lost_boy | (no subject)

I am ok. Both hands still here. Thank you for everything.

It seemed so dumb, but I had sent some variation of that text message to everyone I had seen on the Island, wanting them all to know I was safe and whole and that I appreciated everything they had done for me. Thank you really didn't seem like enough, it didn't even come close, but I was too exhausted to think of anything more.

I kept looking at and touching my right hand. After it had happened, I remembered thinking I was owed the injury somehow, that the Island had been waiting for me to come back so it could finish what it had started before I ended up in Darrow, but here I was and my hand was exactly where it used to be. With my left hand, I traced a line around my wrist, following the wound I knew should have been there, but wasn't.

Briefly, I squeezed my eyes closed, shutting them as tight as possible, and when I opened them again, I climbed off my bed and grabbed my coat. My legs felt strange and shaky, but I couldn't do this. I couldn't just sit in my room and stare at the hand I had lost and wonder what it all meant.

The Island was behind me now. I had to leave it there.

I sent additional messages to Elio and to Eddie. I knew Eddie was staying there until he was back in his regular body and it made sense, but I didn't want to be at the Home without him. Right now, he and Elio were the only people I thought I could see without bursting into tears. I wanted to see them all eventually, but not yet. I needed a few days to collect myself first.

Without waiting for an answer from either of them, I grabbed my backpack, shoved in a few extra sets of clothes, my toothbrush, and my bus pass. I left without telling anyone where I was going and took the bus straight to Elio and Oliver's place.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I knocked out his teeth once," I said as I settled against Eddie's side. He wasn't any taller than I was, but he was still bigger and it felt nice, leaning against him. "Not long before I came here, I hit him so hard I knocked out several of his teeth and they were so small and pearly white. He still has his baby teeth."

I had lost mine long ago. Maybe some of them even before the Island, but I couldn't remember.

"I think I hate him less," I admitted after a quiet moment. "I think I feel kind of sorry for him."

"Gross," Eddie muttered, thinking about Peter's creepy smile, with its tiny little teeth and pink gums. He imagined that mouth bloody— bloody from Jamie's fists, and it actually made him feel a little better.

"He cut off your fucking hand, I don't think you have to feel too sorry for him."

"I know," I said. "And I don't feel that sorry for him that I'm not still angry about the things he did. He still killed Sal and tried to kill Charlie and would have killed all of you if given half the chance. I don't think he's a good person, I just think... well, he was made that way. The Island made him or he made the Island, but in the end they're the same."

I was quiet for a moment, trying to work out what I meant, and then I exhaled slowly as I figured it out.

"He's going to be there forever, Eddie. Peter never gets to leave that Island. They belong to each other. He'll stay there and he'll think he's the king of that world, but it's such a small world. A world he controls. He's never going to get to do anything good. He's never going to grow up, he's never going to go to school or learn to drive or kiss a girl. Or a boy. He's never going to fall in love." I shook my head. "Isn't that sad?"

"Maybe he doesn't deserve to," Eddie said, and it might've been a cruel, unfair thing to believe, but he thought that there had to be some people that were just bad, no matter what. He didn't want to have sympathy for someone who was so awful. He didn't want to think of him as a victim, when he'd kept so many boys helpless and small, only to discard them when they stopped being useful.

"You're a really good person, Jamie," he said, chest aching as he reached up to brush Jamie's hair from his forehead.

Edited 2019-12-16 00:49 (UTC)

Eddie was most likely right, I knew, and Peter didn't deserve to have anything more than what he already did. He would never know any different, he would never think he was missing out on anything, and somehow that was both the saddest part and the most infuriating. I wasn't as good as Eddie thought, because sometimes I wanted Peter to understand everything he would never get to have. I wanted him to see it and hurt because of it.

But I smiled, looking up at Eddie, my grin crooked and boyish. As long as Eddie thought I was a good person, I knew I would continue to want to be. Not just for him, not just for my friends, but for myself, too. I was happier this way. Some days my anger still felt too big for my body, but for the most part, I was just happy.

"If you think so, then I think I can, too," I said and I knew I wasn't supposed to kiss him, but I dropped my head and pressed a kiss to his shoulder through the layers of his clothes.