Silent Ground: Part 1 Read online

  Or recently… the strange way he’d stumbled upon quelling them.

  Sasha scratched his left arm, covered in a long sleeve plaid button-down. He looked around, desperate to change the subject; anything to get the attention off of him.

  When his mind blanked out, offering him nothing but a look of pity, Sasha decided to bring up what had happened at the store. “I, ah…” Sasha began, then finally he found some words. “One of your friends recognized me, the guy you were planning that party with. He said Saturday at nine…” Sasha sat back down onto the couch and picked up Friskie the cat. Cats were a great distraction for awkward situations; they gave you something to look at, and something to do with your hands so you wouldn’t fidget.

  “Really? Sweet!” Jobe said happily, his pensive attitude disappearing as quickly as it had come. Sasha heard the fridge door open and he glanced over to see Jobe putting away a six pack of Diet Pepsi––Well, a four pack now, considering he had one in each hand. He gave one to Sasha and sat down, his brown eyes, framed by curly black hair with red streaks, shining with excitement. “I’ve been dying to get us all together. Now we can just meet and know the other ones exist, you know? Now that I’m all graduated and adulty… it’s hard to meet other gay boys, and our town being so small doesn’t help.”

  Sasha shrunk down at this, and his ears began to burn. The two most important people in his life were gay: Jobe and Uncle Lex, but meeting other people like him was kind of terrifying. He’d never had a boyfriend; he’d never even had sex. He didn’t know which one scared him the most.

  “You’re going to come with me, right?” Jobe asked, a look of hope on his face that seemed to ignore everything Jobe knew about his friend.

  Sasha couldn’t shake his head fast enough. Jobe laughed lightly at this and took a drink of his pop. He opened his mouth to say more, but before he got the chance, there was a knock on the interior door of Sasha’s apartment.

  “Sexy Lexy!” Jobe exclaimed. The door opened and Sasha glanced up to see his uncle walking in with a smile that matched the radiance of Jobe’s.

  Lex, as Jobe always pointed out, looked like an older version of his nephew (but not too old. Lex would be the first person to remind one of that fact). He had dark green eyes and hair that tumbled past his ears and flipped up in a half-curl. They also shared the same triangle-shaped face, though Lex’s wasn’t as gaunt as Sasha’s, and he was usually sporting a small goatee. However, if he was feeling adventurous, or wanted to impress a date, he’d add a moustache.

  The differences between the two weren’t only health-wise, which was obvious from the dark circles under Sasha’s eyes, Lex also obsessively took care of himself. He had plucked and shaped eyebrows, a keen sense of fashion, and he had a charisma to him that had every gay friend hanging off of his arm and exploding in a fit of giggles whenever they got a wink. The only thing that seemed flawed on Lex’s body, was a faint silver scar that ran down his right cheek, from his eye to his jawbone, but even that scar made him look more distinguished.

  Sasha… Sasha wasn’t that; he wasn’t Lex. His personal hygiene was up to snuff, and he wore clean clothes, but that was about as far as he took it. Even the clothes Sasha wore were old and ratty. It took until his clothes were falling off for him to replace them. It was another weird attachment issue that Sasha seemed to have, he felt badly for throwing them out. The clothes had been a part of his every day life for so long, it was hard to let go.

  At least Jobe had helped in that regard. He’d suggested Sasha snip off a small piece of the clothing in question for him to keep in his sock drawer. That way he could still remember the clothes he had, but could also get new ones.

  ‘You’re so pathetic,’ the voice in his head chuckled. ‘Attachment to cloths and a clock? Do you ever just take a step back and look at yourself?’

  Sasha winced as the angry voice echoed in his head and distracted himself with a drink of his Diet Pepsi.

  “What was that twitch for?” Lex suddenly asked, his tone alert in a way that suggested he’d been looking for something out of place with his nephew. “What’s going on?”

  Sasha burned on the spot under both Lex and Jobe’s gazes, as if their eyes were magnifying glasses and he was a small ant.

  “Just… what I mentioned,” Sasha said, his voice as small and timid as he could possibly make it. His skull felt like it was being dipped in molten lava, and that hot liquid was spreading rapidly to the rest of his face.

