# Bad Apple Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Fade to Black
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“None of this matters…”
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At least that's what I wish I could believe. I want to believe that this is nothing more than a setback, a bump in the road, a trial from Raptor Jesus or whatever god is out there as a way to make me stronger.
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That's what I've been told, at least through various message boards, grief support sites. Hell, I've even tried Icelandic birdhouse crafting forums, anything to try and make sense of this hell that I've found myself in. But all I see is more hollow and empty words that don't dull the pain.
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“Stay with me here, please..”
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“Don’t leave me alone.”
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The last words I ever said to them.
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Those words etched in my mind, echoing through my head like a symphony of torment. Of how I failed them, how I let them die, how I let everyone die, all because I was a shitty boyfriend.
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I should have died that day.
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Growing weary of the disingenuous bullshit laced across my screen, my hand moves to turn off my monitor. And across the screen's darkness, I see myself. My face being completely devoid of color from not leaving my shithole apartment for a week, bloodshot eyes from being awake for two days straight, and to my right a silhouette staring blankly at me.
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Fang?
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I get up and turn around in shock, only to be greeted by the front door and the pile of garbage bags and empty bottles that surround it.
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"Goddamn it, not again." I groan.
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Haunted by the apparitions of my past sins, reminding me of my failure.
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In a moment of stunned silence, I gaze across the room blankly before snapping back to my senses. Well, now that I'm up and about, I should probably find some more ways to occupy myself.
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I rise from my chair rather awkwardly, thanks to the brace on my left leg. I was finally able to ditch the crutch a couple of weeks ago. Although the doctors say my leg didn't heal as quickly as they thought it would, my wounded leg is the least of my troubles however.
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I make my way over to the kitchen with a slight limp, almost tripping over the garbage that roamed the floors of my apartment like a herd of sheep. It's not like I'm having guests anytime soon, so who gives a shit if it's messy?
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Entering the kitchen, I grab a jar of instant coffee and a mug from the counter. Dollar store brand, but it does the job. I open the jar and pour the contents into the cup before mixing it with hot water from the sink.
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I stir the unholy concoction with my finger to mix the contents. One of the upsides of being too poor to afford a kettle is not having to worry about burning yourself with coffee. I begin to take a sip of the lukewarm beverage to be greeted with the taste reminiscent of dirt, unnaturally sweet chemicals, and a familiar hint of what could be described as coffee? It'll have to do.
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I only get so much money from disability checks after the incident. It's pretty much my only income at this point, my grades back at Volcano High weren't good enough to get me into any college. Plus, the army didn't want a 'shell-shocked cripple' under their banner, leaving me with the glamorous choice of begging the government for scraps. After that, my parents more or less threw me away.
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"You got a second chance, and this is what you did with it? What a waste.." My father’s words echo through my head.
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So much for having loving parents, putting me in this dumpster of an apartment in the shittiest part of town. Barely even talking to me throughout the school year. And neither of them visited their son, who was in a coma after getting shot.
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Forgotten and abandoned by those around me, a fitting punishment for someone like me, a loser, someone who treated the few that cared about me like trash, an asshole, someone whose ignorance to my girlfriend's pain caused a massacre.
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I deserve all of this
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I need to take my mind off this. Setting down the coffee mug, I move towards one of the cabinets and grab one of the pill bottles labelled "adderall." Still, before I can open the bottle and embrace it's sweet and comforting energy, I feel a distinct lack of weight from the bottle.
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My hand slumps on the counter, and I let it roll down to the floor and join the collection of trash that occupies my floor.
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Raptor Jesus help me. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to go out for at least another couple of days. I know the pharmacy isn't that far. There's always the possibility of my leg giving out on me again, someone robbing me, or god knows what else.
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Despite it all, I still would rather any of those things happen to me than falling asleep again, and be forced to relive that day again and again…
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With my mind made up, I grab my wallet, a pack of cigarettes, my keys, and I head to the door, careful not to trip over any more trash. My keys enter the front door lock, making a mechanical sound with a turn to the left. However, what I saw when I turned around caused me to jump back against my door.
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What I see is Naomi staring at me with arms folded, shooting me a venomous look, the same look she showed me right before the prom at Fang’s house.
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'She's not real. She's dead, nothing more than a nightmare.'
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“How pathetic.” she spits out. “Bad enough, you messed things up with Fang and got us all killed, and this is what you choose to do with your life?”
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I turn away from her and walk towards the exit. 'She's all in your head. It's all bullshit.'
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"No, what's bullshit is how you managed to fuck up a relationship that was practically handed to you after every string I pulled." 'Naomi' continues to rant.
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“How are you this much of a loser?!”
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I've had enough of this shit. I turn around and raise an accusing finger towards her.
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"…What the hell do you know, Naomi?! You're dead!"
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She sneers at my angry response and takes a few steps forward.
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"I know that if you stayed at that trashy little school you crawled out of, maybe Naser and I would still be alive." She taunts me. "Maybe Fang would still be alive too."
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She's right. Deep down, I know she's right.
