Who: April 14th and Oliver Fenn What: Phobia involuntarily makes a friend When: Sunday, February 4, 2018, afternoon Where: Outside the Facility
Phobia spat on the ground, looking up at the Facility. He needed to go in and get his new ID. The clock was ticking and he didn’t want them to come to him. He also did not want to get his new ID. Funny, it seemed like things were better when they weren’t all tagged. No one was asking for his opinion. No one was asking for their opinion at all. He just needed to go in there and get his. He really didn’t want to.
He turned on heel and walked away. He had time. He would get his before they came for him. He just wouldn’t be doing it now. Let him be one of the last. Let him be the last, he didn’t care. He didn’t want his ID yet. He didn’t want that weight back.
He saw someone head towards the Facility and without thinking about it, he stepped in front of them and asked, “You going to exchange your ID?” He didn’t know why he did it. He didn’t know what he hoped to happen next. Yet he did and he hadn’t moved yet.
April was looking at the ground as she headed to the Facility. That place was scary, and she didn’t want to go there. But she didn’t want scary people coming to her house. And wasn’t it a good thing to go and do what you were told? April wasn’t sure anymore. People were standing up against the government, people who seemed nice and like they wouldn’t do something like that without a good reason. It was all very confusing for April.
She nearly ran into the person who practically jumped in front of her. Stopping short just inches of running into him. April blinked and looked up to the familiar person. It was that mean guy from the party that was forever ago. April might not remember her past, but she had no problem with recent memory. Furrowing her brow, she took a cautious step back and shrugged. “Is that what we are supposed to do?”
Phobia did not consider it weird that she took a cautious step back. He was used to people being slightly unnerved by him. Besides, it was a fair question. It actually gave him a moment to think before he nodded and said, “Yes. I just don’t want to go in there.” He wasn’t why he was being so honest with that statement either. Maybe if someone else was going in there and getting their ID, maybe he didn’t need to wait. Except he really didn’t want his ID. He didn’t want to go in there. Not going in alone was not going to change that.
“Me neither.” April’s voice dropped to a whispered confession. It did make her feel a little better though that someone else didn’t want to go in either, regardless of reason. “Why don’t you want to go in there?” Granted, she didn’t know him very well, but from their first interaction, April kind of assumed that he wasn’t afraid like she was.
Phobia slid his hands into his pockets and glanced behind him to the building then back to April. He hesitated again before speaking, “A lot of reasons. I don’t like having an ID card. I don’t like being made to do something. I don’t like the threat if I don’t do it and,” he glanced back at the building, “It feels safer out here.” He looked back at April. He could feel her fears. She was even afraid of him. He shouldn’t be surprised. He wondered if he focused on that fear and let go with his powers, if he would just remain him. Or just become a different version of himself.
“We don’t have to go,” Phobia said, “Not now. Why do we have to?”
April wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She thought for a moment of a good reason, but came up with nothing. Shrugging, she just repeated what she’d originally said. “But… isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? I thought we’re supposed to follow the rules so they don’t hurt any more people. I don’t want to get beat up, and I don’t want anyone else to get in trouble either. Even you, even though you were mean, I don’t want bad things to happen to you.”
“I’m always mean,” Phobia said without thinking. Wait. Did he know her? He didn’t remember a blonde at the top of his head but he knew he had seen her around. He had seen her on the boards. He was probably mean there.
He also knew this was his opportunity to share hope and rainbows. He sucked at that. He could also understand her fears. If he was the hugging type, this was a hug moment, wasn’t it? He nodded and said, “Thank you. I don’t want people to be hurt either. I don’t want people to be afraid of it. We should do what is right, not just what they tell us.”
“Why are you always mean? Was someone mean to you? Or is it by mistake? Sometimes I am mean when I don’t want to be.” Even when April thought she was being mean, she rarely was. But she was just trying to understand.
April listened carefully, following easier than she thought she would. She bit her bottom lip in thought before looking up to him. “How do we know what’s right?”
Why was he mean? Phobia didn’t know. He just was. Because life was hard and there was no point in being rainbows and sunshine and happiness and glitter. Because life wasn’t any of those things and it was easier to let the darkness take over. Maybe because he had been hiding for as long as he had been, because he forced himself to come out and be social with Ashe, it was why he was thinking of an answer for April. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t just flipped her off yet. Or he was lonely and anyone right now was better than just himself and hiding in his room.
