment with an unnaturally twisted arm. It was broken. Andy was taken to the hospital and both his parents stayed overnight. He took James to school and boarded the bus for the field trip.

"See what you did, you retards."

Those might have been his last words to them. He had always been the unlucky one and he thought this time he'd escaped trouble. It turns out he just wasn't thinking far enough ahead.

Caleb continued breathing deep. He still felt like hot garbage. His stomach was flipping, his heart felt weak and he was still dizzy. All in all it reminded him of the similar effects of listening to Skrillex. He got up on all fours and shuffled to the bed. He grabbed the partially rusted metal frame until he was standing. It was then he noticed that the door to his room was wide open.

He heard another door nearby slowly creek open and saw the bag on the floor. He lurched forward, grabbed the bag's handle and dragged it along the filthy ground until he got to the door. The door had scratch marks on the inside and what looked to be like a piece of old, cracked, yellowed finger nail stuck partially in it. Caleb slammed it shut and then sat down next to it and his bag. He imagined the areal view of the area, imagined looking down on numerous similar holding cells with other kids from his class bouncing around like a scientist looking down on a bunch of rats.

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Ruggahissy
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Caleb sat with his back to the scratched-up door. There was no noise. He brought his thumb to his mouth and bit it slightly with the nail facing down. The only light coming in was from a window opposite him with bars set into the frame. The light cast from the window formed stripes in the room.

He heard his heart beating, but nothing else. He reached down and unzipped the duffle bag at his feet. The zipper crackled. Still no noise. Maybe whoever was here had left. His hand poked around and felt familiar textures like bottles of water and food bars. He pulled a first aid kit out and inspected it, then put it back. What he wasn't ready for was a clammy rubber feel.

Caleb's mouth pulled into a cynical half-smile. It was a mask of the head of the 37th president of the United States. He put the mask on over his whole head, including his beanie. There were holes for the eyes and a hole for his mouth, though it included Nixon's large teeth as if he was in the middle of a sentence.

"I'll sell our children's organs to zoos for meat," said Caleb in his best Nixon voice, shaking his head to see if the mask was appropriately jowl-y. He was even more hopelessly fucked than before, but it cheered him up a little. Finding his hands had stopped shaking somewhat he pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and successfully lit it, pushing the plume of smoke through the mouth hole in the mask.
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Ruggahissy
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Caleb continued to sit with his back to the metal door, smoking from behind his mask. He heard them faintly discus him. It didn't seem all that different than regular life. He was aware of how he came off to others and promoted it to some degree.

He pushed that line of thought away for now. Nothing good was going to come from going down that road. He took another drag off his cigarette and held the smoke in his lungs for a moment.

He didn't know who was on the other side of the door. The voices weren't clear enough and didn't sound familiar. If he were to assume that the voices belonged to some of the students that he'd seen around but didn't know well, then what? He didn't like most people, so these unknown entities were not starting with good odds. Part of him wanted to be left alone forever. If he had to die, the thought of staying in his room alone for as long as possible was appealing.

He let the smoke out. Some of it caught behind his mask.

Thinking about his general distaste for most people made him consider the people he did like. He thought about Kimiko and started to feel guilty about staying in his cell. Did he have any obligation to seek her out?

Maybe. The answer wasn't clear.

Caleb tapped his cigarette to shake loose the spent tip.

The sick, light feeling was starting to return. If it came down to the two of them would he be willing to die for his friend, Kimiko? Yes. It was a much easier answer than the first one. Back to the first question. Was Caleb obligated to get up and go find his friend to help her either survive or make her last days as comfortable as possible?

Caleb bit his lip. No, he was under no moral obligation to do this. He sat for a few seconds. Caleb grabbed his duffle bag, slung it over his arm and still sitting on the ground, slowly pushed open the door. He poked his head out to look at the two people. He slowly brought his hand out next to his face and formed a V-shape with his index and middle finger.
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Ruggahissy
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Caleb let out a breath he'd been holding in and smiled. Of course, the smile was hidden behind his grotesque Nixon mask. If he was the type to laugh, he might have laughed now. They were totally scared shitless, which was hilarious.

Caleb stood up, still keeping most of his body behind the door frame due to the presence of the crossbow. He knew them both vaguely, more so Rene who liked video games, but not the ones he liked. Still, he'd see her around sometimes.

He lifted the mask, wiped his eyes clumsily with the back of his hand and took a drag of his cigarette. He let the smoke out shakily, still smiling just a tiny bit, mostly in relief now.

"Hi," he exhaled, along with more smoke.
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Ruggahissy
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Caleb cracked a half smile at Rene's wordplay. It was actually pretty funny, funnier than he would have thought she could be. He almost made a crack about trying to find an intern, but that was the wrong president.

"I take offense to being called 'tricky.'"

He looked all around at the sound of the bell that resonated around them suddenly.

"We'd have to be deaf not to hear it," he said, somewhat grumbly.

Caleb walked back to his cell and looked out the window. In between the bars he could make out a gothic-style bell tower. "Well, if anyone's still out that'll wake them up."

Caleb was suddenly struck with a thought and went to the next door, opening it cautiously. No one there. He did the same with a few other doors, all similarly empty.

"I don't think there's anyone else in here. I mean, I don't know about the rest of the building but at least not like, right here where we are."

He was calming down every uneasy moment, but he still had no idea what to do. He dropped his mostly spent cigarette and crushed it under his heel. "So now what?"
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Ruggahissy
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Caleb blinked and watched Rene ramble and slowly back out of the hallway they were standing in. He looked to Sam. He wondered if they should go after her. It seemed like a remarkably poor idea to wander out alone unless she was in fact planning on killing people. Either way, she wasn't his responsibility.

"Well..." he started. It was awkward, there was no doubt. He'd seen Sam before and knew who he was a little. Maybe they'd exchanged a few words over the years, but they hadn't had anything close to a deep or extended conversation.

"Guess it's just us?" he ventured nervously, but trying to maintain his hard exterior. He steeled himself for rejection just in case.

"Um....if you want to....go"

((Caleb Diamond continued in Among These Hallowed Halls))
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