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However, I can't help but clench my fist at her callousness as the rage bubbles inside me towards a figment of my own imagination.
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"Get. Out. Of. My. Head. You peach-colored cunt." I say, my voice dripping with vitriol and rage.
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She chuckles at that statement and proceeds to reach into her pocket. I can tell she's gripping something from the outline of her hand in her pockets.
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"Struck a nerve did I?" she says cheekily. "This gives me an idea."
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She pulls the object from her pockets, revealing it to be a revolver, the same revolver that… Oh no.
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"Let's make it easier for you. Do you think you'll stop it this time?" The apparition faces me with a sadistic smirk as she lifts the pistol and presses it against the side of her head, cocking the hammer.
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I can't take this anymore. I turn away and continue to march towards the end of the hallway while ignoring 'Naomi's taunts.
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"Never forget… You did this. And you deserve everything else coming to you." 'Naomi,' growls before her words are overshadowed by a more powerful sound.
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BANG
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Instinctively, I turn around but see no body, the walls painted with a dull grey rather than the brains of my former classmate. Just the empty hallway of my apartment's floor.
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‘It’s all in your head. It’s all in your head. It’s all in your head.’ I reassure myself as I continue to make my way towards the exit.
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…
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After a good 15 minutes of walking through the twilight-dimmed streets of Skin Row, I finally made it to the pharmacy,
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The walk was surprisingly less arduous than I thought it was. I was worried my leg would completely btfo if I were to walk this long, and the streets seem rather tame, making me feel less stressed about forgetting my pocket knife at home. I thank my better instincts for going when it wasn't completely dark and my leg, no one would jump a cripple, right?
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…I dunno maybe? Enough of that.
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"DVS Pharmacy" with the lights for the V burnt out. I take a look at the pharmacy's dinged-up sign before entering. Lovely.
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Entering the establishment, I was greeted with a messy and disheveled-looking pharmacy. The shelves are rather disorganized and missing a lot of stock. The sound of whatever zoomer garbage is currently most popular on the radio, echoing throughout the store.
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There's nothing else I need here other than Adderall, so I don't really give a shit what the store looks like. I just need to get my meds and get out of here.
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When I make my way to the counter, I see the "pharmacist" casually scrolling through her phone while sitting on a chair with her feet kicked up on the counter. She's a bright yellow Raptor who looks a few years older than me, I think.
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'This isn't my usual hookup. Where the hell is he?' I think to myself
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"Hmm, someone say something?" she chirps rather lazily.
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Of course, I was fucking mumbling.
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"A-ah, I'm here to pick up my prescription for Adderall?" I reply to her while caught off guard by my loose lips.
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She replies with a sigh, gets up from her chair, grabs the clipboard sitting on one of the desks beside, and looks at its contents.
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“Name?”
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“Anon Mous”
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I can see the gears turn in her head as she scans the clipboard before letting out an annoyed sigh.
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“And what is the purpose of your prescription?”
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What the fuck? The previous pharmacist didn't ask me that shit. Why are they now suddenly interested? I try to think of a good reason.
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"I uhh need it to help with my narcolepsy. It's getting in the way of my studies." I say to the pharmacist.
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Spaghetti spillage averted. Or so I thought as the “pharmacist” shoots me a condescending look at my response, did she see through me.
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"Uh-huh, and is that why it says this is your fourth visit this month? Or how your 'narcolepsy' isn't listed here?"
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Shit… I didn't expect her to be this perceptive, considering just a minute ago she was in her own world browsing SnootTube or Rex Rox or whatever "normal" people waste their time these days. She's now staring with a furrowed brow, waiting to hear my answer.
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"I-uh- they said for me to come today, though." I choke out.
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The perturbed raptor seems unamused with my answer, briefly glancing at the clipboard before returning her glare.
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“See, what I think is going on here is you’re making shit up as a way to make sure you get your fix, seeing as how much you’ve been here. So tell you what, why don’t you come back once you get a handle on things, okay junkie?”
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My face goes red at that response. What the hell is her problem? Fucking piss-stained meteor dodger.
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Her face's color matches mine as her only glare intensifies, bordering on rage.
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Of course I fucking mumbled that.
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“So, is there anything else I can help you with, or are you just gonna continue wasting my time?” the raptor clerk spitefully groaned
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Not so nice being at the receiving end of that, huh? I'm not really in any position to be picking fights right now. I can always find another place to get more meds. I turn around and walk towards the exit while flashing her the bird on my way out, fucking bitch.
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My thoughts are interrupted as an unknown force rams into me from the right, knocking me against the glass door.
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Fuck it, having an arm injury could be fun too.
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"Ahh! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" a frantic yet gentle feminine voice calls out to me. Why does it sound familiar..
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Lifting myself up using the door as support while posting most of my weight on my non-crippled leg and I turn to investigate my mysterious 'attacker'.
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“A-anon?”
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Wait…
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“Stella?”
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I would recognize that Stegosaurus anywhere, lime green skin, verdant hair buns, wearing what appears to be a FMA styled t-shirt and a rather plain pair of shorts and white sneakers, glad to see she's gotten better taste in anime at least.