“I don’t want to sugarcoat things,” Phobia finally said, “Life sucks and I don’t see the point in sugar coating things.”
At least that question was easier, “We know because in the end it protects more people than it hurts. It lifts more people up than crushes them. We know because it doesn’t make people afraid.”
April frowned, but this time because she didn’t exactly agree. “But it doesn’t have to be that way. Life doesn’t have to suck. I remember when things were really bad and scary, but that doesn’t mean I have to be mean to people, that doesn’t change the bad things. But being nice does.” That was her very simple philosophy anyway.
“How do you know for sure?”
Phobia wanted to ask what was the point of being nice? What was the point of pretending and trying? Nothing changed. Hell, even when he tried to be nice, it backfired on him. When he tried to be considerate, he lost a friend. He wasn’t meant to have people. He knew that. He had learnt that a long time ago. It didn’t make it hurt less.
“What was big and scary for you?” Phobia asked instead. He wanted to think that her big and scary probably wasn’t anything but he also could sense she had a lot of deep fears. How she kept those fears from becoming angry, he didn’t know.
“I don’t know if there is a clear cut answer but sometimes it’s obvious. Like burning our IDs. Why do we need them? Why do we need to be labeled by them? Why do you need to be labelled by them? When is labelling anyone ever right?”
April watched him curiously, but responded honestly. “Waking up all alone, and not knowing who I was or where I was was pretty big and scary. And then coming here, and still not knowing anything. And being here alone, not knowing the past, or the present, or the future.” April just shrugged, maybe all of that didn’t seem big and scary to him.
April didn’t know the answers to his questions, but it did give her something to think about. A lot of people thought she was stupid, because she didn’t know things, but she still had opinions. She needed to figure out her opinion about these things, it seemed important.
It did seem big and scary to him. He hesitated and then nodded, “Coming here alone is scary,” he paused, “All that sounds scary. I suppose you and I handle our fears differently,” then he couldn’t help but smirk and add, “Then again, I am the living embodiment of fear.”
Phobia took her silence as that perhaps he said something wrong. Or perhaps it was just overwhelming. He slid his hands back into his pockets and said, “I’m not doing it today. Maybe I’m just pushing off something I have to do but not today.”
“What does that mean?” April was pretty sure she’d never heard the word embodiment, and she knew for a fact she had no idea what it meant. She was a little worried he would make fun of her for not knowing, but it was already out there now.
“Maybe… maybe I won’t go today then either. And then, when you go, I could go with you? If that’s okay. If not, then I can just go by myself sometime.” She was not opposed to putting it off for a bit.
“It’s one of my abilities. I can turn into what people are afraid of,” Phobia said with a shrug, “I also know what everyone is afraid of. Like that you are a little afraid of me.” Sorry was on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed it back. He was sorry but saying it was another thing. Sorry was a lot harder to say.
Phobia was surprised by the question. She wanted to go with him? Even though she thought he was mean? He wondered if he should encourage her to go and get it over with. He nodded, “Yeah, we can go together.”
April frowned again, but not because he said that he knew what she was afraid of. April believed she was pretty easy to figure out, so it wasn’t exactly a mystery. “How does that feel? To have people be afraid of you all the time?” She imagined it couldn’t feel very good.
When he agreed to let her go with him to turn in their IDs, April smiled brightly. “Really? Thanks.”
Phobia shrugged at the question. He was used to it. Though that didn’t make it easier, “It is what it is. I can’t do anything about it.” He wondered if that was another reason why he was mean. Probably. It didn’t matter.
He almost regretted agreeing when she smiled like that but he nodded and said, “Then we don’t need to go in there alone. Power in numbers.”
April just stared at him for a moment. “That’s a silly thing to say. Of course it is what it is. Everything is what it is. That doesn’t say anything about how it feels, whether you can do anything about it or not.” If he didn’t want to answer, that was fine, but a BS answer was not going to slide by April quite so easily.
She nodded to his statement, that sounded good. “Right! Thanks, again. I know you don’t really like me, but it’s nice of you to let me go with you.”
