And I'm Not Sleeping Now

[Maraoone]

((Juhan Levandi and Takeshi Yoshikawa continue from So, How Was Your Day?))

Juhan had been so exhausted that by the time he woke up from his little nap, the sun was setting already. He still didn't feel well. He placed a hand on his neck and felt that it was warmer than usual. His head was getting heavy, and his vision blurred out for a bit as soon as he stood up. Figured that he'd get a fever soon enough. Between the lack of sleep and constant journeys across the island, the fact that he hadn't gotten sick earlier was a miracle.

At least, there was a bright spot. He didn't need to worry about his supplies anymore. Sure, he was down to four high-energy bars, and his bread and crackers had gone stale. He'd need to go raid some store in the next couple of days. But the most important thing was water, and thankfully, the faucets still worked here.

Still wiping the sleep from his eyes, Juhan and his group discussed their plans for the night. Each of them would take watch while the other two slept. It was for protection purposes. Also to wait for Bella. It didn't really make sense for them to expect her just traipsing around the island at 2 AM, but a lot of stuff that had happened didn't really make sense. Maybe more than half the book club was killed or killing. That didn't make sense. Almost a week after they were placed on this island, this island with malls and roller coasters and nuclear plants, they were still here and the authorities had no idea where they were. That didn't make sense. So compared to all that, maybe waiting for Bella wasn't that crazy of a decision.

For Juhan, Bella was just lost. She didn't abandon them. She didn't get captured or killed. It was impossible. She just wandered off. And they'd wait for her here at the hotel, where they agreed that they'd meet. That was it. It was more idealistic than the other options, therefore, it was the truth.

Like before, he went to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. And now it was his turn to take watch.

When Takeshi went to sleep, Juhan walked into the bathroom. Before closing the door, Juhan decided to look at himself in the mirror. It occurred to him that he hadn't actually seen himself since he left home. What he saw wasn't exactly pretty. His face in particular could've used some sprucing up. His forehead and cheeks were dotted with mosquito bites. His eyes were red and puffy, and his lips were covered in black dots. Probably clots. Also, the wound on his knee would probably become a scar. If he stayed alive long enough to let it heal.

It was something he preferred to keep off his mind. The full gravity of it had hit him immediately after he discovered the bodies at the beach, and lingered over him well past that. It was a cloud that loomed over him as he found Ian, and it combined with many other problems, like Bella, and the others that he'd been dealing with since day 1. It was too much. Illusion was better than reality. Ignorance was bliss. Of course, he could never fully ignore his situation. It would be selfish, and it would get him killed sooner. There were too many reminders for him to forget. The fact that whenever he reached for an itch on his neck, his fingers would be met by metal. The fact that, if he moved his hand across his body, he'd feel his ribs and hips jutting out, more than they had before. Another reminder of the hardships the island brought him. The fact that every morning, without fail, loudspeakers would blare, announcing the names of the fallen as if it's merely sports commentary. And maybe it's merely a sport to them.

He closed the door, pushing those thoughts out of his mind. He replaced it with something, anything. Juhan was perfecting distracting himself with something else, making it an art. What should he think about instead? His favorite songs. There, that would be better. Something by Bruno Mars, his songs were almost always happy. No, not Grenade. Too dark. Marry You. That's the perfect song.

While humming this tune, he had difficulty taking his clothes off. Despite the cool climate, his shirt still stuck to him. His skin felt clammy and sticky. When he rubbed it, he'd feel dirt rolling up under his fingers. It was disgusting, to be honest. So, he turned on the shower, and immediately, his mind went blank.

In his stories, Juhan always described jumping into cold water as something that brings clarity. That puts things back into focus. As it turns out, that was completely false. The cold overwhelmed all of his thoughts, putting him into shock. His fever made it worse. After a mere 30 seconds of this, he turned it off, his arms frozen into crooks. Every single move made his entire body shudder. Every slight breeze made his teeth chatter, He shivered while stumbling around the restroom, hastily pulling on his new set of clothes. Shame he didn't think to bring some jacket. A T-shirt and shorts were too inadequate for this weather.

---

As Takeshi and Ian rested on beds in their little shelter, high above the rest of the island, Juhan paced back and forth across the pitch-black room, careful to avoid tripping or bumping into the walls. It helped him think and relax, sort of. His legs were restless. While doing this, he picked at his lips, reopening old wounds and drawing blood. His mouth felt dry from licking so much of that blood. It was a bad habit of his that had started coming back more and more over the past week. Anything to help stave off the anxiety would help.

It was at night when his thoughts flowed freely, when his mind, just as his body entered slumber, was awakening from it. Back at Seattle, he'd spend evenings, past 3 AM, rapidly typing on his keyboard, finally putting down ideas that had been bouncing around his head for days, ideas which, while the sun was up, he couldn't quite put into words.