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It's the first time I've seen her since high school, she might have been a little odd, but she was one of the few people at Volcano High that was genuinely friendly to me, in her own unique way. And I called her weird. Why was I such a dick to her?
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Although when I look at her now I don't see the socially awkward yet bubbly stego, I see only a girl who looks as if she's just seen a ghost, a reminder from a painful past, the green in her face turning white as she's paralyzed with fear.
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“I-I…” she says slowly while backing away.
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Then she quickly turns around and proceeds to run in the direction behind her away from me.
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Why do I have this effect on women? More importantly, why did she become THAT scared when she saw me for the first time in months? We only talked a handful of times. It's not like I really know her that well to make that big of an impression on her.
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Still, Stella would be one of the closest things I could consider to be an ‘old friend’ at this point, and I would’ve hoped our reunion would be less depressing. Not that I’m surprised.
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My inner monologue is cut short by the obnoxious laughter emerging from the store. I turn to see the cunt of a pharmacist pointing and laughing at me.
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Have I really been standing here that long? Well, I'm done here anyway, good riddance.
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I let go of the door and continued the long and perilous journey back to my apartment. My apartment where I can relax without any Adderall and risk falling asleep again.
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Fuck my life.
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On my way home, I find myself alone with my thoughts while passing all the roughed up buildings and graffiti-painted signs that I previously made myself familiar with.
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Many things have been clouding my mind, my financial situation, trying to find a source to get my pills from, trying to make it home without getting murdered, but why is it that bumping into someone I barely knew is fucking with my head the most?
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I haven't really given much thought to friendship after high school. I always find a way to fuck everything one way or another, and after what happened, what I caused to happen, no, never again.
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After all, Stella's reaction proves everything I've worried about reconnecting with 'friends'. Rosa probably feels the same way, same with Reed and Trish, especially her.
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"Never forget… You did this. And you deserve everything else coming to you."
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She's absolutely right. Not that I have any shits left to give at least.
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FUCK!
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My pity party comes to an abrupt and violent stop as I feel the brutal force of a blunt object smashing into my leg, my CRIPPLED leg.
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A blunt object comes towards my leg again, hitting the leg brace and filling the air with the sound of metal striking metal, along with whatever's left of my leg brace hitting the ground in scattered pieces.
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The pain is so intense, my leg feels like it's been lit on fire. I fall on my back where I can briefly catch a glimpse of my attacker, a menacing figure of short stature in a large grey coat and their face obscured with a paintball mask. I can only stare at them in shock as they move close, their gloved hands gripping the lightly bloodstained bat.
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Behind the obscure figure, I see - Fang standing behind them?!
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Leering at me with a cold and malevolent stare.
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“W-wait-”
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“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” The figure spits at me with a muffled voice as she interrupts my cries with a swift kick to the face knocking me out.
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…
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*THUD* *THUD*
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“-ie! Skinnie Piece of Shit-”
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*THUD*
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...
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“¡OYE! ¡ALÉJATE DE ÉL!”
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...
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"Don't just stand there! Help me get him to the van, Vamos!-"
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...
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I finally return to my senses after fading in and out of consciousness. My eyes are greeted by the sight of a car seat to my right? Wait, when did I get in a car?!
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I shoot up before a surge of pain comes out of my abdomen, causing me to groan in response.
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“Oye, está bien An-on!”
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I look in the direction of the voice, and I see none other than Rosa in the driver's seat, looking over at me with a concerned expression.
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Wait… When did she?
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“Rosa? What are you-” I pause. “What happened?”
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Damn, it hurts to talk.
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Before responding, Rosa pulls the car over to the side of the road.
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She leans slightly out of her seat to face me, her attire consisting of a dark orange hoodie with some sort of orange flower printed across the chest, thanks to my lack of botany knowledge I don’t know which flower it is.
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"Gracias Raptor Jesus, we found you. You were getting beat up by some matón on the street near the pharmacy where Stella found you!” Rosa explains to me.
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"Wait- Stella?" I inquire.
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Rosa responds by nodding over to the car seat next to her. This gesture prompts me to shift my position so I can get a view of the car seat. There I see Stella curled up in a ball in the passenger seat, arms around her knees, and buried in her lap as she quietly sobs.
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"H-hi Anon, I'm-" She tries to say with a shaky and muffled voice before bursting back into tears.
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Wait, why is she crying? Did I really scare her that much earlier?
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“Did I-”
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"¡No te preocupes! It's not anything you did, Stella has been…" Her voice trailing off as if she's trying to figure how to deliver her following words with tact, she looks at Stella with sympathy before returning her gaze to me.
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“She’s been through a lot of pain since that day happened.” I know instantly what ‘day’ she’s referring to, how one bad day and one shitty boyfriend caused innocent people to die and god knows how many lives destroyed.
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"It looks like you've been through a lot of pain yourself, no?" Rosa's words breaking me out of my brief contemplation she says while gazing towards my leg, that suddenly has a blood stained bandage, with my leg brace nowhere to be found. Just my fucking luck, those cost more than what I get in a month. My gaze returns to the bandage covering my leg.