Phobia frowned. He supposed it didn’t say anything about how he felt about it but he couldn’t change it. He was always going to be made of fears, always know everyone’s fears and if he ever lost control, he would push everyone away. Even worse than he already was.
“It pisses me off,” Phobia said after a moment, “but I can’t do anything. I can’t do anything with that anger either.” He shrugged. The most he could do was find hope for others. Maybe others like her.
Phobia shook his head and said, “I don’t not like you. I don’t have anything against you.” He didn’t know why it bothered him that she thought he didn’t like her. He really was an asshole, wasn’t he?
Confused, April tilted her head and watched him curiously. Like a puppy. “Why can’t you do anything with it? Everyone gets angry sometimes, right? Other people must have a way to make it go away.” It sounded logical in her head, anyway.
“But you thought I was trying to trick people.” Which still really bothered her. Of all people, April was the least likely to try to trick someone, even for fun. It just felt like a bad idea, she couldn’t figure out why.
Phobia didn’t like the line of questioning and he crossed his arms in front of him, “It will go away when things change.” It was another BS answer but he didn’t know how else to answer. Why couldn’t he do anything with it? Because everything made him angry or upset; this island, the abilities, his mother was dead, his father was who knows where and nothing was ever going to change.
Now he remembered her and their interaction. He frowned, still feeling annoyed and said, “You introduced yourself saying you changed yourself. It was unnerving,” he shrugged, “Do you use it to trick people?”
Smirking, April put her hand on her hip, like a little kid annoyed. But, not a little kid at the moment. “And you just told me you scare people. But I didn’t automatically think you do it all the time, or on purpose, or to do bad things.” She wasn’t sure if that even mattered, but she felt like she’d been fair given his confession.
“No, I don’t use it to trick people. If people feel tricked, that’s their fault, I’m always honest about who I am.” That last bit, someone had told her. Or something close to it. That was what it translated to in her head, but for some reason she had a feeling it wouldn’t matter. He seemed very stubborn.
“Then what does it matter if I thought you were trying to trick people? If you are always honest, then I’m just an asshole and not really worthy of thought or opinion,” Phobia countered. She was right about one thing; he was very stubborn. “Either way, you are telling me now that you don’t and as long as I don’t see evidence to the contrary, I don’t have anything against you. I definitely don’t not like you.” Not unless she was out to hurt someone he cared about and he didn’t think she was. Then again, how did he know?
April hesitated a moment, but then responded honestly. “It matters because I don’t want people to think that I am a bad person. Or… maybe because I’m afraid maybe I am a bad person. Bad things happened to me, bad things don’t happen to people who do good things.” Shoving her hands down into her pockets, she looked at the ground in thought.
“Bad things happen to good people all the time,” Phobia said. He opened his mouth to say more but then remembered hope and rainbows. This was why he ditched the support group. He wasn’t good at this. He wasn’t supportive. He couldn’t help people. He knew this.
“I don’t know you,” Phobia said, “but nothing has told me you are a bad person. There are bad people on this island and you don’t seem like one of them. Besides, if you think you are a good person, isn’t that what matters?”
April thought about his words and then just shrugged. “I guess so. I hope so.” She was silent for another moment or too before shaking her head. “So, if you’re not going to go turn your ID in, what are you going to do now?”
Phobia wanted to say something else, something to convince her. He almost mentioned his mother but he stopped himself. What could he say? What could he say that mattered? Nothing. It felt like nothing.
Phobia shrugged at her question, “I’m not sure. What are you going to do?”
April shrugged and smiled a little. “Not go to a scary place, that’s for sure. Maybe go for a walk, want to come?”
Phobia hesitated. What else did he have planned? Go back to this room and hide there? Walk around himself? Go to the Marketplace and get annoyed there? It wasn’t a terrible idea to walk with her, right? He could always leave.
He nodded and said, “Sure. To somewhere not scary.” That didn’t really give them a lot of options.
Smiling brightly, April was clearly glad that he’d said yes. She didn’t like walking around alone, even during the daytime, and she liked talking to him. So far. She glanced around and then looked to him. “Which direction should we go?”
Phobia shrugged and pointed randomly, away from the Facility.
