Running With Scissors

I'm sitting on a couch, looking down into a mug on steaming coffee when I realize pain isn't a feeling; it's an absence of feeling. In fact, it's a numbness. That's what I feel- Numb. Like my hands, for example, which are cupping a steaming hot cup of coffee but feel nothing but air between my hands. Like my face, which is in the path of the steam yet oddly spaced out. It's like I'm not even here. The furnice in Jayde's house is not keeping me warm. The frost against the window isn't reminding me of feel cold. I'm numb. I am filled with so much pain that I feel as if I had escaped the Titanic and now I'm floating in the freezing waters only waiting to die; wanting to.

Jayde is sitting across from me in a chair of her own, caressing the side of her coffee mug with her thumb. I pretend I can't see every awkward glance she sends my way. She's trying to think of something to say. She thinks I feel guilty, she thinks I feel ashamed. It makes me think I'm stupid because she's so good at thinking. I watch her open her mouth as if to speak, but she quickly changes her mind and looks back at her cup. I am, however, not as stupid as I think I am. I know this because I know that Jayde is only doing this because she feels guilty herself. Guilty for yelling at me; guilty for blaming me.

"You know," she says finally. "I... I didn't mean all those things I said earlier."

"Don't say you're sorry, Jayde- It makes you sound pathetic."

"Well, I sound pathetic no matter what I say, so it doesn't make a difference," she states and crosses her arms as she looks away.

"No- Jayde, you were right earlier. I was gone a really long time- I may have lost the priveledge to talk to people, but I've been rebellious my entire life- It shouldn't have been an exeption."

"But it was for your own good- You know that."

"Oh yea? Well if wasn't for anyone elses good, was it," I asked tearfully as I hid my eyes behind my hair. However, Jayde is smart and either noticed my hands shaking, or my skin tone change.

"Ace- It was Angel's choice to do what he did," she said sencerely, reaching her hand out to cautiously touch my shoulder as she inched closer to me. "No one could have done anything to help him. He knew we were all here to listen. He missed you a lot, but he never judged you once. He worried about you so much..."

I started choking like a little child, covering my face with my hands. "But I should have been here! I should have been here to talk to him... I didn't even get to say goodbye..."

"Yes you did," she stated. "That day at the airport. That was a good goodbye- Ace, nobody wants to have a tearful goodbye. I would have taken yours over mine anyday, the last time you saw him, he was happy and cheerful. He was more worried about you. We all were- Ace, we thought you were dead..."

I didn't make eye-contact with her. I felt sick. My stomach was churning and I was beginning to feel anxious again. "Uh," I started. "I think... I'm just gonna go."

"What? Why?"

"I think I just need some sleep," I explained and got up as I grabbed my jacket as my hands began to shake. "I'm going to go back to the hotel or something..."

"You can stay here," she said quickly, grabbing my arm as I reached for the door handle. "There's a spare bedroom in the back... That is, if you want. Please, just stay."

I sighed, looking around the appartment before looking into her pleading eyes. They didn't hypnotize me. They didn't need to. "Fine," I said, running my fingers through my hair before looking at her again.

She smiled. "Thank you."