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“Mi madre gave me a first aid kit to keep in my car, so I did what I could to stop the bleeding.” Rosa shifts her focus towards me again.
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“Who did this to you An-on? What kind of person would attack an injured chico and leave them to die in the streets?!” Rosa’s words flair with a mix of concern and fury.
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Her general reaction takes me aback. Why would anyone be this concerned over what happened to me? Besides, neither of them visited me in the hospital. Why would anyone suddenly give a fuck about me now?
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But my pitiful inner monologue is interrupted by Rosa's continued glance as if she's expecting an answer about my suspected attacker.
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"I…." I struggled to answer while trying to describe the attacker. I was only able to get a brief glance before I lost consciousness. I try to recall the attacker had a feminine voice despite her voice being muffled, she seemed to be on the short side, the realization suddenly hits me like a truck.
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Of course... God, I'm retarded.
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"Aye, it doesn't matter right now! We need to report this to the Polícia!" Rosa's statement pulled me out of my thoughts.
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"There's no point. The police aren't gonna do something for someone like me anyway." I say with a mixture of pain and exhaustion in my voice. This sours Rosa's expression but motions to my leg again.
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“But we still have to take you to a hospital! Tu pierna todavía está en muy mal estado!”
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I’m really glad Spanish class is one of the few things I remember back from high school.
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“Rosa, I don’t have any insurance. What little money I do have probably won’t even cover the hospital bill.”
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Rosa's expression goes from determined to uncertain. At the same time, she begins to mumble something to herself in Spanish, glad to see I'm not the only one who does that.
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“R-rosa… Isn’t your mom a doctor?” Stella softly chimes in, snapping Rosa out of her mumbling.
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I can tell Rosa begins to contemplate Stella's suggestion as she rubs her wrist.
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"It's not her area of expertise. B-but, I am sure mi Madre should be able to help An-on's injuries." She nods to Stella. Before I can interject with anything, she faces the windshield and turns her key in the ignition, causing the van's engine to roar back to life.
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“Don’t worry An-on, we’ll be there soon, no te muevas!” she calls out to me while shifting her eyes towards the mirror.
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Why didn’t they just leave me?
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…
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We finally arrived at Rosa's house after driving for almost half an hour, the car. The car ride was rather uneventful. Rosa caught on how painful it was for me and insisted I saved my voice, no argument here.
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On the other hand, Stella managed to stop crying when she withdrew a pair of headphones from her bag. Immersing herself in her own world, attempting to soothe herself. I can't help wondering what happened to her to make her so 'shell-shocked?'
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She doesn't look crippled. She survived. Did she… know anyone who died? I've only ever seen her hang out with Rosa and that purple raptor a couple of times.
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“Okay, we’re here!” Rosa’s announcement pulls me out of my thoughts as I get a glance at her house and it’s general surroundings.
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A beige-coloured house adorned in cobblestone situated in one of the "quieter" parts of Volcadera Bluffs. Away from the city and overlooking the countryside. The lawn that laid before the house could only be described as 'immaculate,' accompanied by a small but beautiful garden that crept beneath the house's windows, displaying a composition of various colors and plants. Considering how passionate Rosa was about gardening back at Volcano High, it makes sense her passion would carry back to her at home.
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"Stella, I need you to help me get An-on inside, okay?" Rosa requests her friend, devoid of the authoritative presence I've noticed from her requests in the past.
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Stella replies with a nod while refusing to return her glance, and the two exit the car and make their way. The car door to my right opens in front of me, and I see pious ankylo greet me.
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Prior to her usually outfit back when I knew her at Volcano High, her orange hoodie was accompanied by a pain of clean jeans and brown fall boots, contrasting her skirt and sandals that she often wore.
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Which makes sense as the days get colder and colder as we head into November.
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Rosa begins trying to help me out while attempting not to put weight on my (further) crippled left leg.
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"Cuidado An-on, I got you!" She calls out and moves to my right side to offer support, where Stella accompanies my left side.
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"T-thanks." I struggle to say as I put my arms and both of their shoulders, and the two proceed to help me make the journey aside.
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From ten feet in front of us, the door opens, revealing a middle-aged ankylosaur woman of medium height, Rosa's mother.
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“Dios mío, ¿qué le pasó a tu amigo, niña?!” She asks her daughter with a great deal of concern.
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“Lo atacaron en lo calle, le dolía mucho la pierna. ¡Mamá!” Rosa calls out while helping to carry me indoors.
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"Oh dear, set him down on the couch, and we'll have a look! I will only be a second" She addresses us when we finally make our way indoors, presumably switching to English, so Stella understands the directions.
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After entering, we took a right into the living room. I saw it was adorned with typical Latin decor, along with a cross hanging above the tv. I also spy a handful of framed pictures of Rosa and her family, looking like she has a brother and a sister.
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"Over here, An-on" Rosa says while shifting herself to allow me to safely sit on the couch. "Ahí tienes."