“That way? Just away from here,” Phobia said. He wondered if guards would start coming out before the 15th to force IDs on people. He could see that happening. He shook his head slightly. He really hated this place sometimes.
“So do you work on the island?” Phobia asked, trying not to be silent for once.
April followed along, falling into pace beside him as they walked. She shook her head no with a little shrug. “I came here straight from that place, and they didn’t really think I should work at first and then I just didn’t. I would like to though, I like to be helpful, even if I don’t know how to do a lot of things. I think most people wouldn’t want me to work because if I changed and got little that could be a problem. Do you work?”
“Who are they?” Phobia asked, “The government?” He made a face at the mention. He tried to swallow back a comment listening to the government was always a bad idea. He looked to her, “Got little?” He shook his head to her question, “I couldn’t when I first came here and then never tried again.”
April nodded, looking to the ground with a little frown. “Yeah, they brought me here from that other place. And they said I wasn’t ‘well enough’ to work. But I didn’t feel sick. I just get confused, but then they think I’m stupid so.” April just shrugged. “Why couldn’t you work?” She kind of avoided the question, figuring he might not like her answer and she was enjoying walking and talking with him. Why ruin it?
“Confused? How so?” Phobia asked. She didn’t seem confused now. A bit younger than she appeared but he realised this may not be her real appearance either. He wondered what was. Why did she choose this form today? He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I couldn’t control my abilities. I was constantly turning into whatever people were afraid of. Can’t exactly serve coffee when I’m spilling spiders down my hands.”
April wrinkled her nose at the idea of spiders on his hands, but it could be worse, she figured. Shrugging, April just looked to him. “Like, not knowing my name or my age or my birthday seems pretty confused. So I just made stuff up. But, if you can control your abilities better now, you could work if you wanted to, right? Do you want to?”
“You know now. Don’t you?” Phobia asked, “So you made up your own name? You have no idea?” That seemed sad. He, at least, knew his history, even if sometimes he wondered if he forgot his past. It wouldn’t hurt so much. Or maybe it would hurt more.
He shrugged, “I have better control. As long as my emotions are in check,” he paused, “I should. I just don’t want to. I don’t people well. As you can tell.”
April shook her head no. She knew no more about herself now than she did when she woke up in that morgue. She tried not to think about it, but it often snuck up on her. Like it was doing now. And she didn’t want to feel sad, so she pushed it away. “Yeah. But people say it fits me. So maybe if I wasn’t an April before, I am now?”
April didn’t understand the concept of not doing people well. “I think you’re doing fine.”
“I suppose what your definition of an April is. Springy or something?” he said with a shrug. He didn’t really understand that but if it made sense to her then who cared, right?
“I am an asshole, remember?” Phobia shot back at her, “I’m mean?”
April nodded with a little smile. “Yeah. Isn’t spring when all the new things happen? I like that, the idea of starting new. I kind of had to do that.” At his reply, April made a face. “I didn’t say that, I don’t like bad words. And just because you were mean once, that doesn’t make you mean all the time.”
Phobia nodded. He supposed that was accurate. He wanted to ask her how she could be so chipper when she knew nothing about herself. He didn’t want to ruin that hope she had for herself either.
“That must have been hard,” was all he said. That was better than nothing, right? When she spoke again he laughed and said, “I am mean all the time. Trust me.”
April just shrugged. It was hard, and scary, and sometimes she still had nightmares about it. But she never told anyone that last part. “It doesn’t have to be that way. You don’t have to be mean all the time if you don’t want to be. You get to decide how you feel and how you act, no one else.”
Safer that way, was on the tip of his tongue but he held back. He didn’t want to get into that. He didn’t want to talk about himself anymore. He didn’t want to keep thinking about why he acted like he did.
“You said get little before,” Phobia said, “What did you mean?” It was easier to turn the conversation back on her.
April noted that he didn’t say anything about her statement, but she wouldn’t push it. She said how she felt, and if he felt differently, that was fine. But she believed that he didn’t have to be mean if he didn’t want to be. She wrinkled her nose when the topic changed, but she still answered honestly. “Like, how I got kind of older before? I sometimes go little. Like a kid. Sometimes, if it’s really bad, I become a baby, but I think that only happened once. That I remember anyway.”
