heaven/hell

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His eyes trace the gold enamel trim around the cup’s mismatched saucer,  and thinks in a glimpse of a thought about how it holds the shape of itself, despite the red cup. The mundane coinciding of disparity. Touched from the edge of the afternoon’s oblique light, a point on the saucer shimmers, and blankly reflects on the cup’s dull, ceramic face to imply the principle of difference they abide by. Reminded of his hands, they settle in folded palm to palm on his lap, as if to reaffirm their faithful symmetry. 

Now Vito’s reminded of a time when he didn’t have hands. Not quite living then, but not dead either, since death is the inborn precondition to living. He looks at him, and reflexively expands the narrowed intuition of this body he’s come to habitually define than necessarily inhabit, and angular views of the shop surrounds the locus - Joseph - in unfurling fractalized petals of mirrors only Vito could bodily see. A topographical peering at, lifting the veil. 

“Admittedly, not every one is often keen – either curse or blessing. If you can imagine.” he settles in his seat, “And I believe pressure is what you call hospitality here.”

He sees him through the diaphanous squinting of the green-blue glass bead curtains to the back room door, by the furtive glimpse of the permanently sideway glancing eyes of a porcelain rabbit nosing the air, and amidst the ghostly assembly of the bodiless jacket rows. Flickers of these reflections conjoin, the seams only outlining their difference: they are only similar in the material plane they inhabit. They could not look any more different, and he smiles in this knowing. Well, after all…  

“There’s only so many ways to live,” he pauses, glancing through the shop’s name printed on the display window, as if to acknowledge his own lot to an approximate living. “Are you happy?”

- && Had he ever truly been alive? If you really think about it you could start to see the reasons why that question was such an important one. His heart had never truly been beating, his lungs had never truly been full of air. He had been existing but he had not been real, he had been alive but he had not been living. And when he finally wanted to experience the beauty of life.. he lost that chance and now he would never truly get it back. It was a tragic tale of taking everything for granted until the day you lose the chance to experience anything at all. He felt no joy in existing in this realm and he felt no excitement about the notion of immortality. 

What kind of a life would he have? A life of maybe's, a life of hopless dreams that could never truly become reality due to the fact that he had no humanity left. It was tragic but that was his life. That was what had been chosen for him, the path he had accidentally taken that night all those years ago. 

The pain he carried pain and the hurt had turned him into stone. No one else could see it but maybe they could feel it. Whenever someone touched his flesh could they feel just how rough it was? Did they cut their fingers on the sharp outlines of his ribs? Did they break their bones whenever they wrapped themselves around his frame? Joseph couldn't help but to wonder if people what a shell Joseph truly was. It was an interesting concept but he did not wish to be perceived because to be perceived meant that he actually mattered to someone and he did not know if he could handle such a thing. 

Are you happy?

The question made Joe chuckle and he simply shrugged. "Are you?"

From outside the classroom, echoes of an everyday unaware commotion flitters past in the hallway. The patter of footsteps rolling after the other, marking the motions by the screech drag of shoes and groan and slam of door and locker hinges. It’s only another day – the principal made sure of it, she’d ransomed him to uphold it with an aggrieved politeness bargained with the laconically assuring and bureaucratic hospitality due of ‘Yes ma’am’. David hadn’t been resentful of her, or sensibly inclined into sympathy– it’d been a tight-lipped understanding. He knows there’s no other way of consoling that, and still it remains unconsoled. It’s an insinuation of intrusion.

It’s a question of vigilance. From his slanted seat through a sidelong observation of the classroom, past the chemistry chart, the disbelieving motivational posters and flutter of flyers, he looks at the framed, wide styrofoam board in the back. Cardboard cutout letters asks off-center, ‘WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN THE FUTURE?’, surrounded by a haphazard halo of portraits gradating from hopefully eager, indifferently uncertain to awkwardly reluctant expressions, their answers on colorful squares of paper pinned underneath each picture. Gregory’s portrait remains inched near the question mark, staring ahead in a repose of retroactive silence. He knows this well, too. 

He withdraws his gaze when the teacher speaks, and meets Orion’s peering– watching David from a discerning insistence that eventually dulls into a look of quietly concentrated confusion. David says nothing of it, beyond the pause and flash of his own pointed stare of curt acknowledgement before he draws a pen from his breast pocket and cradles his notebook open as he begins jotting. There’s a doubt in authority, and his presence here is not at all protective. 

