Basically Strangers (revised)

[6 - Stranger With A Panic Attack]

[6 - Stranger with a Panic Attack]

You stared at the computer. The pictures weren’t stopping. They were just coming up over and over and over again. A small set of videos popped up, the first one having the frozen image of a smiling ginger boy. He had to be young, maybe fourteen. Behind him was a burning building. You hesitantly grabbed the mouse and clicked the play button.

“My name is Arkin DeMeo,” said the cheery voice. The fire roared behind him “8077-2950. Under the direction of my employer, Vincent Dawn, I took part in the burning of this meat packing company in Sungye, China. 247 casualties.” You looked at Arkin, who was trying not to cry.

“Please don’t be mad,” he whimpered, looking at the floor like a scolded child. This man was nothing like the child in the video, proud of the deaths. “Please don’t be mad….” You glanced at the corner of the screen.

“Hey,” you said in a soft voice. “I’m going to be late for school. Can you give me a ride?” Arkin stared at you with tears in his eyes. The panic was incomparable. The car ride was silent. When you got to the school, you reached to open the door, but Arkin grabbed your other hand. He was still panicking. He couldn’t breathe.

“YN,” he said in a shaky voice. “Are you mad at me?” You just kinda looked at him.

“I don’t know, Arkin,” you responded, looking at the floor. “Can we talk about this after class?” He nodded, reluctant to let go of your wrist. You looked at him. There was no way he’d be calming down any time soon. You leaned in and kissed his cheek lightly, making him gasp just slightly. “It’s going to be okay.” You left the car and rushed into the school. Arkin watched you retreat into the crowd. You were gone.

“It’s going to be okay,” he muttered to himself, repeating your words. Arkin parked in the school parking lot and didn’t move from his blue bug car. He tried taking a second to plan what he was going to say to you. He had to plan it, and quickly.

The school day felt weird to you. Maybe it was because it was so humid outside. Maybe it was the most Monday-like Wednesday you’d ever had. Maybe it was because the dude you’d been living with turned out to be…. You didn’t even know what to call it. A serial killer? A mercenary? You didn’t know. You tried not to think about it. And just that that Literary Composition test, you failed.

As you left the school for the end of the day, you looked in the parking lot and saw Arkin’s little blue bug car, and him sitting in the driver’s seat biting his nails. You sighed and quickly walked to the car. You knocked on the passenger side window to let him know you were there before getting in.

“Are you okay?” You asked. He nodded quickly. “Have you just been sitting in the parking lot for the last eight hours?” He shrugged, embarrassed to answer. You shook your head. “Let’s go home.” He nodded and started the car silently. Walking into the apartment, Arkin quickly led you back into his office. You sat in the spinny chair as he anxiously hovered beside you.

“Please let me explain,” he begged quietly. You spun the chair dramatically to face him.

“Then explain,” you said emotionlessly. Your cold tone was killing him. He never thought he would be on the edge of tears trying to explain his history to a teenager.

“Can…. May.. May I hold you, YN?” he requested hesitantly. You nodded, not opposed to physical affection, especially if it was going to help him calm down. He sat in the spinny chair, and you sat in his lap holding onto his neck. He tightly hugged around your waist, burying his face in your neck and chest.

“Are you ready to explain?” you asked. You tried not to sound demanding.

“Yeah….” he muttered. “I didn’t know my parents. I know that's a cliche, but I never knew them. They were gone the moment my sister and I were born.”