Phobia looked over at her and wondered if her ability came from the same spot his did. Not in the fear realm, no, that didn’t make sense, but being emotional. She changed her appearance, her age, at times. He changed physically too. Perhaps he tricked people too. He was getting lost in his head.
“Do you control it at all? Or do the changes happen when you are feeling emotional?” Phobia asked.
April shrugged in response, looking at the ground as she thought about it. “Yes and no? I can control certain things, like how I looked at the party. And I can change little things when I want to. Sometimes it doesn’t work the way I want it, but it’s not a bad thing. It’s bad when I change and then I get stuck. Then, maybe it’s emotional? The getting stuck part, I mean. I was stuck for like… half of last month. It was exhausting and scary and I didn’t like it at all.”
“Do you have anyone to help you? Try to learn to the changes?” Phobia asked. Perhaps she did and that is how she was learning. He assumed she was not going to the Facility for help. He remembered how she felt about that place.
“When did you get unstuck?” he asked.
April shook her head no. “I don’t know anyone who knows how to change. I also don’t want to be a bother to anyone, so I haven’t asked. They told me to go to training at that place, but when I went a few times there were scary guards and I didn’t like it so I didn’t go back. They got so mad at me when I changed someone by accident.” Shaking her head, she didn’t want to think about that. “A few days after that meeting thing at the coffee shop.”
“You changed someone by accident? You can use your abilities on others?” Phobia asked, surprised. That was an interesting trait and one he was curious about. He wondered how useful April’s abilities could be. He probably shouldn’t be thinking like that. He made a face when she mentioned the support group, “You went to that? Did it help at all?”
April nodded with a frown, almost whispering her response. “I made someone old. Really old. And then I got scared and ran and I don’t know what happened to him.” Preferring to think about the support group, she nodded. “It was kind of scary to go, but I am glad I did. I got to talk to my friend, and see other friends, and they had snacks!” Snacks made everything better.
Phobia wondered what happened to the person. He wondered if he could find out. Or if Remy could find out. He wondered if that would help April in anyway. He was silent for a few moments then asked, “Have you ever changed anyone again? Or just that one time?”
He glanced at her when she seemed eager about snacks. At least the group had some good, “Why was it scary?” He didn’t think either the coffee fairy or Thursday were scary.
“Just that one time. I can change other things, but I don’t do it a lot because I don’t want to mess things up.” Aging or changing herself was one thing, but everything else, it just seemed too risky. “And it was scary because I went alone, and I didn’t know who would be there or what would happen. But it was good and I am glad I went.”
“What other things?” Phobia asked. He shook his head, “If I’m asking too much, you can always tell me to shut up, you know.” He just wanted to understand her abilities better.
“I’m glad the group helped. I didn’t go but… I’m glad it can help others,” Phobia said.
April looked around as they walked. She moved off of the path to pick up a leaf that looked like it had just fallen from a tree. She held it carefully, concentrating and then handed it over to Phobia. It had changed from a leaf that was on the verge of death, to a fresh green leaf that looks as though it had just sprouted from a bud. She didn’t explain, she figured it was just easier to show than tell. “Why didn’t you go?”
Phobia took the leaf and studied it for a moment, “Is it an illusion? Or did you really just,” he paused, trying to think of a better word, “heal it?” Was she a healer as well? That would be helpful too.
He looked down, “I… I was having a hard time and I didn’t think I could do anything there.”
April wrinkled her nose when he asked about it being an illusion. Like a trick? Why did that keep coming up? After a moment of thought, she shook her head no. “No, I just made it younger. It was an old leaf, now it’s a young one.” If it was damaged, it would still be damaged, just in a younger form. And it would be as though it hadn’t aged to begin with, the whole cycle was beginning again. Starting over. Like spring, like April.
“Why would you have to do anything but just… be?”
Was that a type of healing? Or probably not but it was still interesting. He looked the leaf over. It was reborn. He wondered if it would revert back to how it was before, if the aging was temporary. He also wondered if the other person was permanently old now. He turned it over again and said, “That is a very cool ability and a very interesting one.”
“The problem with that… at the time, my being? Was being shadows in the corner of my room,” Phobia smirked, “No one would have known I was there anyway.”
