ZEPH

I couldn’t sleep one bit that night. It was as if hearing Javier’s name being said out loud sent something spiraling inside of me. I’ve thought of him plenty since he died, it sometimes feels like not a single day passes by without I think about him, and my body never just stops like it did when Erika said his name. It’s been four years since he died, I know I should be over him by now, I should have laid him to rest in his grave. I guess I am just bad at letting go. It seems as though it's very easy for people to get into my heart, but near impossible to then get out. I still think about Morrigan, even though we only dated for a few years. She was the first real girlfriend I had ever had, and I still love her just as much as I did back then.

If it’s true that I can’t let go of people, that must mean my amnesia is a blessing. Unlike everyone else in the Organization, I don't remember my life as it was before I figured out I wasn't human. All the others remember their families, where they grew up, what they wanted to be. Erika told me about her life in Jacksonville with her brothers and single mother, Shira won't shut up about how her and her sister used to bake these cakes that she can't remember the taste of anymore. While all my friends look back at their past with wanting and excitement, I just look back at nothing. My earliest memory is looking up at the sky, hearing a voice demanding that I wake up, and then turning my head to see Javier standing in front of me.

Javier tried to help me piece back my mind. He told me that he had just found me lying there on the ground, sleeping with a knife in my hand. No matter how many questions he asked me about my past, I always just came up empty. I just felt empty, empty, empty.

Javier gave me a name, he gave me a mission, a dream. There was a long while where the only thing I had was Javier, then we started filling that hole inside of me with loud music and houses filled with people. We started filling that hole inside of me with kisses and alcohol. It was the sixties and we were free. We would play gods for the day, then find each other in the night where we once again became just two human boys with broken souls. He would always tell me that life was endless, and I believed him every single time until he died. Javier’s corpse was the first dead body I ever saw in my too long life. It’s funny how he always managed to be my first, even if he didn’t mean to.

After spending two hours sobbing into my pillow, I decided that I should properly do something more productive. I get up and take the elevator to the kitchen, wanting to fill that newly found emptiness inside of me with food or maybe a drink. Just for old times sake.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

I didn’t expect to find anybody up at this ungodly hour, but I am not even surprised when I see Lynn eating cereal by the table.

He looks over at me and I am unable to read his face. Lynn just has one of those faces where it always looks like he is angry. It took me a while to realize that it's just the way he looks.

“No,” He said simply.

“What?” I replied, trying to smile but failing. “Is a man not allowed to enjoy some leftovers after midnight?”

“Not if it's you,” He said, then. “I think I am going to throw up if I smell your chicken right now”

“Please?” I beg, holding the little container with roasted chicken. “I’ll even go sit in the couches if you just let me have my chicken”

Lynn looks away from me, and I can feel him rolling his eyes. It makes me smile a bit. The whole fight we have going on is very stupid in my opinion. Thing is I love chicken, it’s got the right texture and taste, it’s versatile cooking and it’s healthier than pork or beef. I have a habit of eating it at almost every meal, but that doesn’t mean I just always eat plain roasted chicken like I did today. No, I make sure to always spice it up. Chicken soup, butter chicken, chicken in my tacos and chicken in my lasagna. The others don't care about my strange eating habit, except Lynn of course.

Lynn is of the strong belief that chicken is linked to an early death or at least a very bad stomach. Plus, he just has a thing with real chickens too. Beside being the best of us to control water, Lynn can also transform himself into any animal of his liking. It’s very useful for spying and fighting, but he also uses this power in the Pyramid. His favorite animal to become is the wolf, which I think is very emo of him. After a wolf, it’s a chicken. I have no idea why he likes being a chicken as much as he does. When he is a chicken he usually just lays on a couch, looking like a ball of feathers with only the beak sticking out.

I wondered, not for the first time, if Lynn would be just as mad if I started eating wolf meat.

“Just sit down, Zeph” Lynn said. “But try to at least eat it quickly and quietly”

“Of course, dude!” I exclaimed, patting Lynn on the back as I sat down.

We fell back into silence, me eating leftovers and him staring at his now empty cereal bowl. I leave as soon as I am finished, wanting to find someplace quiet and train, or maybe go back to crying, or maybe a mixture of both. As I leave, I can feel Lynn watching me, and I regret that I didn’t try to tell him about my problems, even though I highly doubt he’d care.