The whole room flooded with burning, bright light.
Jasper sealed his eyes shut away from it, and fell against the shelves, before pushing the crutches back to balance himself, skidding anyway. He whipped his head over to Emmet and saw him, stood above the man in the suit with a giant block covered over with a plastic sheet.
What had Jasper done? What had he driven Emmet to do? How had he let this happen?
This was his fault.
He gulped and pulled himself back up to standing and watched Emmet pant and reach up to pull the time machine down. He ripped off the over and cradled it to his chest.
Jasper made his way over and reached out towards the device stroking. His vision blurred and choked down a sob. The surface on the top was scratched all over, while the face remained unchanged, and the exact same, despite its delicacy.
It was in Emmet's hands. Emmet, who had just battered a man for him.
This was his fault.
He had done this. He
When Jasper opened his eyes, he saw he was falling. He saw the brown muddy land rise up, as the wind pulled his hair and clothes upwards. A scream was stuck in his throat, choking him. He couldn't breath.The sky was a dull, grey above him, blanketing the entire land, and the wind was cold, slapping him, and raking its sharp, whipping nails down his bones, shocking them, from the inside out. He was damp, from sweat and drizzle, letting the cold hands of the wind grab onto him further, wrapping its arms around the exposed, gaunt skin of his torso and arms.Jasper could barely hold onto the time machine, pressing its harsh edges into his soft, fleshy body, feeling more heat being sapped away from him.It was so, so cold.His fingers went numb, and he lost control of all his limbs.Jasper watched the brown walls of a gorge fly up past him, on both his left and right sides, trapping him, encasing him within this cold prison.He hit the ground.
"So, how are you feeling? We found you lying down outside unconscious,"There was suddenly a lady in front of Jasper. She had the same pale skin and almost black hair of the little girl. Oh, the lady was the little girl's mother.Jasper blinked. "Did you see another man with me, wearing a lab coat with a shirt and tie underneath?"His voice sounded raspy, and he wasn't expecting to sound so broken, and pleading when speaking. Jasper blinked again, his vision suddenly becoming more blurry. He moved his head to the side, and back, watching the outlines, and colours of the woman stretch out, and wobble."No. You were on your own. Now, I need you to answer my question: How are you feeling?"The woman sounded concerned, and kept one arm on the little girl, who was fiddling with the edge of the pink blanket. Wait, this would be her blanket. Jasper was in her room right now, lying down on her bed.He blinked again, and felt two scorching, wet, itch
"Things will get better. Ending your life isn't the answer. There are people who care for you, and things will get better. You can stay with us and heal. We're willing to help you."The lady held onto his cold, cold hands, wrapping them in warmth, warmth that travelled up his arms, embalming them in comfort and soothing his muscles, striking him in the chest, softly, brushing his fleshy, bloody heart with a feather.Jasper's eyes scrunched up, his brows furrowing. He wasn't trying to commit suicide. He was just trying to save Emm-, no, the people who he didn't deserve.He closed his eyes, and remembered the giant, enclosing, brown walls that rose above him, as he fell to the ground, from the grey, grey sky. Just because it may have looked like he had jumped from a height to end his life, didn't mean that he was actually jumping from a height to end his life.He wasn't suicidal.He wasn't.His face felt as if ice
"Lebensmüde. It means tired of life. I'm going to get you some food."Jasper wanted Emmet. He wanted Emmet. But he had left Emmet behind. He had betrayed Emmet. He didn't deserve Emmet.What did Red_Two want? What did Red_Two really want?Jasper thought back to when he was Red_Two and thought back to the dead man in front of the library.He remembered back the pool of blood, reaching out to him, rolling along the grey floors towards his legs, whipping itself up to try its hardest to wrap itself around his hands. It was a crying, sobbing, pathetic mess. It was pitiful and lonely, trying to find company wherever it could.It was lonely and small, begging for any small scrap of love and acceptance and affection. That blood was a small wish. It wanted to not be alone in it's final moments. It wanted to have the comfort that it was human, in a world that treated it less than human. It needed to know that it had lived,
It was the little girl.Jasper miserably knew that he could easily extract when and where he was from her, but he felt sick to his stomach. Her eyes maybe dark, but she looked too much like him, from her dark hair and sharp slant of her nose.It hurt his eyes and chest to look at her. If he gave her twenty years, she would look like his twin, save for the eyes. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut, and hope that she would just leave."I've got your cornflakes," she announced from the side of the bed, defiant.The silence was deafening as he pretended to stay asleep, praying that she would go away. There were no footsteps and only the sound of breathing.Jasper fought against every instinct to stop his eyes from twitching, relishing in the latent pain of his wounds, grounding him, keeping him from floating off into the recesses of his mind and to forge
The little girl was precise in her movements, her eyes sharp and hands steady, unshaking. She had placed herself down on the bed, on top of her pink blanket, and looked down upon Jasper as he slowly ate, feeling every twinge in his jaw as he chewed the rapidly softening food.They did not speak to each other, as they did before, and Jasper distantly wondered if he was going to even be able to finish the bowl with the way he was feeling.The girl's face did not change, as she fed him, single-mindedly dedicated to her task, but as her legs began shift, and she started to rock forwards and backwards, swirling the spoon in the milk while she waited for him to chew, Jasper could tell she was getting bored."What's your name?" he asked, attempting to alleviate the awkward silence.Back before when he was like this, he remembered staunchly trying to push everyone away from him, crying and screaming, a
Lila eventually stood up and left the room. The bowl was eventually taken from the dresser and out of the room. The sun, visible through his visible, eventually dropped below the horizon, taking all its light out of the room.Lila eventually stood up and left the room. The bowl was eventually taken from the dresser and out of the room. The sun, visible through his visible, eventually dropped below the horizon, taking all its light out of the room.But by then, Jasper had fallen asleep, his consciousness floating into the land of dreams, and out of the room.All he could see was Emmet. He saw Emmet's swirling oceanic hues. He saw Emmet's dark, long tresses. He saw the defined slope of his nose, and angular cheek bones. He was his pale, gleaming skin. He saw Emmet smiling at him, laughing, and reaching out towards him to bring him into a hug.Jasper opened his eyes, and looked up to the white ceiling.
Fantasy was comfortable and a way to escape the dread of everyday life. It was easier to think you were strong and powerful, than admitting that you were weak. It was so much easier to pretend that you were some sort of lone wolf warrior than a weak man, bruised and broken after so many failed ventures, trying to uselessly appease your own bruised and broken ego all the while.That's the truth, isn't it.Life is hard, and its painful to face that suffering head on. You need to be able to look away, to explain that suffering away, to belittle it, to pretend that it isn't there, just so you can justify your own inaction.So why do we enjoy tragedy and sadness so much?Why are you even here?It can't be the world building considering its so shoddily done by all metrics, only really tossed in when the author remembers that she needs to explain herself. It can't be the characters. They're pretty much all author