ODE TO SLEEP

「006. clinically insane」

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NO one ended up telling me why Maddox was shot. Not even Maddox would tell me. If I asked, he would just tell me not to worry about it. He had it handled, and it was just a bit of a misunderstanding. It pissed me off to no avail, but after the fourth time asking, I didn't bring it back up.

"You ever gonna come down from there?"

Maddox's voice broke through the otherwise silent room. It had been quiet for about two hours now after Maddox jumped when he noticed me in the room. I'd been in here for about five hours, and he'd only noticed me two hours ago. He usually always checks, but it slipped his mind this time.

He lifted his head up from his desk, looking up to where I lay across the tops of his cabinets. My leg dangled over the edge, and I was tracing the lines on the ceiling. I used to hide up here when I was little, so being up here was almost comforting to me. I liked to be up high. I could see everything when I was above it. Heights were never a fear of mine. Surprisingly so, considering the number of other fears I had.

"When my dead body rolls onto the floor,"

Maddox sighed. I guess he didn't appreciate my suicide jokes.

"You're getting a bit too big to be hiding up there," He said, laying his arm across the desk. "Don't you think?"

"You callin' me fat?"

"You're six-foot-three, Isaiah. You'll put your head through the roof if you sit up."

I shrugged. Maddox sighed again.

"Isaiah, you don't need to hover around me," He said, sitting back in his chair, making it creak. "I'm not helpless."

"No, you just let new guys shoot you for target practice," I replied.

"What're your thoughts on Marshall and Emerson?" He asked.

"Marshall's a bastard, and Valerie was right. He and I aren't going to get along," I said.

"And Emerson?"

"I don't have an opinion on her,"

Maddox seemed to analyze my answer. "Why is that?"

"Don't know her, and don't plan to get to know her," I rolled my head to look at him. "So don't even think about it."

"She's a few months younger than you," He said. "You're both only sixteen."

"The only difference is one of us is a cold-blooded, medically diagnosed psychopath who goes off the rails without medication," I rolled my wrist to emphasize my point. "And the other is some girl who called her brother for help."

"Is that how you see yourself, Isaiah?" He asked.

"How else would I?" I scoffed. "I'm quite literally insane, Maddox."

He stared up at me for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed together. He then sat forward in his chair, motioning to the seat across from him. "Here. Come sit."

I rolled off the cabinets and landed on my feet. Maddox shook his head at me. I plopped down in the chair across from him. He held his hand out to me. I reached up and slid the mask over my face, placing it in his palm.

"Isaiah, I gave this mask to you for a reason. It wasn't just so that you could be a part of the Blackstorm, and match like everyone else," His fingers traced over the paint. "I gave it to you so that you could be you. When I first gave it to you, you painted over the red and made it blue instead, personalizing it to your liking."