Chapter 1: Broken
I am an angel with a broken wing. When I have somebody to love, I fly through the heavens without the will to rest. I'm happy, and treasured by that person. Everything is perfect. That is until I crash into a familiar field that's been seeded with sadness and plowed with heartbreak. That is when my wing snaps off. Tiny feathers fall to the ground around me, and blood trickles, soaking my legs with the reminder that there is no such thing as true love.
I have lost count of how many times I have ended up in the field. I assume dozens of times. Each time brings me down to asking myself why I even bother anymore. But then my happy side goes on about how maybe the next time will be different. Right now, I'm with my sad side. Both sides collided when I transferred to my sad side. They argue with each other. My happy side wants me back with her so we can try again, but my sad side clings to me because I'm the only thing that gives her sanity. I eventually wake up with my happy side abounding next to me. I always return to her somehow. It's weird, but also annoying. My sad side will have her fingers wrapped around my shoulders again one day.
She claimed me a few hours ago. I was just going about my regular day. Everything was fine. And then bada-bing, I check my phone and find a text message from my steady significant other. He dumped me. I knew I saw him looking at his ex-girlfriend one afternoon. I shrugged it off and didn't say anything. I regretted that decision now. He was gone. I was nothing but his toy.
Not a wink of sleep came for me that night. I laid in bed the whole time, shedding tears onto my pillow with bloodshot eyes. I didn't make a sound. I grieved in silence. My sad side curled up next to me like a sleepy cat. She grieved with me.
Usually she was screaming for me, but that was when I was with my happy side. I was her drug, her addiction. My sadness made her actually understand life. Although she benefitted from my presence, I suffered from hers. I felt stuck. I hated being with her, but I didn't want to be happy with my happy side. I watched her laugh and roll around in beds of grass from the other side of the transparent wall. She acted like a child, and she was quite an entertainment to be around. "C'mon, Macca!" she called, her voice suppressed from the wall. "Come have fun with me!" Then she would find something else to play with.
Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to be unconditionally happy like she was. Everything was her playground, and there was no evil to disturb her. My sad side always moped around, not having the desire to go do something useful. I would always find her in a new place, laying on her side, her eyes staring into her mysterious fantasy. I was the hybrid. I switched from one side to the other. It seemed like clockwork after so many times of crashing into the field. It was terrible to live this way. I hated it.
My alarm clock loudly beeped at seven in the morning. Without looking, I reached over and pressed the button to turn it off. My sad side opened her empty eyes next to me. I tried to ignore her as I numbly got ready for the day, but I knew she was hovering behind me the whole time. While I was brushing my teeth, she rested her chin on my shoulder and hugged my stomach. I shrugged her off me. The last thing I needed was her feeding from my heartbreak by mimicking the things he used to do with me. She was manipulating my memories to enhance her own lucidity.
I didn't feel like eating breakfast. I had no appetite for a plain bowl of cereal. I just laid across my couch wearing my regular outfit that I wasn't sure even matched today. I didn't care, anyway.
I didn't turn on my television or anything. I stared at the blank screen for a while, but then I gazed down at the gray figure that was laying down next to me. She was staring off into her fantasy. Typical.
I thought back to all the times she was with me. We were both silent; we didn't speak to each other. Well, I didn't speak to her. She didn't own a voice of her own unlike my happy side. But it kind of didn't matter that she couldn't speak. I've sort of been able to guess her limited number of feelings through the movement of her eyes. When her pupils shifted side to side, she was impatient, like she was counting time. When she blinked once every few seconds, she was satisfied with something. When her eyes narrowed, she was aggravated. I wasn't sure what her feelings were when she was escaping in her fantasy. Maybe she was bored or something.
She couldn't speak, but I knew she could read my thoughts. That was how I learned those particular feelings from her. She responded to my thoughts through her eye movements. I remember getting irritated with her one time when I refused to let her direct my mind to a different ex-boyfriend. She counted time with her eyes for hours, and she was sure to have me watch whenever she had the opportunity. Other than that, she was quite secluded to herself.
She came out of her fantasy, narrowing her eyes at me.
What did I say? I asked her.
Her glare didn't waver.
Maybe I should name you. I'm tired of calling you "my sad side."
Her glare relaxed a little bit. I wasn't sure what she was feeling by the offer.
I could name you something stupid. How does Barf sound?
Her eyes narrowed again. I smirked.
I don't like you, but I'm not cruel. I like Jen. How does Jen sound?
She started blinking her eyes. She liked that name, too.
Alright, Jen. What's a good name for "my happy side?"
She stopped blinking and went blank. She was back to her fantasy.
Giddy McButter Pants?
Her eyes blinked.
Funny, but no. It needs to suit her.
I thought about what my happy side did all the time. She did many things, which came down to the single word "child." If she acted like a child, then what kind of name fit that description?
What do kids like?
Jen went to her fantasy.
Oh yeah. You wouldn't know…But kids like candy. Candy is a real name. Is that a good name?
Jen blinked again.
Okay so from now on you're Jen and she's Candy.
She returned to her fantasy. I laid there for a few minutes, watching her eyes and how they had no color. All I could see was a visible ring around her pupils, but the color that should've been there was just as white as her scleras. I looked at her dull, messy hair. She didn't have the ability to keep it kept. I kind of wished I could brush it out for her. I couldn't do that, of course. She could touch me, but I couldn't touch her. She was like a ghost in some ways.
I rolled over on the couch so I didn't have to look at her anymore. My glumness had made me sleepy. I should've stayed in bed for another hour or two. Oh well.
I hadn't slept all night. A small nap couldn't hurt. I guessed naming my two sides helped my mood some.
I closed my eyes and tucked my knees into my belly. My heartbreak would pass eventually. One morning I'd wake up to a smiling Candy, who'd welcome me back to her side of the wall excitedly. I almost smiled at the thought. A part of me would partially be glad to have Candy back, but another part wouldn't want to leave Jen all alone, not after giving her a name. I felt closer to her than I ever thought was possible. I didn't consider her a friend, but just as someone I wouldn't mind communicating with every now and then. Leaving her suddenly didn't feel right.
I felt her arms encase my sides. She buried her face in my curly hair. At first she was frigid, and then she relaxed.
I knew she heard my thoughts. She didn't want me to leave her. I was all she had. Without me, nothing made sense. I could only imagine what that was like for her.
Her touch brought sadness to me like usual. I wasn't sure if taking a nap was such a good idea anymore.
I let her stay this time. I was suffering but why did it matter now? I needed her, too, in some odd way. It comforted me to know she would be right here with me when I opened my eyes again.