And so he thought. He thought because it was all he could do for now. All he could do to fight off the worries that constantly plagued him. At first, he thought about the stories he'd been planning. He was trying to write this dramatic piece about best friends who had been turned against each other. Before he boarded the bus, he'd been working on this story, hoping to post it on Wattpad. He'd shown off many of his works to his friends in high schools, in the Creative Writing Club, but never online. When he was younger, he considered it to be a sea of trolls who would do nothing but tear apart his works, bit by bit. Juhan was finally getting over his preconceptions, and by now had posted most of the chapters. All he needed was the ending. And he had it. He'd finally thought up the perfect ending, one that would resolve all those hanging plot threads, one that would satisfy everyone and would actually make sense. It's a shame the terrorists took his notebooks.

And there it was. No matter how hard he tried, eventually, it all went back to SOTF.

He let those thoughts, the ones that he had been keeping at bay, rush into his mind and take over everything else. The first thing that came to mind was how unfair the situation was. There were a million places he could be, a million things that could've happened to get him off this trip. He could've gotten sick with this flu a week earlier. He could've gotten involved in that senior prank that got a bunch of other kids suspended. Honestly, anything would've worked.

Anything better than this.

But no. Instead of that, he got stuck in the worst possible situation any teenager could find himself in, except for maybe seeing his country turn into a 1984-esque dictatorship. Before this trip, death had been rather foreign. The closest he'd gotten to it was the news, and the funerals his mom would drag him to. And now, what? A list would be read every morning, and he'd find evidence supporting that. Be it a decapitated corpse in the lounge or a pile of bodies with blown-out necks in the beach. He'd seen so much and now he realized something.

He'd never be the same again.

It was the same feeling you got every time you lost a bit of your innocence. The first time you got a crush. The first time you cursed. This island was making him see things that children should never have to see. Corpses were becoming fixtures on this island, like clouds and the Space Needle in Seattle.

The worst part was that, compared to the rest of the island perhaps, Juhan was still relatively fine. They hadn't gotten into any big fights or forced to do any unspeakable acts. He was still... him. And that wouldn't last for long. He was waiting for it all to collapse in one big moment, like a prisoner on death row. He wasn't sure how or when it would happen, only that, whether he lived or died, something bad would happen.

And then he looked at the door, and remembered that if he forgot to do this, then that something might come very soon.

---

Juhan hated the dark. It was a secret of his, one that only his family knew. He'd watched a show once, Doctor Who maybe, that summed it up pretty well. He didn't fear the shadows itself. He feared what was hidden in the shadows. And what was hidden never varied much, even up to now. When he was in kindergarten or first grade, it would be vampires, furry creatures with one eye, living dolls and so on. When he got older, it was whatever killer or ghost he'd seen in the movies or on the computer. And now, there was the very real possibility of something actually lurking in the shadows, something that actually meant him harm.

They all varied in form, but in reality, they were all the same. Monsters.

He typically did anything to stay out of the dark for more than a few seconds. When he'd have to go downstairs from his bedroom, he'd sprint towards the light switch. Whenever he went to sleep, he made sure the light was still on. Sure, it raised their electricity bill by a lot, but their family's bank account could handle it. He couldn't quite escape it now, but at least Takeshi and Ian were in the room. Even if they weren't awake, their mere presence comforted him somewhat.

Part of taking watch involved checking the hallways every now and then, so that he could alert them in case someone was coming. It didn't really make sense for someone to come hunting for them a few hours past midnight, but on this island, logic didn't seem to reign. He walked around the room a few more times because he was scared of what he might see. Sure, he didn't see anything the last five times he checked the hallways, but that didn't mean he wouldn't see anything now.

He brought his flashlight and walked slowly to the door, buying himself time before finally opening the door.

Sounds that, before, he would've disregarded as rats or just signs of the island's decay meant something else. Thumps, shudders, squeaks. They were signs now, warnings.

He walked in the hallway, shadows being pushed back by his beam of light. He couldn't see what was on the other side. The entire time, he felt something watching him. Hairs were standing on the back of his neck. He couldn't really tell why he was feeling this way, until it hit him. There were steps coming closer and closer to him.

Juhan froze and turned around, pointing the flashlight. Nothing. He couldn't breathe. The feeling of being watched intensified, and the steps grew even louder. They were rapid, as if something was sprinting towards its next kill.

There are typically two responses to this type of situation: fight or flight. Juhan chose neither. He simply stayed there, awaiting for whatever it was to come. He didn't hurry inside to get the one thing he had that could qualify as a weapon: a stick. He didn't think to close the door. He just stood there, waiting.