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Rosa’s mother enters the living room with a medical kit, a bottle of pills, and a bottle of water, she sets them aside and faces me.
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“It’s all going okay, An-on was it?” she asks.
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"Y-yeah, thank you doctor…" I paused mid-sentence. I don't think I've actually ever learned Rosa's last name.
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She replies with a chuckle. “It’s okay niño, you can call me Mrs. Castillo.”
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Mrs. Castillo redirects her attention towards my mess of a leg, notices the now bloodstained bandage applied by her daughter, the slight rip in my jeans around the affected area, the sight of the torn denim reminding me of the past I’ve endured not long ago.
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"I'm afraid there's not much I can do here An-on, but the best I can do is maybe clean the wound, apply some new bandages and help with the pain." She says with a tinge of regret in her voice. She reaches over to the medical kit and withdraws a pair of bandages, gauze pads, and other various medical supplies. I've seen so many first aid kits appear in the typical boomer shooters I waste my days with, but to see what's actually inside them is a new experience.
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"Girls, could you give us a moment, please? I think An-on would appreciate a little privacy for the process." She turns her head to address Rosa and Stella, who were both standing by the door frame and observing the two of us.
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“Sí, mamá!” Rosa replies in her mother tongue (heh), displaying a level of concern in her eyes towards me.
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“O-okay.” Stella replies meekly.
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Rosa takes Stella by the hand and gives me a reassuring nod before taking the two girls to another room, their footsteps becoming fainter and fainter.
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"Okay, An-on, we just need to take your pants off so we can get a closer look at the damage."
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Not how I expected my first time with a middle-aged lady to be. God, what the fuck is wrong with my mind? I really hope I'm not mumbling this.
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…
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Some rather awkward time passes. Turns out the gash was caused by the leg brace, it must have dug itself into my skin when it was destroyed. Thankfully Rosa's mother managed to disinfect the wound and applied some new bandages. However, my left leg is once again fractured, and now I have no leg brace or crutches, just my fucking luck.
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However, I'm still taken aback by the way Rosa's mom treated me. She didn't treat me as some delinquent or burden, but rather a guest, and opened her home to me and showed me genuine concern and kindness. When any hospital would have thrown me out for not having insurance, it's a miracle I was able to take care of that bill when I got shot.
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As my eyes lazily wander the living room of the Castillo household, I hear the slow footsteps emerging from the hallway.
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"Hola An-on, how are you holding up?" She asks while holding a mug emanating a comforting ray of steam emerging from the cup. Stella following right behind her, holding a cup of her own with two hands.
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"I brought you some tea. It's chamomile." She says, handing me the beverage. I've never really been one for Tea before, but I'd imagine it's a vast upgrade over the boiled dirt I've been drinking that passes for coffee at home.
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I raise the warm cup up to my lips. The taste is rather pleasant, silky smooth, with gentle notes of honey and apple. I'll have to grab this next time I go out.
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I rest my cup on the coffee table sitting in front of me and address my host and saviours.
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"Thanks, Rosa, you really didn't have to do all of this for me," I say as she and Stella sit down on the couch adjacent to me.
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“But why? Why did you two save me?”
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Rosa seems quite taken aback by my question. Even a subtle degree of surprise creeps from Stella's face.
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“What do you mean ‘why did we save you?!’ ¡Te han hecho mucho daño! We couldn’t just leave a friend to die on the streets!”
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A friend, after all this time they consider me a friend? After the way I ruined and abused her flowers the first time we met, after how shitty I was to Stella, who was just happy to meet someone who shared their love of anime, and did nothing but try to be my friend.
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After what Fang did to everyone… Because of what I failed to stop, why don't they hate me?
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"Of course, we consider you a friend! niño estúpido!"
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Even in a stupor of self pity, I can’t stop mumbling.
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“I know you never mean to destroy my flowers! Accidents happen, and I could tell underneath all of that angst. You weren’t bad, just lost!” Rosa’s words echo the room with a mixture of exasperation yet compassion.
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"And don't you for a second blame yourself for what that puta satánica de mierda did! That was not on you! Not for one-second An-on!"
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“No. I fucked up Rosa, I fucked up real bad. If I had been a better friend to those around me and not put myself before others, things could have been different” My voice became strained, the tightness in my chest increasing like a vice as I struggled to contain my composure.
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Rosa's eyes meet my own and remain focused on them for what feels like an eternity. After a few seconds, her eyes meet the ground again and sighs, looking as if she's about to speak, only to be cut off by a neighboring voice.
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“I don’t hate you Anon...”
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The somber yet sympathetic words emerge from Stella, sitting beside Rosa as she stares vacantly at the cup she’s clasping with both of her hands.
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"I… f-forgive you for acting the way you did towards me.. A-and i'm sorry I ran away from you earlier.." Stella continued without looking in my direction, her eyes gazed upon the warm cup.
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“Ever since I… It’s…” She finally looks up towards me, her eyes telling a story of fear, pain, sorrow.
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The struggling look on the Stego's face tells me everything. She wants to elaborate further and explain why she's become so withdrawn and meek compared to the bubbly yet socially awkward fortune-teller I knew her as at Volcano high?
