A new start. A new town, new people, new home.
Everything that honestly scares me. Other than having my powers taken away, obviously.
Being the social retard and general failure that I am, I find it really hard to make new friends, unless they're a junkie. Because you don't have to talk to them, you just keep them high and hit them if they annoy you.
I don't like new places because I make a really bad first impression - yes, worse than Benny's first impression - and I know it. But I don't know how to make it a good first impression. Mind you, I've never seen the point, because there's only a matter of time before the real me, the violent drug addict me, will shine through and try to hit you, even if you ‘l' word me.
Gemme half drags me across the bridge to the other platform and although I can understand her enthusiasm for a new start and everything, I'm not completely sold on the idea. Then again, it's not like it's gonna be easy to stay, now that she's sold her house and the junkies are probably destroying the apartment.
"Why Newberry?" I ask after a while, sitting on the end of the bench with a smoke.
"Dunno, it's the next train in this station." She shrugs.
"It's not much longer til the train to Burton though," I mutter. I know people there, at least.
"Why go back to somewhere you know?" This is ridiculous.
"Why not? You don't know it. Isn't that enough?" I sound like a whiny little kid. Urgh. Y'know, these smokes aren't doing all that much to un-scare me about moving to somewhere I don't know.
"But neither of us have... you know what? You win." She says in a defeated tone. I look round at her, surprised.
"Now I just feel bad." I sigh and rest my chin on my hand, tapping my cheekbone with one finger. Why does everything have to bring up such conflicting emotions in me? Like Gemme, hate Gemme, want to go, want to stay, white walls, no walls. I hate my brain. That one doesn't need debating.
"Don't. If I'm with you it will all be okay..." She pauses a moment and bursts out laughing, "God that was cheesy." I nod and smile.
"Yeah, it was."
"True, though." Is it? I don't think I'll ever understand that, really.
"As long as I don't lose it again." I say through gritted teeth, flicking my cigarette onto the track, watching it bounce across the metal and come to a rest on one of the wooden beams. I put my head in my hands, pushing them up over my face and through my hair as if it will push my temper out of me.
"The only thing that bothered me is that you ignored me afterwards." Uh...
"I really hope you're joking, Gemme." I say. How can you not be bothered by that? "I know I asked for patience, but I didn't mean put up with me being a violent prick."
"Don't you think if it bothered me so much I would have delved into your mind and stopped you from doing it?" she sighs. "I'm not joking, I've had worse."
"Yeah, but what if I hadn't stopped myself, huh? What if I hadn't been able to make myself walk away?" It doesn't matter how bad you've had it before, it doesn't mean you should have anything like that now.
"You'd have killed me, I would have healed got up and come to find you." You're insane, Gemme. I'm about to tell her that, but the train comes roaring around the corner, coming to a halt before us. I glance at her.
"This one, or the other one?" I ask as the doors hiss open.
"Why wait?" she asks and I shrug, picking up my bag. New start, right? People do it all the time. Can't be that hard, surely?
"After you," I mutter, gesturing to the door.