And it came. To be more specific, a rat came.

He stood there for a few more seconds, before doubling over in laughter. Wow, this island was doing things to his head. Funny thing is, the same thing happened twice already. He panicked, froze, and then it would turn out to be a mouse, or a cat. They were so screwed if an actual killer came. That wasn't good. But instead of letting it get to him, Juhan just laughed and laughed. It was all he could do to stop breaking down.

---

After getting back into the room, his safe haven for the night, he continued pacing, because it was all he could do. Back then, Kaisa, his older sister, would always make fun of him for this habit. She always made fun of him. It was never malicious, however. Just like she'd poke fun at him, he'd do the same to her because it was with good intentions. Anyways, whenever he started walking like this, circling around islands in the kitchen pointlessly, aimlessly, she'd compare him to Sherlock Holmes, saying stuff like, 'Hey, are you solving any cases yet?'

The memory made him smile, the first genuine smile he'd had in a long time. He hadn't smiled since, what? Since he found Ian? Since he met up with Gavin and his group? Honestly, it was only a few days ago, but to Juhan, it seemed like months. So much had happened between then and now, so much. Juhan also realized something else. It was the first time he'd thought of his family for a long time.

Huh.

Juhan stopped walking all of a sudden.

The last time he thought of his family was at that mansion, coincidentally a few minutes after he found Ian. He couldn't remember why he'd brushed it off, why he hadn't acted upon that thought. Was it because Sharon had suddenly left? Was it when he was getting his weapon? All these things were getting mixed up in his head, the order of it all becoming muddled. Whatever it was, it was probably because there were things to work for. There was still hope to get home, to save everyone. He could think about his family once they got their collars off, once they made it out of their last stand with the terrorists, once the boats got them off this island.

God, that plan was so hopelessly optimistic.

Then again, so was he. Back at the haunted house, he thought he was onto something just because the map said this island had a nuclear plant. Because surely, the authorities would recognize that one. It's not like they forgot about a certain island with yet another amusement park, a cellphone tower, and many houses. Or the military base before that. No, they'd surely have recognized it this time.

That was irrelevant. The main thing Juhan needed to focus on was that now, he had time. That time might be two hours or two days. Whatever. He still had time to do this, this task that he should've done as soon as he woke up on the island.

Juhan slowly opened the glass door to the balcony and closed it, making sure not to wake up either Ian or Takeshi. He looked up and saw the island. Not a single light to be seen. If he listened close enough, he could hear a few shouts or a few gunshots. But he didn't really want to hear those sounds. So, he disregarded them and looked past it, towards the sea. It went on forever and ever. It was just barely illuminated by the starlight. Apparently, the moon wasn't out tonight.

He squinted and tried to see if anything was there. For a split second, he thought he saw a blink of light at the horizon. It was red, and it was beautiful. It might've been a passing ship, or a distant city, or a lighthouse, like the one on the island. But then he blinked, and it was gone. His mind must've been playing tricks on him, cruel tricks.

The camera was attached on the left wall, facing outwards. Juhan tapped it.

"Is this thing on?"

It whirred towards him, answering his question. Dust coated its lens, so he wiped it off.

Funny how, before, they were avoiding the cameras. And now?

He cleared his throat, and faced towards the camera.

"So. I should've talked to you guys a long time ago. By 'you guys' I mean you, Kaisa, and Mom and, yes, you too, Dad. Better late than never, I guess. First off, I probably won't be the same if I ever come home, considering the things I'd have to do to make it there. Killers don't typically make productive members of society." He burst out laughing, even though the joke was lame and incredibly morbid. He wasn't even sure if it was a joke. All he knew was that laughing helped.

"Sorry for that. First off, let me just say that if I do... regrettable things on this island, things that aren't me, really, forgive me for it. Because if I come home, I'll need someone. I swear, I'll try to stay nice and all, but given my situation, I can't make any guarantees. It's better I say what I have to say now, while I'm still sane. While I still have time. The fact that I've made it this far is a miracle, one I shouldn't take for granted. I'm not sure how much time I have left. So, consider this my last message."

He let those words hang in the air for a while. He needed time to compose himself, keep steady. He'd broken down thrice on the island. It probably tortured his family to see them like this. He didn't want to torture them once more.

"OK, so, I'm not sure if the terrorists will broadcast this. Or if they'll even bother to broadcast this, since it's not exactly gory, but if they do, then listen closely. First off, my final testament. I bequeath my clothes onto you..."

Juhan burst into laughter again. It was the only way he'd get through this. After a few seconds of this, he started again.