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Rosa looks at her with sympathy and takes this as an opportunity to regain control of the conversation as she takes hold of Stella’s hand and gives it a squeeze.
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"What Stella is trying to say An-on, is that she has been.." Rosa briefly pauses, and she carefully tries to think of how to continue her explanation as she turns her gaze towards Stella.
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“Going through a great deal of pain since the ‘Incident,’ like I told you earlier. “She’s been finding it difficult to talk to people she’s not used to.” Rosa returns her gaze towards me.
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“When I took her to the pharmacy to-”
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Rosa abruptly stops her sentence as if she just entered a sensitive subject. I can see the wheels in Rosa's head turn as she thinks of how to better explain Stella's behaviour, while the lime stegosaurus remained fixated on her tea cup with a sad expression.
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“Fue una sopresa, we were not expecting to see an old amigo there…”
​
It all became more clear the more thought I gave it and the more Rosa continued to explain it. The shooting probably gave her some form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, seeing her classmates dead, her school in chaos. That explains her massive personality change compared to the Stella I knew half a year ago.
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“You are not the only person in the world.”
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The familiar words come back to me as I feel a twinge of guilt emerging from my gut. I'm not the only one who walked away from that school with scars. Why do I have to be such a self-centered piece of shit?
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The room has been silent long enough as Rosa continues to hold Stella's hand as she looks towards me, assuming I have something to say after her explanation. I should say something.
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"Damn, I'm truly sorry Stella, I can imagine how horrible going through all of that must have been for you." I empathize with Stella, avoiding mentioning details of the 'incident' similar to what Rosa has been doing, likely to prevent the trauma from resurfacing.
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“T-thank you Anon.. That means a lot…”
​
....
​
The three of us spent the next hour and a half talking about what transpired in our lives since the shooting at Volcano High.
​
Surprisingly, Rosa decided to stay and take a 5th year at Volcano High, confusing me since she never struck me as the type of person who would need to take an extra year in high school. She always seemed like an intelligent and hardworking girl. Rosa explained that the incident had 'opened her eyes" and made her realize that she needed more time to contemplate her future. However, I noticed a level of doubt and uncertainty when she gave her reasoning, giving me a feeling there's more to her decision than what she's letting on.
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Additionally, Rosa mentioned that she took over Naomi's now vacant position of Student Council President and is the head of the gardening club. I swear this woman is trying to work herself into the grave. But she spoke as if she had some sort of obligation with her choices.
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"I want to make a difference where I can, to fix everything that puta destroyed."
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Definitely referring to Fang.
​
On the other hand, Stella's situation seems to all too familiar to my own, (from what she was able to explain with the help of Rosa.) Referring to herself as a "hikikomori', meaning most days she shuts herself in her room and avoids the world while living with her parents, not going to college or even taking a fifth year like Rosa.
​
At the very least Stella still has parents who look after her. Both Rosa and Stella mention that they're doing their best to support her and help her emotionally. They're already doing miles more than my own parents, who pretty much threw me away after I failed to 'live up to their expectations.'
​
When I mentioned this, Stella began apologizing to me in a somewhat excessive amount. I'm assuming she's trying to give me her sympathy?
​
When the time come to tell my own story, I explained my current situation after Volcano High, how I'm unemployed and not in school, still rotting away at my apartment in Skin Row, surprising them both that I live in Skin Row, even if they both found me at a pharmacy in Skin Row, or getting almost beaten to death by a masked midget in Skin Row. Still, I guess I never told them.
​
However, I made sure to neglect mentioning some of the more unsavoury aspects of my already unsavoury life, such as my downing pills like candy, not to mention the constant nightmares and hallucinations I have. I only just met with them again. I don't want them to know how fucked I am.
​
Later I tried to go home so I could shitpost and smoke my troubles away. Rosa refused to let me go due to my injuries, how I'm now without a leg brace, and how my former crutch was sitting under my bed in my shitty apartment. I was hoping to just go home to smoke and shitpost the pain away, but she's right. I'm not in any condition to leave.
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Besides, no one has been this kind and gracious to me in a long time. Who am I to throw that away? Still, I needed a smoke.
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Fortunately, both Rosa and Stella went upstairs to have a private discussion, granting me the perfect opportunity to indulge myself.
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With the help of a desk chair that Rosa's mom lent me to navigate to the bathroom without putting pressure on my leg, I guided myself towards the house's entrance to the back deck. I could forget I existed for a little bit.
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I'm greeted with a sea of stars in the night sky as I quietly open the sliding door, all while slowly lowering myself to the ground, careful not to further injure my already fucked up leg. I then proceeded to drag myself towards the edge of the deck, looking like a dog scooting in the process.
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After finding a place on the deck comfortable enough to sit, I take out my pack of cigarettes, I open it and retrieve one of its contents along with the shitty dollar store lighter that I keep in the carton.
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I proceed to bring the cigarette closer to my mouth as I light it, filling my air with the pungent yet soothing sensation of nicotine and tobacco, helping to ease my nerves and helping me ignore the pain.