April didn’t think it was very cool or interesting. And it felt bad at times because no one else seemed to be able to do anything like it. It was hard to find someone who understood. Which was why April had only been able to learn so much about her ability before she just stopped trying new things. “So then you definitely should have gone. Come to the next one?”
Phobia shrugged. He didn’t think he should. He didn’t really care for the coffee fairy and he had nothing against Thursday. He just didn’t think he was any good there. He was better at other things. It was best to just avoid all that.
“You going to keep going?” he asked.
April nodded and stopped walking to turn and face him. “Please come? You can sit with me. And we can have snacks. And you don’t have to do or say anything if you don’t want to. And if sometime tries to make you, I will tell them to go away, or you can scare them away, if you want to. But you don’t have to.” It sounded like a perfect idea to April, and the look of excitement on her face would be hard to say no to. She honestly had no idea how big eyes and a pretty smile could sway someone, if she did, she’d probably get a lot more out of people than she realized.
Phobia did not expect that look on her face, practically pleading him to agree and it made him want to say yes. Then say no rather quickly because he didn’t want to go and he didn’t like to be… whatever she was doing, using her feminine wiles against him. Then yes because he should be there and she was asking and offering to tell people to go away for him? That was unusual.
“Maybe,” Phobia replied in such a way that it was pretty clear his maybe was a yes but he just didn’t want to say yes.
April bounced on her heels and clapped in excitement before impulsively hugging Phobia. “Maybe is closer to yes than to no. Thank you!” She stepped back from the hug and then bit her lip. She wasn’t supposed to do that. Hugging people without permission wasn’t nice. “I’m sorry, I just got excited.”
Phobia froze when she hugged him. People didn’t hug him. Ashe hugged him but that wasn’t very common and he still froze for a moment when Ashe hugged him. He didn’t have a moment to react before she stepped back and apologised. She seemed to like his company and that was confusing.
“You don’t need to apologise,” Phobia said after a moment, “It just surprised me. And I guess that means you don’t have to walk alone to the meetings then.”
April beamed, glad that he wasn’t mad at her for the hug. She didn’t really connect the dots on that last bit though. “What do you mean? Who is going to walk with me?”
Phobia frowned and replied, “If you are going to drag me to the meeting, I might as well walk with you.” Yes, he would phrase that he still didn’t want to go and she would be dragging him kicking and screaming, but he was still going to go. He’d be there.
Laughing, April just shook her head. “I’m not going to drag you. If you really really really don’t want to go, you don’t have to. But I think you should, and I would like for you to come with me. It’s your choice. But I can give you candy, if that helps.”
“Candy?” Phobia repeated, “You are bribing me with candy?” He looked at her. He should go. He should want to go. Maybe if he went, he could gain some respect back. He was pretty sure that was a lost cause.
Blinking, April nodded. “Do you not like candy?” She thought everyone liked candy, or at least everyone she’d met so far that she could remember. “And it’s not a bribe, it’s… a bonus? I would give you candy either way. If you like candy. What about cookies?”
“I like candy,” Phobia said. He was admitting he liked something. He hadn’t done that before. April was throwing him off. It was discombobulating. “I don’t… sweets a lot. That’s not the point. Do you candy a lot?”
April just shrugged and nodded. “I know it’s not good for you, but I like anything with sugar. It’s so good. And… I don’t know why, but I feel like maybe I wasn’t allowed to have things like candy and cookies and yummy things like that before, so I have it all the time now. It’s probably bad, but no one here tells me not to. I should probably not have as much, right?” She honestly was asking him if she should stop eating so much candy and cookies. Why? Why not, he seemed like he would give his honest opinion about it.
“You’re an adult. You can have whatever you want,” Phobia said. Was that the best answer to give? Probably not. Should he be the one to encourage her to eat better? Maybe. She had to have other friends who could give better advice.
“Do you have it all the time? Every meal? Or do you eat other stuff too?”
“I eat other things too. I don’t know how to make too many things. But I can make mac and cheese, and sandwiches, and cereal. And when I go to eat at the diner, I have healthy things like salad and vegetables and chicken.” So it wasn’t like she was living on sugar alone, thankfully. But it was far more tempting to get candy and cookies when she chose her groceries than to pick out all fruits and vegetables and proteins.
