All throughout her life, people had attempted to put April on particular paths. They would lull her into a false sense of security by being family, or being a family friend. Gaining her trust, becoming close with her, all to subtly push her in particular directions. If she were being charitable, she would assume that they weren’t even aware of what they were doing. Nevertheless, push her they did.

  ?

  When she was a very small child, those influences were not present. It was as if they had been waiting in the shadows, waiting for her to be ‘ripe’. She could play, yell and scream as much as she wanted. That was okay, though, because that’s what young children do. It’s what’s right for them, after all. As she got older, however, and puberty began, it was as if a switch had flipped in the people around her.

  ?

  Coupled with the development of secondary sex characteristics was a shift in how she was perceived. It felt unfair. There was nothing she could do to stop it. It’s not as if she had dreamed of development, but as it marched forward without regard to her emotional state, so too did the looks of others. So too, did what they expected out of her. No longer could she mess around with friends, no longer could she indulge herself in games. She was now expected to walk a path. However, what made it even more confusing was that there wasn’t just one path. There was a multitude. With all kinds of different forces pushing her towards, and away, from them.

  ? As she exited elementary school, people would outline a path for her to become a wife, a mother. It’s what’s right, after all. As she entered middle school, it was made clear to her that she would be the one to shoulder the responsibility of emotional labour. To be the one solely responsible for those around her. It’s what’s right, after all. After a bad day at school, a family member would tell her she has to smile more. It’s what’s right.

  As she experienced the blossoms of love for the first time, she would simultaneously have it drilled into her that she must be complacent. That she shouldn’t pursue someone too much, lest she be seen as promiscuous. It’s what’s right, after all. As her secondary sex characteristics developed, she would now be expected to be more ‘presentable’ to others, that if she strayed too far from that path, she would have no value. It’s what’s right, after all.

  As she exited middle school and entered high school, she would have to accept that men would harass her. That men would look at her in ways she did not want to be looked at, talk to her in ways she did not wish to be spoken to. Placed into situations she had no interest in being in. It’s what’s right, after all. As she attempted to discover herself in high school, she would be expected to be prim, proper, and pure. Not for herself, but for any potential male suitor that might take interest. It’s what’s right, after all.

  ?

  She should not indulge herself. She should not discover herself. She should not pleasure herself. She should not enjoy herself. She should not sully herself. She should not ruin herself. She should not age. She should not crumble. She should not be irresponsible. She should not be disrespectful. All of these paths, all of these ideas for herself, that she did not request, that she did not beseech, that she did not desire. Because she was told that all of them were right, after all.

  ?

  △▼△▼△▼△

  The atmosphere was tense, especially after their last conversation. Alexandria, however, still wanted to be present for April. Of course she did. That conversation was not enough to break what she felt. She stood outside the door to April’s living space, alongside Steven. People were coming and going down the halls, a sign of the heightened state of the populus. Alongside your ordinary civilian, however, Enforcer patrols were doubled, if not tripled.

  They were shaking people down for whatever reason they saw fit, in the name of national security. The events of today, the horrific, awful events of today, would serve as a stepping stone for serious cultural and political reform from the Administration. If you ask the layman, most people weren’t even aware of any resistance force until today. Did it even exist? Or did they just pin something on a random person to start their crackdown?

  ?

  If the whispers she had been hearing on her way here were true, it wouldn’t stop here. The Administration would now be working overtime on stopping “radical thought.” A return to traditional values, in order to secure a future for America. Nobody truly knew what that entailed, an intentionally vague value statement so that they could enforce it any which way they desired. Anybody capable of reading between the lines would be afraid. Alexandria was afraid. She knew that in this new ‘world’ the Administration would want to create, she would not be welcome.

  ?

  “April, please, open the door! Come on!” Steven yelled through the door, knocking on it repeatedly. He did try to keep his audio level down, so as not to rouse the attention of any Enforcers that could be passing by. “God damn it. That’s it. I’m gonna kick it.” Grabbing the belt loops of his pants, he pulled them up a touch before assuming a… door-kicking-stance?

  “Steven, you’re not gonna kick the door in.” She replied.

  ?

  “I’m gonna kick it, Alex!” He exclaimed, taking what seemed to be microsteps as if he was sizing up a door.

  “Don’t kick the fucking door, Steven! What is that gonna do?” Stepping in front of him, she unwound all of that excellent prep he had done to kick in a door. “You’re just gonna scare her!” As she added this on, she spread out her arms as if to deal one last blow to his gusto. He let out a sigh before unspreading his legs to unassume the door-kicking stance.

  “My friend is in trouble in there. I don’t know if you realised, but she just watched her Mom get executed!” He took a step towards Alex, and put his index finger in her face, as if pointing through her to signify the direction he demanded to head towards. It was an assertion that annoyed Alexandria. Does he think that she doesn’t know what just happened? Does he think that she doesn’t want to help her as well?

  “Of course, I realize! Don’t be a dick! This isn’t about what we might want, okay?” Slapping the hand out of her face, the two were separated by mere inches.