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As the smoke exits my lungs, I gaze around my surroundings to see just how big Rosa's backyard really is. It makes sense considering Rosa lives in a more rural part of Volcadera Bluffs, with only two other houses neighboring her own. The Castillo family must have a pretty peaceful home out here.
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I feel a strange sense of peace wash over me, especially with how the stars dance upon the grassy fields like a cascade of lunar brilliance, with no one but me, the moonlit sky, and a poorly lit cigarette.
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I wish I could have shared moments like these with Fang. What I would give to just hold you in my arms again and see you one last time.
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“H-how are you doing?” A gentle voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
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I turn around to see Stella address me with a shy yet considerate presence, adorned in an oversized pre-cure t-shirt, accompanied with cyan shorts and kitten slippers. If it weren't any more obvious I guess she's staying the night too.
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"Just pea-- I mean, I'm doing a little better now, thanks."
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Don't be a dick Anon, she came to check up on you.
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“You’re not being rude, I understand if you’re not in the best mood, I'm sorry.”
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Stella looks away with dejection, thanks to me and my fucking mumbling.
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"Wait, Stella!" I interject before pausing, causing Stella to face me again to hear me.
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"I'm… I'm sorry, I just… haven't really spoken to anyone since high school. My people skills are a bit rusty, not that they were any good to begin with." My eyes look and meet Stella's. Albeit briefly as her eyes wander to the skies.
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"After what.. Happened. I just kind of stopped trying to talk to others."
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The lime stegosaurus takes a seat on the steps by my right side, but her eyes remain entranced on the stars, remaining silent. Should I explain further?
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“I almost died that day… Although it does feel like that’s what happened, or what should have happened.”
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My response manages to grab Stella's attention, who shifts her gaze towards me as I continue my monologue.
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“No one visited me in the hospital, not even my own parents, I might as well have been dead to them and everyone else. After that, I've just been drifting through life with no purpose or meaning.”
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“And... Maybe it’s better this way..” My eyes meet the ground as I breathe a deep sigh, staring at my hand holding the still-lit cigarette, staring as the paper continues to burn and turn to ash.
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A couple seconds pass, and I feel the light touch of a hand on my shoulder.
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"Fate hasn't been kind to me either," Stella confessed with a mixture of sadness and defeat painted across her face.
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"I haven't really talked to anyone either.. Other than my parents and Rosa since.." her voice trembling slightly before she's able to finish her sentence and remind herself of the trauma she endured.
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"I know what you mean.. You're not alone there. It's been hard.." I reply, uncertain of anything else to add.
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“Yeah…” Stella returns her hand from my shoulder and returns to her lap.
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Damn it. Why can't I be better at this shit? Has my self-imposed exile into neetdom really turned me into this much of an unsociable autist?
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“So…” The beginning of Stella’s sentence snaps my attention back to her.
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“How is your leg feeling now? Does it still hurt?” Stella motions to my mess of a leg.
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Inflamed. Throbbing. Fragile. The words that come to mind to describe how I feel, my leg feels like it's practically about to fall apart at any second. I probably shouldn't say that, though.
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"It still hurts pretty bad, not gonna lie, but it's not as painful as before."
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The shy Stego's expression turns into one of concern as she examines my leg in its crippled state.
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“I-I still can’t believe someone would just hurt you like that.” Stella remained fixated on my leg with a sympathetic expression. “No one deserves to be treated like that.”
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Correct, I deserve worse than this...
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Another brief yet comfortable silence passes us, putting my suspicions at ease that I'm not mumbling whatever self-deprecating bullshit echoes through my mind.
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“S-so, have you seen any new anime lately?” I turn and ask the somber stego, trying to lighten the mood.
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"O-oh, uhh yeah I've seen a couple new good shows, actually!" Stella beams, albeit slightly in response to my question. "Let's see there's Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Promised Neverland, Beastars, oh and Demon Slayer!"
​
I cringe a little bit on the inside, being reminded of Stella's normie taste in anime. Still, the simple question seemingly helped brighten her mood. She was holding consistent eye contact as a slight smile formed on her lips.
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"How about you, Anon? Any good shows you've watched lately?"
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I.. Haven't actually really watched any anime shows lately, shockingly enough. The past few months, I've just been glued to my monitor, roaming the various dreg heaps of the internet, with the occasional Rock Ring playthrough every now and then.
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The fog that enveloped my brain makes it difficult to recall my memories of seeing anything new, except maybe..
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“I think I-”
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My less than thought out answer comes to an abrupt stop as I feel a searing and tingling sensation in the fingers of my left hand. Oh goddamn it.
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I forgot about the cigarette.
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“Ah shit!” I cry as I drop the cigarette and dispose of the remains with a hard stomp with my left foot.
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Wait...
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“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKK!!!!”
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Mistakes were made, fucking caveman instincts…
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"A-anon, are you okay?!" My sudden outburst caused Stella to shoot up from her seat with a worried expression.
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Before I can respond through my pained breathing and panting, a tirade of Spanish emerges from the house.
