The Pointless Book

Extract From A Book I'll Never Write #8

SKINWALKER

For the majority of his life, he's found himself living inside of a rotting corpse. It has never been his own, no, it's as if he stole it. A pathetic skinwalker feeding off of someone else's body, someone else's experiences.

Even if it's not really his – or perhaps that's just what he tells himself to make himself feel better – he hates every part of it. It starts with his hair, his raven hair that's always either too dry or too greasy. His eyebrows, painted to always make him look upset. He tried to shave them off once, perhaps when he was around 7, but they grew back in the span of two weeks, even thicker and darker and angrier than before . His eyes don't help with that image either, his stupid tired eyes and his downturned mouth and the feminine shape of his face. His disgusting sharp shoulders that are just a bit too narrow or a bit too wide for his body to make any sense. His chest, his abdomen, his hips, they're all wrong.

And, god, his hands are the worst. They're huge and always get in the way. Sometimes when he twists and turns his fingers up and down he hopes that he could just snap them off like icicles, be finally done with that problem. Of course he could no longer be a writer or play sports and daily tasks would be rather cumbersome, but sometimes he believes he'd be ready to take that risk. He'd rather love his body, even if he's been neglecting it for as long as he can recall. For as long as he's been keeping it from its rightful owner.

After a long day of nothing but school and practice and no rest at all, Alex wishes he could unzip this skin of his; step out of it and take a long bath, let his muscles absorb the water. Stretch out his fleshy costume, hang it outside to cool off. But he can't. He's stuck because he's forgotten how to steal skins. His sole purpose in life and he's forgotten.

Whenever something doesn't go his way, he simply says it isn't his. This isn't his life, this isn't him. It's better than overthinking, better than pondering how he messed up that conversation he had with Brian last month or how his parents forgot to make him dinner again. It's better to imagine that this isn't happening to him, but simply the body he's inhabiting. The person everyone thinks he is when in reality he is no one. He has no responsibilities but the ones he sets for himself to keep living his hidden life.

Alex knows this means all of his relationships are made up too. Not that he has many, he barely knows his parents nor any classmates. Brian's the only one. But Brian's too simple minded to know anything about Alex's problems. About being a fraud. He'd never believe it even if Alex told him with tears in his eyes. He'd tell him that he's crazy, that of course he's the real Alex because Brian knows him, has known him for years and could tell if he was secretly someone else, but he doesn't get it. He doesn't get that it'd be even worse if this actually was his life. Because that would mean all these responsibilities are his. All these things he's been fucking up actually affect him. That he's not just a monster with no consequences, he's human. And the thought of that is so horrifying that Alex would rather hide behind the disguise of being a horrid creature instead of letting himself indulge in what it feels to actually live your own life.

The first time Alex lays his eyes on Kai, he's sure he's finally found another one. Someone who knows what it's like. Be it the shameful glint in his eyes as he avoids eye contact or the bow of his neck as he looks away from everyone around him, Alex can just tell. That they're the same. That neither of their bodies have ever been theirs. That's probably why he approaches him. Because he's desperate to have someone understand. Anyone at all, even if it's someone as unsociable and bitter as Kai. Because he knows those feelings all too well.

But he soon comes to notice that Kai is nearly perfect. He's blunt and harsh, sure, but he seems to fit into his body so much better than Alex ever could. He's tall and beautiful and his fingers are long and slender instead of bulky and clumsy. How can someone like him know exactly how Alex feels when he's so different from him? How can he too hate himself like Alex when there's nothing in him to hate?

It takes multiple nights, months worth of them, of lying on Alex's dorm room floor doing nothing but getting high or watching movies or talking before Kai finally rolls up his sleeves and Alex wants to cry for the first time in his life over someone else. But he doesn't ask him why. Why he would do that to himself, why he would harm himself like that, so deep. Because he knows what it's like to hate your skin so much you want to destroy it. Maybe it's stupid to trace his fingers over the scars as if they're something more than lines on pale skin, but for the first time in his life Alex feels he too is experiencing this moment. The fairy lights in his dark dorm room, the two huddled up on the floor with Kai's delicate arm in his hands. The dark purple lines of vulnerability over his veins. And from Kai's widened eyes, he can tell it is the same for him too.

"You're beautiful," Alex blurts out. He instantly recoils by pulling his hand back; rubbing the back of his neck with it. It's not like he can just explain that for the first time in his life it's like he's seen a real person who's just like him, who's shed all their layers just for him, to be seen bare just by him and that's why he's saying this, but when Kai's eyes travel to his, he realizes he doesn't need to. It's Kai's first time too.

Kai's a phenomenon. He's not something as drastic as a tsunami or an earthquake, but he is erosion. Deep down, behind all those layers and covers of deceit, he is erosion. And Alex digs his fingers deep under those layers to stay. Whenever he sees him, the real him, Alex's eyes are captured. Like when his amusing little smile dances on his lips when he's brought something sweet, or when tears boil in the corners of his eyes when they're doing homework late into the night together, and he quickly wipes them away in order not to seem lame.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asks once he's caught Alex looking again. Alex's head is tilted, eyes observing the way the corners of Kai's mouth almost unconsciously turned up when he caught Alex. The fuzzy, warm feeling he must be experiencing, drowning out all his worries and old, sad experiences. Feeling safe in his own mind. Perhaps Alex is just projecting.

"Do you like me?" Alex asks instead of responding, because telling the boy he's beautiful and extraordinary and making Alex feel human would maybe be too much even if they're fully stoned. Kai passes him the joint after taking another hit, narrowing his eyes. His long fingers must smell awful because of the substance, in fact the whole room smells awful, but Kai makes it bearable.
"You mean...?" he asks.

"Yeah." Because no one's ever liked him for him. It's always been his school accomplishments, his skills in sports, his looks. No one's ever looked deeper to see the real him.
"Sure," Kai hums as he leans back against Alex's bed. "I mean... if you like me too."

"I do," he replies almost too fast. But it's fine, because Kai smiles and Alex finally gathers up the courage to kiss him after what has felt like months of waiting, and Kai's lips are warm and so are his as if they were actually heating up their own bodies. And when Kai's fingers traces the skin between the hem of Alex's shirt and his jeans, he is burning hot and alive and himself.

It's the start of hand-holding and kisses on the temple and cuddling when watching movies instead of shyly staying apart. It's the start of Alex's heart being full, of realizing that maybe his eyebrows aren't that bad since Kai likes to kiss them so much. That maybe his hands are just the perfect size to hold Kai's. That maybe it feels okay to be in this skin. Kai may not be the sole reason, but he may have been the push Alex needed. To accept that this is him. To realise Alex spent twenty years being someone other than himself.

It may not have been his, but Alex has made this body his own.