  ?

  Steven was taken aback by her words, and she took that opening. “Look, look. I don’t want to say that what you’re doing is wrong, because it’s not! It’s not. I know it comes from a place of care, and kindness… We just have to think about her.” She continued, attempting to seize the opening that she had created. Realistically, what would breaking down this door do for April now? Frighten her? Cause her to be around people she doesn’t want to be around at this moment? Leave her with a broken door?

  She understood Steven. She wasn’t happy that they had to come to a disagreement like this. Deep down, within the depths of her heart, she wanted to break it down with him and be by her side. But after their conversation that day, she knew how April felt. Even if it was only scratching the surface. She knew that at this critical juncture, crowding her with sentimentality would only cause her more frustration. More anger. More self-loathing.

  ?

  She was someone who didn’t feel she deserved the kindness of others, to occupy the hearts of others. Doing so now, at what would potentially be her lowest, would cause more damage. The more she thought about it, the more she felt she had to speak. “I know, I know. How badly you want to bust through that door and be there with someone you– care about.” Her eyes darted about, worried that someone might overhear the conversation the two of them were having.

  It felt as if there was a lump in her throat, but she had to press forward. To overcome that hurdle, to voice something that had been screaming to be let out. Looking Steven straight in his eyes, who bore a face of confusion and bewilderment at her nervous attitude, she said it. “Someone you… more than care about. Someone, you love?” Blinking repeatedly, she grabbed her arm out of further nervousness. With each blink, she would alternate where she looked. The floor, the wall beside them, the door, then at Steven.

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  ?

  He looked stunned, then a little bit grossed out. That shift in facial expression made her fear for the worst. “Ew. No. God no. April and I aren’t like that dude. Seriously.” Dropping his tone, he replied entirely earnestly. Probably the most deadpan that Steven had ever sounded in her entire time of knowing him. Her face turning even more red than before, she ended up looking even more shocked than before.

  “Moron! I meant me! You’re seriously the worst!” She exclaimed. This wasn’t exactly the situation she had hoped she would be in when expressing those feelings.

  “Ohh. That makes more sense.” He breathed a sigh of relief, before turning away from the door. He placed his back against it and slid down to his butt. “She’s like my sister, you know? I’ve seen her go through something really, really rough these past few years. For most of the time we’ve known each other, she used to have a lot more… pep in her step, I guess.” As he spoke, he had a thin smile on his face when recalling those times. That thin smile, then, turned into a quivering smile.

  ?

  He chuckled to himself, like he was trying to keep the mood light. Steven always had a tendency to do that. To be frank, he wasn’t someone that she knew particularly well, despite their time working together. More often than not, for obvious reasons, she ended up gravitating towards April. “All this time… I just wanted to help bring back the old April, you know? To just make her smile again. More and more. I really tried. Me and her Mom, really, really tried.”

  ?

  As he sat on the floor, back up against the door, the sound of his voice cracking began to cut through. When that started, he took his right hand and covered his eyes with it, afraid to show that weakness to the world. While she was sure that, at heart, he was just a naturally goofy ray of sunshine, she also felt relief. Relief that a part of it was to do his best to help April through what she had endured.

  ?

  She reached out and grabbed the hand not covering his face, which made him lower his other to look at her. She grasped his in hers. “We’ll help her. You and I. We’ll save her heart.” Locking eyes, she imparted their new joint goal to him. After which, he then squeezed her hand back. An implicit acceptance of what the two of them, from then on, would venture to do. No matter how many rejections, no matter how difficult, no matter how much self-loathing. The two of them would step forward together to save the person they love.

  ?

  “So… how long? Like, how long have you felt that way about April?” He inquired as to their previous discussion topic, to which Alexandria’s face turned red again. “Seriously, you’re asking me that now?!” She quickly let go of his hand, and he didn’t stop her. Nor did he stop its descent to the floor. “Well, it’s not like we got anything else to talk about! Let’s lay it all out, yeah? So that we can help April!” His way of fighting back. How cruel of him to use April like that. Well, I guess she wouldn’t mind talking about her, just a little more.

  ?

  Perhaps the subject matter of their discussion felt at odds with their current environs. In such a perilous situation, is making small talk really appropriate? Alexandria considered such matters. She thought, and thought, and thought. And came to the conclusion; Yeah. It might just be a bit unusual. However, she wouldn’t feel guilty for plucking joy out of a hopeless situation.

  ?

  △▼△▼△▼△

  ?

  “It’s yours. Only yours.”

  Those final words of her Mother’s would echo in her head since she had first heard them. She felt so, so miserable. And now, the pathway out rests in her hands. The revolver that, for some inexplicable reason, was in her Father’s possession, now rests in hers. There was truly nothing left for her. Of course, she enjoyed the company of her friends. But she knew that deep down it wasn’t something she deserved. Nor did they deserve to be dragged down by her.

  “It’s yours. Only yours.”

  ?

