Guess What Empathy?

Chapter 1

I am sleeping.

I feel the sun on my skin and even see the brightness through my lids. So warm. Like a warm embrace in a field of bright yellow flowers. Or like being immersed in a warm golden liquid, spilling over every surface.

It lasts for a few moments and suddenly the light dips into a cold shadow. My eyes squeeze in an attempt to block it out. I shiver when it doesn't leave and open my eyelids.

My mom is sitting in the driver's seat next to me, on her phone looking something up on Yelp. Shifting in her direction, I wait for her to notice me.

She doesn't budge.

Sighing I look over at her screen, she is looking up cafés in the vicinity, downtown LA. Even though I know what she's doing I ask in my groggiest voice, "Hey, Mom? What are you doing?"

She looks up and when her dark eyes focus on me they seemed surprised, I feel it from her. It makes me feel frustrated for some reason, but I don't say anything. I don't blame her, I sleep a lot and when I'm not sleeping I act like...well, a teenager.

I try not to, but everything is always so loud.

"Ah, I'm just looking for something..." my mother replies looking back at her screen.

Not exactly what I was expecting. Why would she not just say 'I am looking up something for us to do,' or even simply 'cafés.' I shake my head. I can tell that Mom is far from focused. For me to narrow in on a frivolous detail that bothers only me, that would be, by definition, inconsiderate.

I snort, at the thought, and try to think of something more cheerful.

It seems, when the world is so overwhelming, people — well, I, for that is the only person I can vouch for — block the white noise out and hone in on little attributes of the least significance. Not that they are unimportant, they mean a great deal to me, but I think — well I know — it frustrates everyone else.

Enough of that.

I look out the window at the wall we had parked by. It is a considerably...nice...day. The sun shines down in playful rays and even the wall that blocks our sunlight possesses a certain vibrancy.

I stare at it again, there are marks in it that indicate scaffolding from former constructions. As I continue to examine it, feelings of discontent, disgust, resignation, excitement, and much more wash over me. Gritting my teeth I start to look away. But before I can turn the other direction something hits me. A wall of remorse. I blink, rubbing my temples. And then I look back at the building. As soon as I do, I am stabbed by a sudden fist of agony.

I grip my chest, yet the pain is gone as soon as I felt it. I was used to this. This torment is hardly my own, and I don't just mean the affliction, I mean my curse that is my Empathy.