Chapter Text
I feel alone. It's not like that's anything special, because I have actually been feeling alone since I remember, and that would probably be middle school. Through all the years that have passed, nothing has changed, no matter how much I've prayed for it.
It's very cold. I go downstairs to get the blanket I left there after the dinner. When I pass the door to my dad's office, he only looks at me, not saying anything. I'm not as lucky when I come back, wrapped tight in the blanket.
Dad: Is it too cold?
Me: No, it's okay.
Dad: Go to sleep soon.
Me: Okay, dad.
I think I can leave, so I do, but when I'm already on my way upstairs, dad calls again.
Dad: Cassie?
Me: It's Cas.
Dad: Cas. Before you go to school tomorrow, please eat something.
Me: Okay, dad.
Saying “okay” is the best way to make him stop worrying. Even though I don't intend to eat anything tomorrow morning, or any morning for the rest of my life, and he knows that. It's best to pretend.
I go back to my bedroom and sit in front of the computer. I log in to the chat and watch some of my favorite episodes of that science-fiction show that I love. My father hates them. I think my father hates everything that has nothing to do with Christianity. A religion freak. I look at a picture of Saint Mary above my desk and sigh.
I quickly lower the volume when a chat message announces its arrival with a very loud, high pitched sound.
Dw67: Hi
Casscade: Hello.
Dw67: U wanna talk?
Casscade: Who are you?
Dw67: Name's Dean.
Casscade: Who are you?
Whoever the guy is and for whatever reason he's trying to talk to me, he's probably terrible at grasping the meaning of such questions, because he doesn't answer for a couple of minutes. After maybe three, I'm back to watching the show. Some guys kill the other guys and I'm not sure why, but they look nice. I'd like to have such nice narrow hips. I would also like to have such nice narrow hips in my bed, if you ask me.
I don't get any further with those thoughts.
After fifteen minutes, there's the chat sound again.
Dw67: I'm ur age & feelin kinda alone. Need to talk
Casscade: What is it that you want to talk about?
Dw67: Dunno. Anything. U could say sth about urself. Will u?
I sigh. Sighing is something I do often, but it's not like I don't have my reasons to do that.
Casscade: I'm Cas.
Dw67: Nice name, short 4 Cassandra? Casey? Cassidy? Or sth else
Casscade: Actually, none of them.
Casscade: I prefer not to be called my full name or any full name really.
Dw67: Some secrets have u? It's ok though
Casscade: Don't be nosy.
Dw67: Ok chill out
Dw67: U a guy or a girl
Dw67: ?
Casscade: What, are you looking for a date?
Dw67: Chill i'm just askin
Dw67: Wanna know who I talk to maybe
Casscade: I'm a guy.
Dw67: Now we're talkin
I don't reply. I choose finishing the episode. There are some badass fights and I ignore all the chat sounds, drinking some left-over month-old water. When the main character elaborates on his man-pain for an entire minute and the episode ends with a horrible sound which might cause the dead to wake up and scream, I turn it off and look at the chat. That Dean guy hasn't given up.
Dw67: U busy maybe? If I'm interruptin sth just say ok
Dw67: Do u watch some shows? Or like some music? What's ur fav band
Dw67: I kinda like AC/DC in case ur not totally ignorin me now
Dw67: I watch star trek too
Dw67: U gonna answer me?
I think about what to write. It shouldn't be that difficult. I am the freak nerd kid in my school and I am the one who's sitting in books and movies all the time. But now, I have no idea what to say.
Casscade: I enjoy mostly things that you've probably never heard of. But I do like Star Trek and Doctor Who. I don't have any favorites when it comes to music, though.
Dw67: U should totally listen 2 some classic bands man
Dw67: Like scorpions. And Black Sabbath cause they're awesome
Casscade: Maybe some day.
Dw67: U need 2 how do u even live without some good music
Casscade: As you see, I manage to get by.
He doesn't reply. After an hour I realize it's far past midnight, and go to bed.
I lie there for longer than I would want to and bad thoughts are eating me alive. I shouldn't watch so many shows. And I definitely shouldn't reply to strangers on the chat. Personal rules, Cas? What personal rules? About not talking to people, especially guys? Because after saying “not a girl” you can't come back and you can't wipe the shock from their faces if, or rather when they meet you, and they always want to, and you always want to, even if you know you shouldn't. But you do. And then, it's the end of being friends, because then, they see the long hair and the chest and the waist that you hate and can't change, because your father is a bigot and you're not brave enough.
I sigh. Loudly. Not being loud enough for dad to hear, though.
Dean will not be any different, I'm sure of it.
I wake up with a gasp after another nightmare. I check the time. It's way past nine and my classes start on eight, so I'm late. I decide not to go to school. I'll tell dad I felt sick. I ate breakfast and my stomach couldn't stand it and I felt sick. That's a nice story and he won't say anything.
I log in to the chat. I notice some unread messages. Under Dean's nickname.