  “The voice…?” Lex closed the distance between the two of them and knelt down in front of Sasha. “Are they yelling at you?”

  The voice…

  Sasha stared at the carpet on the floor, wishing he could make himself invisible. He regretted every day telling his uncle about the raspy, hissing voice that he had been hearing for the past two years. The relentless demon inside of his head that never missed an opportunity to remind Sasha that he was fucked up, that he was different from everyone else, a weirdo, a… a… crazy freak.

  ‘A fucking loser?’

  Just a socially retarded recluse who’s afraid to go out in public alone, who hated being around anyone who wasn’t Jobe or his uncle, and who had to be pulled out of school and homeschooled due to the crippling anxiety of going to class.

  ‘Who was a burden on his uncle and Jobe–– just a pity case. They’re forced to take care of you and they hate it.’

  “Sash?” Lex dropped his tone. “What’s he saying to you? Do you… do you want to reconsider seeing a psychiatrist?” Lex glanced over at Jobe and their gazes met; they shared a look of deep worry before both turning back to Sasha.

  Sasha shook his head, trying to hide the choke when he realized it was getting difficult to breathe. “No,” he whispered, drowning in humiliation and embarrassment. Fuck, he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. Jesus fucking christ. “Can we not talk about it? I… I had a long day.”

  Lex let out a sigh, and a second exchange of glances happened between the two. This one lasted longer though, and finally ended with the two of them sharing a mutual nod. “Okay,” Lex said and patted Sasha’s knee. “Just… I know someone and he’s interested in talking to you.”

  Sasha looked up, his dark green eyes filled with terror, but Lex raised both of his hands in a pleading gesture. “Sasha, I’d be a really shitty uncle if I didn’t do something about this. I can’t just keep giving you Xanax to help you function. What if it just takes some medication to have the voices go away? And, who knows, what if it’s triggering your anxiety too?”

  “You said the voices are always demeaning you, it could very well be,” Jobe chimed in. “I think you should talk to him, Sasha. We – we’re really worried about you, baby.”

  Jobe’s words hung in the air before fading into the awkward tension that their direct comments had injected into the space they all shared. Sasha could feel their eyes burrowing into him, analyzing every word that came from his lips, every movement he made. He hated the fact that there were two of them and only one of him–– they were always ganging up on him.

  And always putting pressure on Sasha to go see a psychiatrist or a doctor. It wasn’t like he was in denial that something was wrong with his head, but the thought of opening up and telling some stranger was just out of the question.

  “I’m okay,” Sasha said, and because he could feel just how worried those two were, he forced a smile. “I’ve even been able to manage the migraines lately, and the voice… it’s not like he’s telling me to go run in front of a bus. It’s just… a byproduct of me… of my anxiety, that’s all.” Now it was his turn to search their faces, to see if his words had calmed down their worries.

  Sasha hated how much he worried them––he wasn’t worth it.

  Lex’s mouth twitched to the side, but Jobe was still staring.

  “I’ve… been feeling a lot better lately,” Sasha continued, trying to stifle down the stammer. It wasn’t the truth, of course it wasn’t, but there were strings of honesty in the web of lies; h
e had found a way to manage his migraines. “Can’t we just… talk about something else? You guys always gang up on me.”

  Lex breathed out a huff of air from his nose. “You really have been feeling better?” he asked. His words were cautious, like someone had told him there were no more landmines but he still didn’t believe it was safe to cross

  Sasha nodded. “I went to the store by myself, bought groceries, and even talked to someone. Jobe’s friend. I’m fine, no need to go all paranoid mother on me.” Sasha got up and headed to the kitchen for another piece of the frozen pizza.

  “Then why don’t you go to my and Dave’s party on Saturday?” Jobe suddenly asked behind him.

  Sasha snorted at this. “Yeah, no.” His stomach scrunched at the thought. He grabbed the piece of pizza and turned around.

  “I think meeting other gay guys would be a great thing for you,” Lex said, a look of hope on his face, like it was actually in the realm of possibility that Sasha might actually go. “Yeah, you’re going to go.” He slapped his knees, like a judge’s gavel hitting the block, and stood up. “I’ll even give you some money so you can buy yourself some nice clothes. Sign him up, Jobe. Sasha’s going.”

