It's All Your Fault (Palaye Royale)

I'm Getting Concerned About My Lonely Friend

Remington

Three years.

Three years of living in hell.

Nobody cares about me anymore. All I get are the occasional glances of pity or a quarter thrown at me. Nobody thinks I'm actually homeless because of all the freeloaders. Every now and then I manage to get lucky and someone buys me food, but I mostly have to try to scrounge for food with what little money I had managed to dig up. Or if I managed to get to the soup kitchen in time to have a meal. I had learned to arrive relatively early to ensure I had a spot.

"You say you love me, but you still left me. I guess this is why I hate myself. You say it's over, but you're still calling. I guess this is why I live in hell." I sang quietly to myself, sitting down underneath an awning and watching people scurrying about and going on about their days. It was pouring rain, so most people had their umbrellas.

Me, though, I have this awning. That's about it. My old umbrella got shredded up by some Yorkie that was convinced that my umbrella was the devil. I couldn't afford to get another umbrella, so I was stuck hiding under awnings or in the shadows of buildings in an attempt to escape the downpour. I was smaller, so more often than not I'd get shoved out of the way while waiting in line to get into the homeless shelter.

"Hey, Remi. Why so blue?" I heard a voice and rolled my eyes.

"Shut up, you're supposed to be dead." I mumbled as Sebastian sat down next to me. He was the only one that engaged in active conversations with me. Except there was one big thing.

"I am dead. I'm not real, remember?"

"Yeah, I get that." I replied before laying down and closing my eyes. I don't know if I'm hallucinating or if Sebastian is haunting me. Either way, he's an asshole.

"I heard that."

"Does it look like I care? Besides, I thought I told you to get out of my head." I turned my back to him, not wanting to talk to him at that current moment.

"Ya know, everybody walking by that sees you thinks you're crazy." He sat down next to me, unbothered by my attitude toward him. Perhaps it's because he's just a hallucination. Hallucinations don't care about what you think.

"That's because I am. I'm sitting here in the pouring rain telling my dead brother to stop getting into my head. That's the definition of crazy." I spoke as I sat up again.

"Einstein's definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results." Sebastian pointed out, seemingly unphased by the rain. Once again, didn't matter if he was a ghost or a hallucination. Neither would care about adverse weather conditions.

"Well, I'm not Einstein so suck it." I flipped him off, resting my back against the window. Nobody cared because the window was on an abandoned building.

"Ooh, spicy!" He whistled, making me laugh. Even though most of the time Sebastian got on my nerves, he was still my brother. Real or not.

"You weren't even half this interesting when you were alive." I shook my head before standing up and looking down the street. The soup kitchen would be open soon, and I'll be damned if I missed it three days in a row. I needed to eat.

"Now that hurts. Besides, I'm not real, remember?" He spoke as he followed me. There weren't very many people out right now, just someone briefly passing by me opposite from where Sebastian was keeping pace with me.

"Yeah, I know, I know. Just a hallucination. A product of my fractured psyche or whatever. But you're still the only person that talks to me." I replied, no longer bothered by the weird glances or outright stares I get. Sebastian was the closest semblance of normalcy I have. And he'll probably be the closest semblance of normalcy I'll ever have.

"Good morning, Remington." Melinda, the lady that ran the kitchen, smiled at me as she held the door open, "Today's breakfast is pancakes and sausage, and the drink is apple cinnamon green tea. There's peanut butter, jelly, and syrup if you want it."

"Sounds good. Thank you." I smiled, walking in and going up to the line, listening to the hum of people talking around me as I got my food and sat down at an empty table in the corner. I was happy that I managed to dodge the crowd. Another thing that made living as a homeless person in this city was there was a massive homeless population, so we all were competing with each other for scraps. Food thrown out by a supermarket, ripped blankets from a craft store, shit, I even saw two people get into a fistfight over a torn open and dried up pack of baby wipes.

"Those pancakes are sad looking." Sebastian hummed, making me roll my eyes. They didn't look the greatest, but beggars can't be choosers. Literally. I was just happy to get something in my stomach. Even if it was stale pancakes and boiled sausage links.

"I'm not talking to you while we're here. I don't want Melinda to think I'm crazy and not let me back anymore." I whisper, starting to eat before he could say something else.

"Melinda already thinks you're crazy. She's heard you talking to me before." Sebastian countered, laughing as I ignored him and continued eating.

"Are you gonna use your butter?" I looked up, seeing a boy with shoulder-length mousey brown hair standing in front of me, holding a tray of his own.

"You can have it." I nodded and he smiled before sitting down across from me and starting to eat. Who is this person and why do they have a sudden interest in me? So many questions. But some questions are better left unanswered.

Like is Sebastian a ghost or a hallucination? Does anybody love me besides him? If he is a ghost, what about Emerson? Is he staying with our parents or something?