new perspective

ix. KIT'S NOT BLUE

chapter nine,

kit's not blue.

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[unedited] 9.

"i- i-" darryl stuttered, words being interrupted by his trembling, "i was diagnosed that day you cuh-" he cleared his throat, wiping his sore eyes, "came over with the flowers. it's a tumor in my brain. the size of my fist."

"i don't have any insurance to pay for the cure." he said, "my dad won't pay for it."

"how long." i asked. he was quiet. 

"how long." i pressed onto him, flinching from his coldness. he backed up, "i gotta go."

"how fucking long darryl." 

"a week. i have a week."

"were you ever gonna tell me?" i wondered, and as darryl sat up from my bed, he shook his head, "i never expected us to get close."

i promised to never leave him, but never realized he didn't promise the same for me.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"why did darryl leave so early?" my mother asked me the next morning, breathing in the fresh air of my clean room. i felt numb, pulling my knees to my chest and shrugging. 

"he's a nice boy." she told me, "and.. i overheard some of your conversation yesterday. i couldn't help myself."

"nice." i dryly said. she walked to sit beside me, but i shook my head. "go."

"you two are together?" she wouldn't drop the topic. "zak.. you do know me and his father are together, right?"

"never told me." i mumbled, leaning on the wall beside my bed. 

"ye-" i stopped her, "i said go."

"fine." she finally let it go, storming out of my room. good. now i had time for myself. 

darryl was dying. he had a tumor in his brain the size of a fist, and no cure was being sent to his way. 

i wasn't mad at him. i would never be mad at him for something like this. i was mad at myself for letting it happen.

i was mad that the only person i decided to open up to, was going to leave me. forever. i was frustrated that i could only love him on limited time, and that we wouldn't be able to take it slow. because time was already ticking, and we had no time to spare.

i glanced out the window, admiring his house. he still had the 'for sale' sign up on his yard, which confused me, but i didn't think about it too much.

the day was rainy, just like all the others had been. even the weather was sad.

we could never have a future. we could never live together. we could never be serious.

serious meant commitment.

suddenly, i was back in that box. that claustrophobic room with four walls pressing against my skin, forcing me to gasp for air. the room was small, and i couldn't move. i was stuck between the sides. 

"kit's not blue. kit's not blue."

i clasped my mouth closed, focusing my body on the words i heard from a distance.

"kit's not blue. kit's not blue."

"what does that mean?" i screamed out, clenching my fists so hard that blood shed. i wiped my hand on the wall, hissing at the pain.

"kit's not blue." the voice was now taunting me. i tried to turn my head, but the walls were closing in. they were pushing me flat, leaving no air to breathe. 

"help!"  i screamed, "someone help me!"

i made my best effort to bang on the walls, "please!"

"stop panicking." 

i was terrified at the sound of darryl's voice. it was so loud that it pierced through my skin, cracking my bones and leaving me pained. was he the one who had been repeating that phrase all along?

"darryl, help! please!"

"but what if i'm the one who needs the help?" he asked, and i listened. "what if i was the one who has been struggling? why didn't you notice!"

"i did!" i exclaimed, banging harder on the wall behind me, "i noticed! i did! the walls, darryl i'm gonna —"

"you understand that i will never be able to believe that?" he screamed, and i wanted to cover my ears. "i will never believe you ever cared! nobody does! you'll leave like they all do!"

"no, i won't! i swear i won't! i love y-"

"this time no one will leave me. because i'll leave first." he spat, and my body became cold. chills ran up my spine as he continued, "zak, you know this is all not blue, right?"

"tell me what that means!" i cried.

"kit's not blue."

and that was when i opened my eyes, and noticed my mother standing at the door frame with a confused expression, asking, "are you okay?"

i looked around me, my eyes trained on my white bed sheet that was now full of blood. i turned my right hand around, the scratches freshly made and oozing blood. i lifted my hand up, showing my mother. 

she gasped, and hurried off into the washroom at the end of the hall. 

why didn't my hand hurt?

she entered my room again, a first aid-kit in hand. i shoved the box away, blood flying on the kit, "it doesn't hurt."

"honey-"

"i don't need it. my hand doesn't hurt." i repeated, wiping my hand on my pillow. 

"i need to clean your hand! it can get infected!" my mother exclaimed, trying to get a hold of me. i shook my head, "it doesn't hurt!"

"zak! please! don't scare me like this!" she said, causing me to become confused. my hand didn't hurt. so what?

"scare you?" i asked, and she nodded, "yes! i might need to call someone, jesus christ. you've bled so much.. "

"it doesn't matter, mom. just go."

"i'm not leaving you like this." 

kit's not blue.

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