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In a dimly lit room with stars at every corner, Three began to look around. This room belonged to One, who Three had killed a few days prior. She saw papers on the ground, scattered to who knows where, some fluff coming out of a chair with a red to blue hue, and a red notebook.
Three recognized this notebook instantly, it was hers. It was Three’s notebook. She had forgotten about it until it was right in front of her, she can’t remember the last time she even touched it. There was a thin layer of dust on it, she softly blew it away before taking the notebook into her cape.
Three kept it hidden when she got to fifteen’s cabin, she couldn’t bear for it to be taken away after she had just found it. She knew that whatever was in One’s dimension, the other algebraliens wanted to be destroyed. But Three wouldn’t let that happen. She wanted something of hers to be hers, not One’s, not Four’s, not anyone else’s. Hers.
She was tired of being this sharing person when nobody ever gave anything back to her. She was so, so, so, tired of it. She wanted to be herself, not somebody else. She wanted her own hair, her own clothes, her own love. Even after years of isolation, even after she grew to hate herself and everything about her, she wanted to be herself.
But something in the back of her mind always lingered. Would she end up like One if she steps out of the line? Would they do that to her? Three didn’t know, and she didn’t even know if she WANTED to test what would happen.
Trying to calm herself down, Three lied down next to One, or at least, what was left of her. Lying down next to blue pieces in water, Three begins to read her notebook.
She saw her drawings of the other algebraliens, her niche references to things that only she knew, the little happy faces she’d plaster on everything. Oh, how it made Three smile so wide, and cry so hard. She knew nothing would ever be the same, she knew, and so she wept. She cried silently, even if it felt like her heart was going to explode, even if it felt like she was going to yell until she physically couldn’t anymore, she stayed silent. And that’s what she usually did. Even back at the equation playground, she’d downplay her sorrows for the smallest misfortune of another. Even if she couldn’t be her old self, she could still cry like it. That brought her a moment of peace, knowing she is still like her old self, and yet she hated herself for it.
But she could ignore her sorrows one more time, after all, she wanted to see all the things she forgot about. She looked through her pages of drawings, and giggled at a few of her messed up ones.
Then she saw the yoylelite.
Three paused, her heart dropped. Next to her drawing, something blue was written, it was text. It read; “I wish it was just us.” Three felt something in her burn, her tears fell faster than she could breath. She felt sorry and frustrated at the same time. She knew that One was selfish, so why did this hurt her so bad? She decided to press on, she flipped the page to an odd checklist. On it had three checks, next to them was text, two with a question mark at the end. “Competition?” “Pocket dimension” “Containment?” However, at the bottom, large text was written; “MORE POWER.”
Even in her dire state, Three chuckled at this. It was half irony and half comfort. “More power? For what?” she thought to herself, she couldn’t think of anything. It couldn’t have been that it was for her, she only did that as a last ditch effort, One didn’t care about Three.
Nobody did.
Or at least, that’s what Three thought. She turned the page over, in there was a letter written by One…. to Three.
“I’ve been in here for about 5 days now, it’s hard to pass the time, but at least when I get out I can save you. That’s all I really want to do, I can’t even think straight when thinking about what I did to you. I’m so, so so sorry, Three. I really am. I just wish I didn’t lash out, everything was my fault after all. I’m so sorry.”
Three didn’t believe this. One had to be lying. She’s trying to hurt her again. Three grabbed a pen and was about to write something, but she hesitated. “Why?” She asked herself, “Why do all this, for me?” Three couldn’t find an answer, she didn’t want to either. Her hand grazed over the notebook as she carefully turned to the next page, blinking her eyes every now and then to make sure the notebook was real.
Another letter addressed to Three, this time with even more writing.
“I think it’s been a month or two since I last wrote here, it feels like time is passing by slower in the moon. It feels awful, but I know I deserve it for what I did to you, Three. I wish we could’ve hung out more, I wish I wasn’t such a horrible person, maybe then we could’ve been happy. I don’t think I was made to be happy, I don’t think I even can. I think you were the first time I ever experienced what ‘happiness’ was, and I just hurt you for it. I don’t want you to blame yourself, after all, I believe you’re perfect. I know you meant your best, and I wish we could’ve stayed friends longer, but we can’t, and we never will now.”
Three could feel her grip on the notebook tighten as her heart began to beat faster and faster, tears falling down from her face like a waterfall. Her sniffles echoed throughout the empty cabin, she could hear video game sounds coming from far away, she was thankful that they seemingly blocked out her silent cries.
Again, Three flipped the page. On it were two badly drawn characters holding hands, Three chuckled at the mediocre drawings until she realized they looked oddly similar. She turned back a few pages and her suspicion was correct, they were two characters that Three liked and drew in her notebook often. As she turned the page back to One’s, she saw that One had drawn little smiley faces like she used to do. Three flipped to the next page, and the next, and the next.
Over and over, it was those two characters that she had drawn back then. One would draw them in different outfits, with different poses, she would draw it all. Three felt something in her chest, she didn’t know if it was love or anger. The other algebraliens didn’t care about these two characters that meant the world to her, but One caught on so quickly and began to draw them and come up with ideas. Some of these ideas even were thought up by Three in her mind.
As Three skimmed through the papers quickly, she paused at a page. It was a drawing of Three, both of her eyes intact, her curly hair flowing in the invisible wind within the art, her smile wider than anything. Three didn’t know what to think, everything was happening too fast. She turned the page, another drawing of her. It was of her current look, and she seemed to be beautiful in Ones’ eyes. Three used to hate herself, but she wants to be herself even more now. Not because of One, but because she wants to just be her.
She slowly walked over to the place that had One’s pieces inside, and began to pick a piece up. Three put it close to her heart, and then kissed the piece she was holding. She put it back in the tub, and smiled.
I guess someone did care about her.