A child who goes missing is an interminable question. ‘Disturbed behavior’  headlines a section of his notes, as he details the incident underneath. His mind ticks to the memory of Gregory’s parents, and their home. Ordinary. Adequate. Pitiable enough, but not beyond suspicion. There’d been a sense of repentant guilt too, a shortfall in attentiveness (”If only I’d just….”). He’s familiar. Sometimes the harm is where you’re from: ‘check DFPS records’ is listed alongside. He pauses, grimacing at the thought and a new emerging task, “Mind givin’ me the names of his friends? Particularly those close to him.” he pauses again, reclining in his chair and resting his hand.

 “His parents only briefly mentioned that incident, said they took him home soon as the school nurse called. Didn’t explain or know much beyond that either,” David looks at him, “His mother says she figured he was stressed from school– why they let him drop out. Seems abrupt for a bright kid - like you said he was - don’t you think?” He sits up again, “I know the school briefly followed up on his parents for a bit, but was there anyone else that seemed particularly interested? If it’ll help narrow the list of friends– whoever he knew.”

- && Orion had always been someone who could notice when something was wrong. He noticed the shift in the air, the way people looked away whenever they tried to hide something. Reading people had never been a hard task for him which was why his mother had suggested either him becoming a therapist or working for the FBI. But sitting here in the same room with a detective.. he knew that he could never handle such a job. It would weigh him down. Knowing that lives could end so effortlessly and in such awful ways. Either that or someone disappearing and people never finding out what had happened in the first place. It would just make him feel like a failure knowing that he could not bring justice to a victim that deserved it. 

The detective in question was rather intruiging to Orion. He didn't know why, he truly couldn't put his finger on what it was that made him stand out. There was just something in his eyes that made it hard to look away. But when he looked up and their eyes locked, he felt this knot form in his stomach and his gaze lowered and then moved around the room, trying to find anything to look at that wasn't the blonde he was currently being interogated by. 

Did he have any more answers to the questions he was about to ask? It was impossible for him to give the detective all the answers he needed but that didn't mean that he wouldn't at least try.

"His friends?" Orion asked and then nodded. "Nadja, Lewis and Kurt are their names" he clasped his hands. "They always used to sit together in the back of the class. They all seemed to get along but you never know, do you? Nothing about this makes any sense" he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 

"I don't know. I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary except for the change in his demeanour"

There’s a harmony of disenchantment dimly electrifying the dry, frigid air of the convenience store. Something that grazes his bare arms, and shines in the dipteran eye of the convex mirror hanging up in the corner where the beer fridge stood in the back, humming away diligently. For a moment, Mutt eyes the mirror, just to be proven nothing beyond the shape of distortion he already knows, just for the sake of looking. Just to know what he already knows - that it was only them here. The question of humanity lingered away, but that’s not why he’d looked. As far as he knows, things are alright. 

He turns his attention to Nea again, gauging the basket muddled with the off brand milkburys and generic, clear plastic assortment of gummies sealed stapled to a piece of cardboard with generic, apt labels more prescriptive than appetizing– ‘GUMMY BEARS. 10 OZ’, ‘GUMMY WORMS. 10 OZ.’ . After they’d decided, his sight follows after to the yellowed face of the clock, and his smile lopsides with consideration.

“Prob’ly gonna be ‘nother two hours, depends- sometimes people come ‘round all of a sudden.” he knocks on the counter decisively, and glances through the gaps of promotional posters plastering the windows. “Doesn’t seem like it’s gonna be like that now, though- so maybe just another hour. Stick around if you wanna,” arms rest on the counter, bending as he leans in slightly, shoulders rounding - almost conspiratorial, “You ever go to the lake ‘round this time?’ 

- && To ask someone for company was not something Nea Richards normally did but nothing about this encounter was normal. There was just something about the other that intrigued her. It had ben such a long time since they had met someone that caused them to stick around. People bored Nea mainly because of their predictable nature. Even the ones people deem unpredictable didn't surprise her all that much. When you are a demon.. nothing really does. You have seen the rise and fall of empires and you have seen the deaths of entire families. People not even batting an eye when tragedy struck unless they themselves were in the line of fire. 