"Seriously? Just do whatever with my stuff. The only thing that I ask of you guys is not to hold onto all of it and make my bedroom into this shrine, or to just leave it 'as is' for when I inevitable come home. I don't want to hurt you guys that much. I mean, you can have some of my stuff, whatever you want, but don't hoard every tissue I used on my face, for example. Give some of it to our relative, or sell it to Goodwill. I don't want to haunt you guys."

"Next, let's see. I'm actually not sure what to say. Again, I hadn't really prepared for this. It only occurred to me now, which is really sucky of me. Oh right, Dad!"

Their dad, Jaagup, was always a sensitive topic in the house. For years, he'd promised that he'd come home, but the problem was that he was a reporter for one of the main newspapers in Estonia. He used to be a foreign correspondent for a couple years after he left the house, but not once did his job take him to Seattle. Sure, it took him to countries like Indonesia, Russia, China, but never Seattle. Never anywhere close to home. And then, he was forced to stay in Tallinn. His job was high-demand, and apparently, he was one of the best that newspaper had. Their mom had learned to cope with this long-distance relationship, and tried to make the best of it. After all, it seemed that the two still loved each other. Kaisa, on the other hand, resented him for it. She always found an excuse to go out of the house whenever Dad's face popped up on Skype. Sometimes, she'd talk about how he's so selfish and always tries to make conversations about him.

Juhan, on the other hand? He'd say what was on his mind right now. There would never be another chance.

"I'm sorry for not talking to you on Skype. I don't hate you or anything."

The truth of the matter was he just didn't care about him as a father. Not in a cold way or whatever, but he'd never felt any bond to his dad. When he left, Juhan was so young that he didn't have much memory of him. Only a few moments that didn't make any sense. His dad sipping coffee in the kitchen. Walking in front of the porch. Juhan did care about him, but only in the same way he'd care for any other person. Not like he made much of an influence on his life, negative or positive. Juhan wasn't one of those people that ended up with issues because of the absence of a parent. His issues arose from much different causes.

"It... really sucks that we never got to meet. Also, it must suck having to talk to us like this. I don't understand how you manage it. Then again, it was a two-way connection with you. You got to see our faces, we got to see yours. Can't say the same here. Anyways, I realize how busy your job is and I completely understand. I don't hate you for it. All I want you to know is that I hope you're doing great there in Estonia. I love you."

Juhan worried because these were pretty close to the words he'd use when talking to him through Skype or making e-mails. It was rehearsed, edited, perfected, and acted out on a weekly basis. The words might sound plastic, meaningless, corny, cheesy, which isn't what Juhan wanted. He knew that his dad truly cared about him. He didn't want to leave him feeling unaccomplished or abandoned or whatever. He hoped it'd be enough.

"Next up is Kaisa. So, hey sis. Looks like your trip to the Olympic Mountains was better. Heh. So, I think you're about to graduate college now? What was your course again? Painting and drawing? Photomedia? Anyways, I swear that if I don't see your paintings make it to the Metropolitan, I will haunt you for the rest of your life... sorry. I swear, I'm so sorry, that was a horrible joke."

His face reddened. He didn't want to pressure his sister, especially from beyond the grave.

"Ahem. Look, I know that you don't have any confidence in your paintings sometimes, but I think they're great. They're really unique, and I'm sure that when you get older, art critics will be fawning about it all over the newspapers. Just keep on painting for me."

"Finally, mom. What can I say? If I say it all, it'll take hours and I'll just break down in a puddle of tears. I'm kinda sick of crying right now, and I don't want to do that to you. So, I'll just say this. You've been a great person, the best I've ever known. I can't believe you managed to put up with me in kindergarten. Also, you helped me so much. Actually, all of you did, especially in middle school. Thank you so much, Kaisa, for teaching me how to act like an actual human being. Thank you, dad and mom, for all of your advice. Don't you guys ever think that you were sucky to me or anything. You've done more than great enough. You've encouraged me, taken care of me, all of that stuff, and I think that speaks volumes."

"I think I've said enough, so I'll just say one last thing. Actually, two. Thank you guys so much for everything. And goodbye."

He turned away from the camera, and looked once more at the balcony. The sun hadn't gone up yet, but there were already hints of orange and pink in the horizon.

It was relieving saying all that. He'd never be able to fix up all the loose threads, especially with some of his friends like Daniel. It was too late for that. But at least he'd managed to do so with his family.

He went over to Ian and poke him, waking him up. It was his turn to take watch now. Once he was up, Juhan replaced his spot on the floor. He knew that, come tomorrow, he'd have to worry about the island again, and all the guilt and worry and anxiety that came with it, but it was nice getting this temporary reprieve. He'd have to cherish it.

Thankfully, like the last couple of times, sleep came easy for Juhan.  

((Juhan Levandi and Takeshi Yoshikawa continue in Intermission))