“Then you are probably fine,” Phobia said. He shrugged and added, “When I first got here, I ate pretty bad too. I didn’t know how to cook for myself. I eventually figured out how to balance meals and you will too. Or figure out how to cook meals with candy in them. Both are good.”
April’s eyes widened. “Meals with candy in them? Is that really a thing?” If it was, April wanted to learn how to do that immediately.
“You can bake with candy, why not cook?” He shrugged. He didn’t really know. He had never tried it. “Could always ask Ashe. He’s a good cook. He would know.”
April nodded, trusting Phobia’s advice. “I don’t think I know Ashe, but I like to eat, a lot, so I should probably meet someone who knows how to cook good things.”
“He’s my roommate,” Phobia said. He hesitated before adding, “He’s a good man. Resilient. I’m sure you’d like him.” Maybe he should invite her over one day but that felt like a lot. This felt like a lot of social. He tugged his sleeves over his hands.
April smiled. She liked to meet people, especially those others spoke highly of. “Is it nice to have a roommate?” April got lonely sometimes, but she didn’t really think anyone else would want to share a place with her.
Phobia was quiet for a few moments as they walked. He nodded and said, “It is. He’s… It’s nice.” He couldn’t really explain his friendship with Ashe. Ashe really shouldn’t be his friend. He didn’t do anything to deserve his friendship but Ashe didn’t give up. Even after the last freak out, hide out, Ashe didn’t give up on him. He was lucky.
April listened as he spoke, watching him curiously. After a moment, she just smiled. “Well, then I think you’re wrong. About what you said before. If you’re such an… a-hole, then such a good guy like that wouldn’t want to be your roommate.”
Phobia was pretty sure April was wrong. He had no idea why Ashe never gave up on him. He had no idea why Ashe kept trying. He was glad that he did. He was glad he was there. He was pretty sure he would never be able to show Ashe how grateful he was.
“You don’t know me. How do know you’re wrong?” he asked softly.
April just smiled again. “It’s just a feeling I have. Besides, all the bad people I’ve met never thought they were actually bad. So, I’d rather think that you’re wrong. Until you prove otherwise.”
“Just like crazy people never think they are crazy?” Phobia countered. He looked at her again, “I hope you are right. About not being bad,” he looked at her, “How are you so… positive?”
April thought carefully about the question before answering quietly. “Because being sad all the time makes it harder. Thinking about the bad things and wondering about all the things I don’t know is scary and that makes everything else here seem so much worse. But, if I try to focus on good and happy things, it makes everything feel a little bit easier. Like I can do it, like everything might be okay someday. Because if everything isn’t going to be okay eventually, then what’s the point? There’s got to be a point, right?”
Phobia fell silent. He didn’t want to argue with her. Maybe she would have an okay one day. He hoped she had an okay one day and it was sooner than later. He didn’t have an okay. So what was the point? Because others needed an okay, even if he didn’t.
“That’s a good philosophy to have,” Phobia said instead. She didn’t need to brought down by his own thoughts.
April watched him quietly for a few paces before speaking up again. “But you don’t think the same way, do you? Not that you have to, or anything.” Chewing on her bottom lip, she hesitated before asking, “what makes you happy?”
Phobia shook his head, not answering the first question. He did not feel that way at all, at least not about himself. He tugged on his sleeves again. Her next question gave him pause. Being with the Faction made him happy, knowing that he could do something, that he could help someone else. He couldn’t say that.
“I like to write,” Phobia answered. That was easy enough.
Surprised by his response, April smiled brightly. “You do? What kind of things do you write?”
“Fiction. Short stories,” Phobia said with another shrug. He hadn’t been writing lately but that wasn’t necessarily unusual. He went through periods of wanting to write and not picking up a pen. Or his computer. Though he did play the role of aspiring writer when he went to Faction meetings.
“Really? That’s so cool. You must be super smart.” She was tempted to ask if she could read something he wrote, but that seemed like a bad idea. He would probably say no. Also, April wasn’t the best at reading, and that was embarrassing, so she didn’t really want people to know that.