It was pathetic and it was predictable. 

David’s head follows the cant in a half-step, a tick of watching pacing his observation. Not particularly bird-like— neither of them were, and there was no undersong to listen to here, beyond the anonymous white noise culminating the school. They both attune themselves to something else, as David watches Orion. Seeing the faint lines in his face as he threads the picture - the outline - of a missing boy, greyed descriptions emerging from a blankness. Listening to the precise gait of his words in its retracing. Familiar, but it’s only a remote familiarity that underlines Teacher and Student in its connections.  “I see.”

Children who go missing naturally turn into myths. Their existence is predicated on their absence. It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before; my baby, my boy, my darling, my little girl, my angel who was this and was that. The sympathetic denials mostly goes unquestioned. 

David’s face softens for a moment, withdrawing from its impassive suspicion and minds the respite of Orion’s pause before he speaks. His fingers slip into the pages of the notebook on his lap, pausing, “It would seem so.” he pauses. Standing on the threshold of a definite missing. “I can’t reveal any particulars, but rest assured that I’m in communication with his parents.” 

It’s his turn for some pinched interval through a deeply drawn breath, as he straightens his back. “Speakin’ on sense, were you aware of anythin’ in particular that might’ve- as you’ve said, caused those changes you’d observed?”

- && Life was unfair, life was unpredictable and even someone who had been somewhat lucky knew that. He had lost, he had gained and he had mourned but also celebrated. But this was something he never thought he would ever have to experience. How do you cope with the fact that one of your students goes missing? That someone may have hurt a person that you saw in passing every single day? 

His gaze moved towards the detective and he tried to read him the best he could but at the end of the day he wasn't the best when it came to that. Orion had a tendency to be rather naive in the way he viewed the world and the way he carried himself in it. He wanted to understand what was going on and he wanted to understand the man he was talking to. But he was an enigma, a big question mark that confused and perplexed him. So he just sat there and looked at him. 

"He used to have a lot of friends but then all of the sudden he just stopped hanging out with them. He even one time stood up in the middle of glass and screamed. At the time I didn't understand what was happening and truth be told.. I still don't. I don't know what happened that caused this shift in personality. But whatever it was.. it clearly was bad enough for him to scream in the middle of English class"

In the near distance, the sound of tire crunched gravel lonelily rumbles off into the night, making noise to no one in particular in its passing. She says human, and the word gets lost like a forgotten flyer pulping in a cracked pool of mashed asphalt and the oily reflection of the convenience store’s sign. He won’t argue, “Yeah…” his voice trails off, dipping into the note of a question that never gets asked. Mutt’s hand presses against his neck again before it joins his other hand to idle on their palms on the yellowing formica countertop. 

He pushes the basket a little further from the cash register towards them, the neatly sorted pile of candies in bright disarray. “Take as much as you want, stuff’s never gonna run out.” he smiles finally, crooking towards sleepy sincerity. “You got anythin’ else you need?”

- && The word human always felt so foreign on her tongue. It sometimes even made it feel like it was burning. Sometimes Nea couldn't help but to wonder what being a human being would feel like. Having tendencies to understand is one thing but to actually be was something else entirely. At the end of the day they would never know because they were not a human being and they never would be and that was a little bit tragic when all they wanted was a normal life. Just studying the other, she arched a brow but let the reaction to her words slide. Some things are better left unsaid.

The outside continues to insist, pressing against the display window with the brassy imprint of sunset palming through the shelves to fill the weaving basket of time. Knocking through the flock of porcelain angels forgotten of their celestial ranks deferred to the neon pricing stickers clipping their wings and rifling through mismatched china plates that’s forgotten their purposes for appetite or the display cabinet. Everything else seems to pale compliantly to moving time, except for the both of them— tucked in the shadow of the shop, shaded and bright with their own unnatural mundanities. 

They are being forgotten by time, but it’s not necessarily lonely. There’s an understanding of this space they occupy - dead living between unborn living - this mutual company is the understanding. For a moment, the angled shadow of a clock’s ticking hand takes shape in the form of a flickering sun flare cutting across Vito’s face, and he’s reminded of his own living when Joseph says ancient. It’s a good reminder, and the smile on his lips is more glad than amused.

He takes another sip of the tea before he reclines again, “It’s good that you like it, then.” 