  What could she have possibly meant? What was hers? Truly, life had been unfair. It was obvious that her Mother had something she had wished to impart to her, but before she could finish, her life was ripped away. She couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was left to work with. But it didn’t matter. Her Mother was mistaken. She had made a mistake. To leave something to her daughter, was the epitome of foolishness.

  ?

  “It’s yours. Only yours.”

  ?

  Her moronic daughter, who had never done a thing worth mentioning. Her good-for-nothing daughter, who only dragged down her loved ones. She didn’t want to drag them down anymore. The hole that she was dragging them down into, she wanted to be in it alone. To rot in that hole, to never get out of that hole, is what she had desired. She would fester in the hole, never to climb out. Fester for so long, that flies would come to feast on what remains, yet, not even they would be able to stomach her existence. It hurts. It hurts so bad. It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts. But now was when that hole would embrace her with open arms, and this time, instead of rejecting the hole as she had done previously, she would go with it, hand in hand. You fucking moron. Did you truly believe that just because a few people in this world showed you kindness, that you would deserve to walk side by side with them? What made you so arrogant as to think that they did it for you? In reality, they probably felt so bad watching you fumble your way through life that they stopped to pick you up on the side of the bridge, like some sort of lost kitten. It’s in human nature, after all, to want to take care of pitiful things because it hurts to see them struggle. Again and again, over and over again, all you do is fail those around you. Your Father was probably content knowing that he didn’t have to come back home to you again that day. Not because he’s a bad guy who wanted to abandon his daughter. Simply put, because it’s you. Now, your Mother doesn’t have to worry about you being a bitch day in and day out. It’s probably a load off her chest. Imagine, just imagine, how it must feel to raise and sculpt a living being for two decades, for them to turn out as ungrateful, as impossible to deal with, as you are. Generally, when people have kids, they expect some return on investment. What are you, a grocery store worker, with no educational ambition? Nothing you pour your soul into? You shamble day by day, wondering which will be your last. You absolutely pathetic excuse. You know, who’s to say you didn’t even mishear your Mother’s final words? That sounds like something you would do. To fumble it all at the last moment possible, and now, to so arrogantly think that she was the one who made a mistake, not you. She knew. She knew better than anybody that you can’t be trusted with anything. So once again, just like everything else, the issue lies with you, and only you.

  ?

  “It’s yours. Only yours.”

  ?

  As she lay on the floor, she had stopped crying. Not because she had suddenly felt better, or anything simple like that. She had simply run out of tears to shed. The pain caused by the loss of her Father and Mother, created a negative feedback loop of pain, amplifying one another to the point that she thought she could no longer bear it. In some bizarre way, in a way that she couldn’t possibly word, there was a slight amount of comfort in that. There was comfort that she hurt this badly over her parents. –No, if she had to put it into words, she would perhaps phrase it as such: Misery meant you remembered.

  ?

  “It’s yours. Only yours.”

  ?

  All of the pain, all of that powerlessness, all of that incompetence, she held onto it all. To do so was to grieve. To hurt was to love, that was how she had felt, in this moment.

  ?

  “It’s yours. Only yours.”

  ?

  Maybe then, maybe this once, if she could be arrogant enough just this once, that was the one thing she was capable of. Hurting.

  ?

  “It’s yours. Only yours.”

  ?

  If she could be so arrogant so as to assume that she did not mishear her Mother’s final words, maybe that was the key. To remain shattered was April’s way of never forgetting her Father. And now, that would extend to remembering her Mother. Following that logic, she had come to an understanding. The true, undeniable meaning of what she had wanted to convey before the end.

  ?

  “It’s yours. Only yours.” The thing that was hers, was a duty. The duty to continue on, to remember people that she had no business being raised by. To carry the legacy of her parents, she would continue on as she was. To tell her that it was only hers. Her pain to carry, her despair to foster. This was the penance that she would have to pay for never being able to communicate to her Mother that she had loved her until the very end. So now, beyond the finish line, she will communicate it. By living in misery.

  ?

  Slowly, and gently, she lifted herself off the floor. She had looked at the revolver that she had wrapped her hand around, and even more slowly, even more gently, she placed it back in the box it originated from. She couldn’t exit this world. Not yet. Even if those words became a curse, she would endure this pain so that her parents could be mourned. And when the day comes, the day that she realizes that she didn’t think about them once that day, that will–

  ?

  It happened when she steeled her resolve. A rustle outside her door. Different from when Steven had been knocking on it obnoxiously. Something was unfolding outside.

  ?

  △▼△▼△▼△

  ?

  As the door swung open, she saw Steven, surrounded by Enforcers. Her eyes darted around, trying to ascertain the situation in front of her. That’s when Steven jerked his body around to face April. “April! They took her! They took Alex!” He shouted out, which caused a nearby Enforcer to push him to his knees to silence him. An Enforcer approached April at her door, sheathing his baton. “You a friend of the suspect? She is being detained on suspicion of betraying national values. If you’re a patriot, you’ll tell us everything you know, yeah?”