  Frozen claws of horror grasped Sasha’s heart, but then, as if remembering that he was nineteen, he shook his head and gave out a dry laugh. “Over my dead and decaying body,” he said, and took a bite from his pizza. “And you can’t make me go.”

  He expected a look of frustration to come over his uncle’s face, but his eyes only narrowed when Lex flashed him a cocky grin. The cold claws squeezing Sasha’s heart quickly morphed itself into unease and he found a knot forming in his throat.

  “I’ll make a deal with you, Sasha…”

  Oh boy… The chewed food sat in Sasha’s mouth like a bulging lump as Lex crossed his arms over his chest, the fucking cocky little shiteater smirk still on his face.

  When Lex had that expression, nothing good ever came next.

  Ever.

  “If you go…” Lex said, his voice almost singy. “Two hundred off rent, but if you don’t go… it’s going up two hundred.” And as he said this last part, he flashed Sasha a grin.

  But Sasha wasn’t grinning, and while Lex basked in his cleverness, Sasha felt an overwhelming terror hit him like he’d just been punched in the stomach. He stumbled back, steadying himself on the counter, and began to feel dizzy.

  “You – you can’t do that…” Sasha stammered anxiously. He swallowed hard, a frigid sweat beginning to slick his forehead. He received a set amount of money every month from his father’s life insurance. It was eight hundred and fifty-five dollars and five hundred of that went to Lex every month. Rent also included cable, dial-up (though Sasha couldn’t afford a computer), heat, hot water, and electricity, plus Lex had him over for dinner often.

  But if he was going to jack it up to seven… he’d barely have enough money for food that month, let alone enough money to afford his Xanax, over-the-counter pain relief, weed, things like toilet paper, shavers––He wouldn’t have enough.

  Unable to handle the influx of panic, Sasha quickly walked to the bathroom, the tightness in his chest having him worried he was approaching an anxiety attack. While Sasha opened the medicine cabinet, he was surprised and grateful to hear Jobe’s angry voice in the living room.

  Then Jobe walked into the bathroom, looking more than just a little annoyed at Lex. He closed the bathroom door behind him, and watched sadly as Sasha chewed the small blue pill, before washing it down with some water.

  “Don’t even…” Sasha said, his voice strained. “I…” His teeth clenched and he wiped a hand down his face.

  Jobe sighed and rubbed Sasha’s shoulders. “He wouldn’t do that, hun. You know Lex wouldn’t be that much of an asshole. He’s just trying to… you know, motivate you.” Another sigh, and Jobe glanced behind his shoulder, even though the bathroom door was closed. “I have an idea to make him happy…” Jobe dropped his tone. “How about you pretend to come, and you can stay in the car. Or maybe I can drop you off to see a movie, or something. Gladiator is still being shown in theaters, and you wanted to go see X-Men, too. Didn’t that come out?”

  Sasha adjusted his feet and scratched the back of his neck. He wanted to shoot down Jobe’s idea, but he also didn’t want to be a pain in the ass. Jobe did a lot for him, and one of Sasha’s greatest fears was that he’d one day get fed up with him.

  So, Sasha reached down inside of himself and pulled out the little specks of bravery he had, then nodded. “Yeah, I – I’ll wait in the car…” The notion was already throwing fuel on the fires of panic that burned in his chest, but he held onto that bravery and forced himself to continue nodding. “I’ll… b-bring a book.”

  Jobe’s smile was so bright, Sasha couldn’t help but smile too. And when his friend threw his arms around him with an enthusiastic yaaay, Sasha laughed with him. “Does it really mean this much to you?” Sasha asked, a tinge of red coming to his cheeks.

  “Yes!” Jobe pulled away from him. “You… baby, you have no idea how much I worry about you. I just want you to be happy.” The bright smile faded, as did the glint of joy in his eyes. “You seem sad.”

  This again… It was an on-going thing, constant and relentless. There was rarely a time when Sasha didn’t feel constantly watched, constantly judged by them.