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“¡¿QUÉ ESTÁ PASANDO AHÍ FUERA?! ¡¿ESTÁN TODOS BIEN?!”
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The yelling emerging from the house grows louder and louder as the source of the said tirade approaches the sliding door.
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“An-on, What happened! Are you alright?!” Rosa calls out as she moves the desk chair away from the door, and emerges from the entrance barefoot, wearing a set of plain yet colorful pajamas, and runs towards the both of us to investigate my pained cries
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“I’m okay, I just did something I wasn’t supposed to” I answer weakly as I lift my leg from the ground and hold it in mid-air, to avoid touching the ground.
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“What do you mean? What-” Rosa’s inquiry is cut short when she notices the stomped remains of a cigarette where my foot just happened to be a second ago. And like a switch, Rosa’s worried expression quickly turns into an expression of annoyance.
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Before I can explain myself, I’m interrupted with a smack upside the head from the sour ankylo.
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“Oww! What the hell?”
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“¡NO FUMAR! ¿QUIERES MATAR TUS PULMONES Y APESTAR LA CASA?” She angrily interrogates me in her mother tongue. “Besides, why are you two even out here this late? You should be going to sleep now!”
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It’s almost like that’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid right now.
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"But why An-on? You need it most of all. You're injured!" The tone in her voice softens slightly as she responds to my mumbling.
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She doesn't need to know why. She doesn't need to know.
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"I couldn't sleep if I wanted to. I have insomnia." The glance that Rosa gives me in response says it all, ‘C’mon, we know that’s a load of bullshit.’
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Her piercing stare causes me to give in and let out a sigh.
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"Alright, I can't sleep... Not because I physically can't, but because I don't want to." I confess to both of them as they continue to look at me with concern. "I've had nothing but nightmares where I'm forced to relive that day, again and again, each one becoming more gruesome and horrific than the last, I just…."
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“I just can’t… Not anymore.”
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Rosa kneels down next to me and raises a hand, but she places it on my shoulder rather than across my head this time.
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"Lo Siento An-on.. I can't even imagine how hard that must be for you." Rosa attempts to comfort me while patting my shoulder. "But you need to rest. It will only be much harder for your leg to heal if you don't get rest."
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I really don't want to sleep, but seeing how fucked my leg is and how I don't really have anything to help me stay awake, I guess I don't really have much choice. Especially when I'm trying to reason with Rosa.
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“Okay…” I give in to the Ankylosaur’s pleas.
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“Muy beuno! Here, I’ll help you up.” She responds, relieved at my answer.
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Just like before, Rosa approaches my right side, and before she's able to ask, Stella approaches my left, ready to help me.
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"Okay, Uno, dos, tres!" She counts down as the two help me off the ground, and we make our way back inside where the two help me into the desk chair they've leant to me.
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"Oh, by the way An-on, we managed to find some pillows and blankets for you on the couch, including one for your leg." Rosa informs me as she wheels me through the house, passing through the kitchen and hallway on our way to the living room.
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"Thanks, Rosa, I don't know what to say." I reply to her, looking behind the chair and back at her.
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She simply responds with a friendly smile.
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We finally enter the living room and I see the couch adorned with three fresh pillows and an oversized yet equally fuzzy white blanket.
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"I mean it really, you've done so much for me tonight, I really appreciate it" I address the two with a mixture of gratitude and disbelief.
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Both Rosa and Stella smile at me again, although Stella's is more shy and subtle than Rosa's confident smile.
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"Of course, what are friends for after all?" Rosa nods before turning around to disappear for the night "Buenas noches, An-on!"
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Only Stella remained in the living room with me, who stood a couple feet away from me, fidgeting and avoiding eye contact again.
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“I’m.. I’m glad we found you again.”
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“Yeah… Me too..”
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She stops her fidgeting and turns to follow in the direction Rosa left to, but not before stopping by the door. She turns her head towards me slightly, I can see the slight smile.
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“Have a good night, I hope you feel better in the morning.”
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"Thanks, Stella, you too."
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Her smile remained as she gave a slight head bow, of course. And left the living room, leaving me alone in the living room of the Castillo household.
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The room stood before me, dimly lit by the lamp placed beside the makeshift bed on one of the tables. This couch alone looks comfier than my bed.
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I'm gonna hate myself in the morning for agreeing to this, aren't I?
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I shift myself from the desk chair onto the couch with a flair of caution of further inflicting pain to my leg.
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Success.
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I slip under the blanket, placing my leg on the pillow meant to offer comfort and support, I usually sleep on my side but I don’t feel like waking up everyone in the house with my screams tonight.
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Damn, this is really comfortable. If I actually wanted to sleep tonight, I might really enjoy this.
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With only one thing left to do, I reach over to the lamp on the table and turn off the lights and watch as the room fades to black, surrounding me in comfortable darkness, inviting my body sinks into the couch, enveloping me in it's warmth.
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After everything, I still can't believe those two still helped me and let me stay the night. A simple phrase of words echoes through my mind as I drift to sleep.
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Do I truly deserve this?