One For Sorrow

[Rorick Skyve†]

[[ Aiden Slattery - B029: Start]]

Wait, wait, hold the phone. Something was off. Like, no shit, everything was fucked up already, he didn't know where he was or where everyone else was or what he was doing or what he was gonna do or anything, like. But like, something else, something that should have been right even now, something he couldn't put his finger on, something was off. Fuck, exactly what he needed on top of everything else. More things to worry about, he didn't need that, not now. Had to stay calm. Maybe like, maybe this wasn't the real deal?

Maybe this was just like, a hoax or something. Shitty people tryin' to pull a shitty hoax, like 'Ohh, you're in this big scary game now, you gotta kill your friends!' Like...he knew that was a thing, yeah. But there was no way he was that fucking unlucky, no way this was the real thing. Just someone tryin' to pull a fast one on them, pretend they were the real deal. Had to be it, just had to be. Fuck.

Deep breaths, that was the way. Just not panicking, stayin' all nice and calm, he wasn't gonna fall for this. 'Survival of the Fittest' his ass. This wasn't the real deal. Just wasn't. Freeloaders maybe. Elaborate candid camera style fuckery or some shit.
Jesus, his heart wasn't gonna calm down, was it? Felt like it was going to explode, so it was. No big deal, no biggie, just had to try and stay fucking focused. Actually, he had something for this, his meds, why hadn't he thought of it sooner? Looked like they were gonna be actually useful for once, make him lose all that fucking anxiousness and shit.

Aiden stopped going in circles, halted, leaned against a wall with one hand and reached into his pocket with another to- Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. That was what had felt off. His pocket. His fucking pocket, it was fucking empty, no meds there, not where he had put them.

He checked his other pocket. Same. He looked around, checked the ground around him, in case it had fallen out. Nothing. Just nothing, nada, fucking diddly-squatting zero! No goddamnit, this couldn't be fucking true, this had to be some sort of fucking joke.

His bag. Of course, maybe they had put it there, together with all the other shit. Just missed it the first time he checked it. Yeah, that had to be it.

Aiden practically leaped towards the duffel bag, fell on his knees, ignored the pain shooting through his body, didn't give a goddamn toss. He tore it open again, started to rifle through it once more. Everything still there, his clothes, aid kit, that fucking book, some water, some other food junk, the- dagger thing, almost cut himself on that stupid thing. Everything in there, literally every fucking thing he could have thought of, but not his goddamn ritalin. Fucking-

"Shit", he murmured to himself. "Goddamnit fucking shit!" He punched the bag. Punched it with full force, not like it was going to be satisfying or anything, it didn't fucking need to be. He just really felt like punching something in that moment. They could fuck with him all they wanted, fucking place his ass on a volcano top or something, shit, he wouldn't have cared. But taking his fucking meds, which he needed to fucking keep his head clear, that just was a total dick move, like, fucking damnit.

Aiden got up, fists still clenched, angrily staring at the wall. He felt like punching it. Stupid idea, would only hurt his goddamn fist. Instead, he tried to let his fury out in a different way.
"This ain't funny, you fuckers! What, you people get a kick outta this? Fuck all of you, for fucking real!"

He didn't aim his voice anywhere, just yelled at the wall, the ceiling, the floor as well. Anything deserved to know of his anger in that moment. They better had been watching, they better had been seeing this shit, see how pissed he was. Were prolly giggling their asses off, but whatevs, someone just had to see him go flip. Woulda wasted his energy otherwise.

He clutched his head. No time to get a headache, totally wrong time. Wasn't going to get better in there, no way he'd just stay in there and twiddle his thumbs, wait till someone came and told him he got shafted or something. Nah, he just had to get out of there. Yeah, prolly the best thing to do, to be sure. And so he followed suit.

Minute later, he had his bag packed up tight and on his back. He was still fucking steaming, but not as much as before. Meds were gone, really fucking shitty, but not the end of the world. Maybe someone had hidden them around the next corner. Like, not very likely, but worth hoping. Yeah, he had to try and stay positive, least a little bittie.

Had to go find some peeps, get everything under control. This was gonna turn out one big fat hoax, sure as shit. He just knew it, had a feeling in his gut. Everything was fine, would have his meds back in an hour or so, then get the fuck back home. He'd walk all the way back by himself if he had to, so he would.

[[Aiden Slattery continued in Imprimatura]]