Phobia shook his head and said, “Not really. I don’t even know if it’s any good. It’s just for me anyway.” Or not it was. He used to want to be a writer but it wasn’t like he was going to get a publishing deal here. Tales from the Land of Misfit Toys. Nice ring but wasn’t going to happen.
“Do you ever let anyone read it? I bet your roommate would read it and tell you if it’s good or not. If you wanted to know someone’s opinion. I bet it’s probably good though. Did you always write? Or just after coming here?” April liked learning more about people, but she’d found that a lot of people didn’t like talking about their lives before the island. She sort of understood, but at least they could remember for themselves, even if they didn’t tell other people about it.
“I used to write a lot more before here,” Phobia said, “I thought I could become a novelist or something.” Would he let anyone read what he wrote now? Maybe but that seemed to be a part of another life. Writing wasn’t important here. It meant nothing so why bother sharing it?
Confused, April furrowed her brow. “Why can’t you still do that here? I mean, I know we can’t really like… talk to people off the island. But there’s plenty of people here. And lots of us have nothing much to do. I bet a lot of people would like to have new things to read. You could do like… little bits of stories each week, and people can follow and keep up with what’s going on in your stories. Kind of like a TV show, but on paper?” That was probably a dumb idea, but she already put it out there.
Phobia looked at April. She was better at this hope thing. He tugged on his sleeves again and wondered if people would be interested. Then wondered if other people had talents like that that they would want to share. Musicians and artists. If they could share the things that made them happy, maybe it would help to spread hope and whatever with people. A different medium than what the support group would do. Bake sales.
“I never thought of it,” Phobia said, focusing back on their conversation, “I just assume people don’t want to read it. What about you? Do you have a creative outlet?”
“I would read it. I’m not very good at reading, but I would try.” April frowned at herself for admitting that. But she wanted to be encouraging, so, if it made her feel a little bad about herself in the process then that was okay. “I don’t know. I never really tried anything creative.”
“Do you have trouble reading?” Phobia asked, not unkindly. He used to help elementary school kids who had trouble reading before. He hadn’t minded doing that. He liked seeing that moment when reading no longer became difficult or a chore but suddenly fun and amazing.
“We should change that. My mother always thought everyone should have a creative outlet,” Phobia said.
Biting her lower lip hard, April nodded once. She was quiet for a long time, and walked a little slower now. “I don’t think I was very smart, before whatever happened. I don’t think I was very good at school things. I don’t know why, it’s just a feeling. It makes me feel dumb, I don’t like to feel dumb.”
April hesitantly looked to Phobia with a blink. “How do we change it? There’s lots of creative things people can do, how do you know what to try?”
“I’ll help,” Phobia said, “I used to help kids read and reading is one of those things that everyone should love to do.” Maybe they could do that instead of going to the support meetings, except if they did good for April he wasn’t going to take that away. He should be supporting those support meetings.
“Try everything,” Phobia replied, “Drawing, writing, music, whatever. Something will resonate with you.”
April didn’t know what to say or how to respond. Sure, plenty of people had been nice to her, but offering to help her read was a big deal. A very big deal. She was speechless, which didn’t happen too often to April. She just smiled and nodded a little in response, still overwhelmed by his kindness.
If Phobia was a different person, he would have put his arm around her and given her a hug. He wasn’t and he didn’t. He didn’t need to bring attention to the fact that she was speechless. He hadn’t done anything big anyway. It wasn’t like he had started to help. Or he had changed anything. He just offered. So he didn’t say anything, giving her the moment to find her voice again.
It took a moment, but she finally found something to say. “Thank you. That’s really nice of you. I appreciate it a lot.”
Phobia shrugged and said, “It’s not a big deal. We’ll get together later and figure out what stage you’re at and where to go from there.” He couldn’t help but think that this may be good for him too; give him something else to focus on other than everything that was going on here. It may even remind him a bit of Before, which wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“Okay! That sounds good. And I can bake cookies, as a thank you.” April knew she wasn’t not going to be very easy to work with, even if she tried her best. So, maybe these were bribe-cookies, but cookies still tasted the same, so hopefully it would be a good thing.
“Sugar cookies go a long way. Just saying,” Phobia replied. He didn’t need cookies as a thank you but she seemed like the time to be insistent on that sort of thing so he wasn’t going to turn them down. Cookies were cookies, after all.