  What the hell was happiness anyway? If he wasn’t grinning like a retard and jumping from bar to bar, party to party, or having a billion friends he was miserable? Jobe and Lex refused to believe that Sasha was just fine being by himself, and that he wasn’t sitting alone in his apartment crying and cripplingly lonely. And what was worse…

  …what was worse was that they used to think it was because Sasha hated himself for being gay. And when Sasha finally convinced them that he was okay with it, they assumed it was because he didn’t have a boyfriend, then it was because he wasn’t fulfilled in his life and should go out and get a job.

  Now… now they had homed in on the social anxiety, and were attacking him as viciously as Sasha’s panic attacks. It didn’t help that he disliked going out and enjoyed his own company, to Jobe and Lex, it just confirmed their own suspicions.

  “I’m not sad,” Sasha said. “I keep telling you… I’m fine.” He leaned over and opened the bathroom door, Jobe got the hint and left, and Sasha followed.

  “He’s going,” Jobe said. “Two hundred off of rent. Deal?”

  Lex beamed at this, a smug smile like he’d achieved something grand. Sasha ignored it and sat back down on the couch. “I knew you’d sway him, Jo.” He put a hand on Sasha’s head and shook it playfully back and forth. “You can load up on Xanax beforehand. You’ll have fun Sasha, and who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new.”

  That night Sasha sat alone in his room, his stomach twisting around like an animal attempting to wiggle itself out of a trap. Sleep hadn’t come to him yet, and with the shivers of anxious adrenaline ripping up and down his body, as if they were using his bloodstream as a highway, he knew he was in for another night of insomnia.

  ‘Everyone will stare at you… sitting in the car like some pathetic child being left behind while his dad went into the bar for a drink. One look at you and they’ll know you’re too much of a loser to go inside.’

  Sasha curled up in his bed and stared up at his ceiling. The ceiling was covered in glow-in-the-dark stars, and little glowing planets too. Last year, Jobe had snuck into Sasha’s room while he was on his uncle’s side of the house and had rearranged some of the stars to make a happy face. Sasha had found it endearing, so he’d kept them up.

  He looked at these stars and reached a hand up to tap each one with is fingers. Many times had he counted them, there were sixty-three in total, and ten planets. Sometimes he’d add more or take some away, just to give himself a reason to count them again.

  Sasha sighed. There was so much on his mind, thousands of thoughts running rampant, wielding small swords to slice away at the weak strands of
bravery he had. He was already regretting saying he’d go to the party, but that was no surprise. At night was when all of his insecurities rose to the surface like bloated corpses submerged in a lake.

  Why am I like this?

  During the day, especially when Jobe and Lex ganged up on him, he defended his anti-social lifestyle with vengeance, swearing up and down that he was fine and there was nothing wrong with him. But then darkness fell, the house got quiet, and in the tranquility and twilight his insecurities reigned supreme. And even though there was darkness all around him, the self-doubts seemed to glow bright, feeding merrily on self-derision and inner contempt. Two things that Sasha always had an abundance of.

  When will I become normal? Sasha sat up in bed and hugged his pillow to his chest. He tried to ignore the dull throbbing that was starting to make itself known behind his eyes, the tell-tale sign that a migraine was coming. When they’d first come, Sasha had assumed they were from stress and Lex had agreed with him, but now the migraines were just getting worse. And the older he got, the more intense the pain.

  Another low throb, like someone was sitting behind his eyes with one hand on his eyeballs, and one hand on his brain. At first, it felt like the person was just gently putting pressure on each ocular, but as the pain grew, the pressure followed, and soon it was more like the man inside of his head had a hammer.

  Is that who you are? Sasha asked the cruel voice inside of his head. Just someone inside of my skull bashing me from the inside out? Shouting fucking insults to the beat of the throbbing pain?

  There was no answer, but Sasha wasn’t expecting one.

  Or maybe the voice did answer in its own subtle way, because the steady pain behind Sasha’s eyes started to get worse. And like it was a snowball being rolled down a hill, it grew and grew quickly, until a full-blown migraine hit.

  For the last two years, when Sasha was hit with these intense and debilitating headaches, he’d just lay in bed in complete darkness and wait for them to go away; usually after swallowing as much Tylenol and Motrin as his body could take. But once he realized the pills weren’t helping, he turned to NyQuil and Xanax to help conk himself out until they dissipated on their own.