His legs cross over the other, “I would hope my company isn’t a curse.” It’s a joke that won’t insist any more than this passive air of curiosity- not asking just to ask something he could know. “Then how’s living for you, at all?”

- && People had a tendency to bore Joseph after a while. When he's heard the same thing over and over again and seen the same facial expressions, you just get rather tired truth be told. Throughout the years of his existence Joseph have become rather good at keeping things to himself instead of disclosing everything. He didn't want to be some open book laying on display, he didn't want to be perceived only to be thrown to the side when people grow tired of his presence. It is much better to hide everything behind layers of smiles, charming words and chaotic actions. It is better to just pretend than to be truly seen. What would they see? Would anybody actually like being around him if they understood just how broken he was? "Good thing indeed, my dear Vito" he then finished his cup and sighed softly. Would Vito still stick around if he saw the truth that was hiding in plain sight? Why did he even care about what the other thought? Maybe it was the years of loneliness and boredom that came out of hiding whenever he looked into those eyes. He had long missed having a friend.. that's what he is right? A friend? "Your company is pretty good actually. I wouldn't go as far as to call it a blessing or a curse. But then again if it were either of those it would put a little too much pressure on you" he winked. "Oh my life is.. ordinary and somewhat boring at times but I like it"

Their glare dully skims the inscrutable surface of his expression that’s somewhere between grimacing and wakingly asleep— half-lidded but attentive. Just aware enough to motion some semblance of apologeticness. “I’m always thinkin’- con-siderin’. Should think a little more though- yeah,” he paws at the back of his neck, scratching lightly, fingers pressing there after, as if it’d send some renewed electricity of thought to his brain. 

He watches them, skimming after every slight deliberating movement tallying the selection, “No probs.” he squeezes a smile, and pauses, “Uhh.. just so y’know there’s a buy 1 get 1 for free type of deal for that- if you want.” Mutt nods towards the small basket tray on the counter full of candy. “Dunno if it’s gonna help make you feel better- but hey, it’s there.” 

- && “Thinking about what you say before you say it is basic human decency 101 so yeah you should really get started when it comes to that” Nea suggested and then sighed. They didn’t want to be too harsh on the guy.. she could clearly see that he had regretted what he had said and the way he had said it. So they took a deep breath and focused on the moment, on the room and on the sounds around her instead of the growing anxiety in the pit of her stomach. 

He doesn’t thank Orion because he hadn’t asked out of courtesy; it was a polite announcement of his encroaching of the line he notices as Orion sits behind the desk. He approaches that line. David takes the seat with a motion of deliberateness, purposely beginning as the other man barely settles. The chair is drawn a slight and unnecessary distance away from the desk, making the unspoken - but quietly understood - gesture of someone who bears a premonitory something for whoever’s waiting. The blazer remains sharply folded on his lap under his notebook, sternly perched beneath a hand. Unhurried, but not for leaving. 

Lips press into a solemn hint of a smile with some tic of decency, “’Course.”

The sun slantly filters through the classroom’s windows, and rakes the shadows in their abundance, drawing them in outstretched parallels on the ground. The back of his chair’s shadow elongates, touching the handle to the classroom door as if to barricade them there. David draws a deciding breath, “I’ve spoken to other teachers- as to what I’m here to figure.” He offers the consolation of shared dread.

 “How familiar were you to Gregory Kane? I’m told he was also a student of yours,” what he’s been told means what could also be denied. “Dropout.” is what he describes the kid as and, “Missing-like?” 

- && When the other finally started to speak, he tilted his head to the side. "He was a student, yes. But like you said he dropped out of school. It happened around six months ago and I thought it was the oddest thing because he had great grades before then. It was like a switch had happened and from one day to the next he had become an entirely different person. He wasn't the bright and energetic student that he used to be and his grades started to fall more and more but before any of the teachers could organize a meeting with his parents.. he just dropped out" Orion said and frowned. 

Orion ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his seat. "He is missing?" he fell silent after a couple of seconds, gaze lowering to meet the floor. "I am sorry detective but that is all the information I have about Gregory. You should really ask my boss, the principal of the school if she has more information. Maybe she had the number to his parents or something like that?"

The man once again fell into a moment of silence, his mind going a thousand miles an hour. "None of this makes sense"