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Abbie wasn’t okay. His stuttering had increased, his words would slur, his movements erratic. Something happened a week ago.
In all honesty, he shouldn’t be alive.
Lana isn’t sure he’s even happy he’s alive. Something happened.
Currently, he was asleep in her arms. His sobbing was gone. Abbie was quiet. Lana was so, so scared for him. All she could get from the wailing boy were “eyes, watching” and “she is she is she is she is”. Lana couldn’t understand. Something happened.
Her sock puppet hands attempted to comb through his hair. The googly eyes were drooping, also worried for him. His frame shook against her, even in her sleep.
Lana recalls hearing Miss Bloomie ramble on not unlike his, but more of rage than of fear.
But most importantly, Abbie will be okay. Lana wants to be sure. Like the corpse holding the fungus, the fire tearing down the old bushes, the sun setting so the moon can wax and wane, Abbie will be okay. Even if she doesn't know what she talks about a lot of the time. Even if she cries when she thinks no one is looking, because her problems are miniscule compared to everyone else's, and her friends should come first. Even if she wants to be someone else's first, she doesn't deserve that.
The girl with sock puppets could feel a lump in her throat. Choking her, making her tear up. She didn't let herself wail, sob. It's not her turn. It may never be her turn. All she wants is to help Abbie feel better. She is his friend. He deserved at least that for putting up with her, because she is a burden. That's what she'll always be. The burden may change, my grow, may shrink, but no matter how short you cut grass it's still grass.
Abbie started to mumble in her hold, and she relaxed to let him breathe. “What is it, Abbster?” She questioned softly.
“The obelisks. She is the obelisks.” there! A connection!
It's okay, she's not here. No. She can't say that. That's not empathy. She wants to be empathetic. She took classes on this, please please let her stop hurting everything. “I…I'm here for you. I don't know what you're feeling, but I want to help, Abbie. Please.” Lana felt awful for trying to push out more information out of the obviously scared boy for her own desperate curiosity. She felt like a
tall child.
She cradled the sniffling boy, as he nuzzled into her puppets. “I'm here, Abbie. I'm here.” She kept mumbling, as he looked up at her with so much love in his eyes. The love of an old man looking at his best friend, a dog to its owner, a teen to his buddy. Love. They loved each other, so much. It bubbled out of their hearts and spread into their other friends.
In the sea of murky black, they could look to each other as the stars.
Even if Abbie was rambling about some girl named Alice, how she was always watching, his whimpers soon softened under Lana’s humming. His eyes focused, and he tucked his face into her neck.
Lana knows Abbie will break down again. She knew he would be scared again. Next time, next time, she will catch him as he falls, as he has held her when she fell herself.
She has to try, even if she is filled with doubt and fear. Sure, she can be headstrong sometimes, but she knows that it's but a facade. Put in front of a real, terrifying situation, she'll crumble and run. Lana has to try. She'll do it for Abbie, because she can't do it for herself. She'll do it for Bubble, for Claire, for Engel, for Miss Sasha.
She won't do it for herself.