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A Step in a Direction

A Step in a Direction

How do I get out of here?

Where do I go from here?

They're sitting there, watching me, waiting for me to get up, to say something.

Can I run for the door? Where's the door at? Would I be fast enough?

I messed up. I broke down, I fell apart, I shattered the image of Io, and I had no idea what to do to recover, to get out of the place I was in.

I could feel them watching me. That crawling, heavy feeling, when you know someone is impatiently waiting for you to finish something you're doing.

Don't move, not a muscle, not an inch. Stay here, in this stillness, this curled up ball away from the s-, the lights, the noise, the chills in the air.

Maybe they'll leave. Maybe they'll walk away, never to be seen again, and you can pretend nothing ever happened.

No, I guess I knew better than that. I was a realist, of course, and I knew that wasn't going to happen. I'd have to look up eventually, face the effects of what I'd done.

What could I say? What excuse can I give? Can I say I'm joking? I guess it's too late for that now. I'm tired from work? But they see me at work, they know I do alright there. I'm sick? I guess I could say that. It would have some truth to it, which would make it more believeable. I could say I had a sudden headache, and that was why I freaked out.

Okay. Okay. I have a plan now, it'll be okay, I can fix this.

I looked up, put my hand on my helmet as if nursing a headache, and unmuted myself as subtle as I could manage.

"S-" I started, but had to cough to clear the scratchiness in my throat. "Sorry about that. I had a he- a, migraine... I get them every once in a while, really bad ones, they kind of knock me down when they happen, but it's better now. It's all good now."

For a while, it was quiet. I could hear people talking through the walls, and music was playing somewhere a few stories up. I wondered if it was from the park we'd left.

I was shivering. Didn't think it was that cold. My suit was supposed to keep me warm, but it didn't seem to be helping. I tried to hold still, to force myself to stop shaking, but I couldn't.

Long seconds passed with neither of us saying anything, but eventually, Ayer broke the silence.

"You're not used to wearing that helmet."

I froze a bit, surprised. Of all the things I'd expected to hear, that was not one of them.

"You reach up to touch your face, or rub your eyes, but then you realize it's there and put your hand down."

I remember thinking, did I make it that obvious? What else was obvious? What else was I doing wrong that I didn't even notice?

"You also hide your face, like you forget it's already hidden. You cover it with your arms, or turn away from people."

Like I was doing just before. It really must have been obvious. I was angry at myself, I should have done better, I should have been more aware of my own actions.

"Do you think that could be why you have your... migraines?"

Huh? I hadn't thought of that. That'd be a good excuse, if they'd believe it. I could go along with that.

"It might be." I said.

"You probably shouldn't wear your helmet anymore then, just to see if that'll help."

I stiffened. "No, I, I mean, I can't." Think of something, find a good excuse! "You're not allowed to take your helmet off, where I'm from... it's, uh, illegal."

"But you're not used to wearing your helmet?"

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I cursed mentally. "It's a new helmet. My old one was bigg- no, smaller. I mean, yes, smaller. And a different color too."

"That doesn't make any sense. And if you were used to wearing a helmet, it wouldn't make you sick. And besides, you've already taken your helmet off before."

I had nothing to say, so I just shrugged.

"Where are you from, Io?"

Cursing again. Where did that come from? Didn't they say something about that before? They said I seemed like I was from down South? Or East? Or West? It was one of the directions, and I'd agreed with them, but I can't remember... maybe they forgot too?

"The West."

"We're in the West."

"The other West. Farther West, but also a bit North, too."

"What? Just, tell me the name of the place. What city are you from? You can check your disease and illness history in the medical files, in case something in there can help you."

"Yea, I'll go check them after work tomorrow, that's a good idea."

They stared. I frantically tried to think of a city-sounding name, in case they asked again.

But they didn't. Instead, they said to me, "There are no diseases or illnesses. And there are no medical files. They don't exist."

"It must be new then-"

"If it was new the Quarantine would have caught it. And new diseases haven't existed anywhere for over three hundred years."

Impossible. They were trying to catch me at something, and I wasn't going to fall for it.

"What kind of joke is this?" I asked, standing up. "You think I'm lying to you? You think I'm making this up?" Angry, accusatory, try to turn it back on them, dodge the question, get out of there somehow anything you have to do.

"Where are you from, Io?" They asked again, not even standing, not even defensive. "Please, tell me so I can help you. You're not from here, I know that, and something tells me you don't want to be here either, so tell me the truth so I can help you get to where you need to be."

"It's too far."

"It doesn't matter how far it is."

"It's a different planet."

"I can still get you there."

"It's farther than you think."

"It doesn't matter."

"You won't belie-"

"I'll believe anything, Io, please just tell me."

Curse, curse, curse outloud!

"You say that, huh?" I said, angry again. "You say you'll believe anything? What if I told you it's all gone now, would you believe that? What if I told you it doesn't exist, would you believe that?

What if I told you I'm from somewhere you've never been to before, and can never go to?

What if I told you I'm from a city where everyones dead and gone?

What if I told you I've never even been twenty floors up before I came to this city?

What if I told you my name isn't even Io?

Would you believe me then? Would you believe any of that?

You shouldn't. Because none of it's true, it will never be true, and you just need to drop it because even if it were true, there's absolutely nothing you can do to help, so just let it die."

I glared at them through my helmet, hoping they'd finally drop it, get angry and storm away, yell at me for being a piece of trash, but they didn't do any of that.

They just cursed. Once, in a near whisper. My curse, the one I'd said before.

"2000." They said. "That's the year that word is from. Not exactly, but around then. Before 2050, at least."

"I-"

"What's your name?"

"Io."

"What's your real name?"

"It's Io."

"Your first name-"

"Just call me Io!"

"Io." They said, finally standing up to face me. "Are you from the year 2000?"

It was obvious. There was no point in hiding it, it was so obvious, clear as day, right in the open for anyone to see.

That's what I remember thinking. That it would be okay, because it was obvious. They already knew. It was already out. Already known.

I was trying to convince myself of that. I wanted to tell them. Not just about the year. About everything.

I knew, I knew with every sliver of common sense and past experience and every kind of logic I had in me, that I really, really should just shut my mouth and walk away.

I told them I wanted to see the stars. And where did that get me? Crying, in a stairwell, feeling worse than I'd let myself feel in all the time I'd been here.

I shouldn't have said anything.

That's how it's always been. Shut the hell up and stop making such a big deal about it. Stop talking, no one cares. It's not going to help, it's not going to make it better, all that's gonna happen is your gonna end up wishing you'd just kept your mouth shut, never brought it up, just left it alone and not try and make it someone elses problem.

It never works out the way I always think it will. It never makes it better.

I knew that. But I still wanted to talk. I wanted to not be alone. Because it hurt. It hurt and I didn't know how to make it stop. I didn't know what to do. Nothing was getting me anywhere. Nothing was working. Nothing was making me feel better. Nothing was getting me home.

I didn't want to feel like this anymore. I was desperate. I just wanted it to be better, be the way it used to be. I wanted to be home again. Leave this world behind, leave Io behind, and feel okay again.

I wanted to pretend I could feel okay again. I wanted to pretend it was possible.

It was cold. Not the jittery kind of cold, it was just cold. I wanted to be back home, with my blanket and my bed and my room. Even my dorm would be better than this place, with my irritable roommate and her clingy cousin.

I didn't want to say it. I wanted to say it. I wanted to shut my mouth and walk away. I wanted to break down and ask them what to do. I wanted them to leave me alone. I didn't want to be alone anymore. I wanted it to stop hurting. I wanted it to hurt less.

That was it. That was my final chance to look up, say a stern no, walk off, and never return.

It would have been easy.

But no. I had to be honest.

I had to keep staring at my feet. Keep standing in that cold stairwell. Keep fighting myself and the choice I knew was right.

And tell them.

"2018."

And sit down again in the stairwell, back on mute as I had been before.