Dw67: Hope ur just pissed or sth and don't usually have that stick up ur ass
Dw67: Did u notice that we live in the same town
Dw67: Might meet some day
Dw67: Or not if u don't want to
So all of my methods of getting rid of strangers - when I already make the mistake of replying to them - didn't work. So Dean managed to see through that. So it'll all go to hell.
I don't reply, but I think about Dean a lot. A lot, considering he's a stranger I've never met and probably won't.
Maybe he is different. I can't know that.
I certainly cannot be caught off guard, not by him, not by anyone.
Casscade: I don't do appointments with people I don't know.
That should be enough, I think and switch to another tab with a cat blog open. I like cats, even if my father doesn't. I don't know in what way cats are against religion, but apparently they are, because he seems to despise them. I'll get a cat some day, with a bit of luck.
This is one of the days I get headaches for no reason, so I suffer for the next six hours, because pills are not allowed in our house. Michael would bring some if he hadn't moved out last year. He could always find a way to elude dad's bans, even if it cost him being grounded for a month. He was much braver than I am. Only one year older, yet much more responsible and much stronger than me, he was able to get out of this house right after turning eighteen. My birthday's in less than a month and there's no chance to go away. I'll probably just be here until my father dies in over twenty years or so and live by his rules until I inherit the house.
Dad comes back from his work at a library after four and by that time I have already got rid of the headache. I go downstairs to see him, as I always do.
Dad: Hello, Cassandra.
Me: It's Cas. Hello, dad.
Dad: How was school?
And then I proceed to tell him the little lie I've invented about the breakfast and how my stomach isn't used to eating in the mornings. He won't find out, I'm sure of it, because he never checks if any food has disappeared at all. It hasn't, because I haven't eaten today.
Dad: Remember to get your notes. Eat less tomorrow.
That's all. I nod and go upstairs to see my best friend, that is my laptop. I notice the door to Michael's room is open. I sigh and walk these few steps to close it. When I'm back in my room, the chat tab is flashing yellow. I close the cats' pictures tab and check the messages.
Dw67: Not meetin strangers too. We might get to know each other though
So, Dean again. I wonder what am I getting myself into. It's not like I can't stop answering his messages, but I don't. Somehow.
Casscade: Hello, Dean.
I wait five minutes, drinking water which has lost its mineral value weeks ago, and he writes back.
Dw67: Hey Cas, I was wonderin if u'd even write me
Casscade: Honestly, I probably shouldn't, but I do.
Dw67: Why shouldn't?
Casscade: Not your business.
Dw67: Hey sorry chill out
Dw67: I'm glad u talk to me anyway.
I raise my eyebrows; what is this guy even thinking? Well, I won't ask him and I don't know what to ask without making myself look ridiculous, so I wait. And it's the next twelve minutes before he asks:
Dw67: Seen any good sci fi lately?
Casscade: No, sorry. I don't watch any new movies, I stick with the oldies. And they're either popular or not that good.
Dw67: That's bad cause I'm bored
Dw67: How are u feelin?
Casscade: Not bad, thank you. I had a headache in the morning, but I got rid of it.
Casscade: And you?
Dw67: Whoa finally showing some empathy. I'm god
Dw67: *Good
Casscade: Well, if you were God, things could get complicated. God doesn't usually talk to me, you know.
Dw67: Hahah. Joke master
Dw67: So u do have some sense of humor. Nice 2 know
Casscade: I don't waste my time.
He then says he has to hurry somewhere and he'll be back later, so I log out of the chat and leave my computer for the sake of reading a book. It's something by Jane Austen; I don't usually like the romantic stuff, but she had some skill and is pretty easy to read, even if the habits of people living in those years seem kind of weird to me.
I read the entire book at once and when I finally check the time, it's already after seven pm. I decide to get some food from the kitchen as I'm beginning to lose balance. Only a bit.
When I log in to the chat again, Dean is online, but there are no unread messages. I decide to message him. To hell with personal rules, he seems like he cares.
Casscade: Do you like Jane Austen?
Dw67: Aren't her books some girly stuff? Idk haven't read
Casscade: They might be, as you call it, “girly”, but they're well-written and absorbing. You should read one of her books, if you're interested in literature at all, of course.
Dw67: Well not much but a good book is a good book right?
Dw67: We could share some fav books and read and share impressions or sth ok
I find this idea surprisingly good; Dean turns out to be much smarter than I thought him to be. We talk about books for over an hour and the more we chat, the more I notice how similar our taste is. He liked Tolkien, I liked him, too; we both don't like ancient dramas, and even if my favorite author is Wilde and his is Vonnegut, we both aren't picky when it comes to the genre. I also find out he isn't a total homophobe – he's read books like Teleny; he didn't enjoy that one, which is understandable, because not all people would - but it's not because of two guys being in love with each other, but rather because of the overwhelming amount of sex in the whole book. I talk about the idea of pure art and some of the other stuff that Wilde's said about his books, Dean talks about how he's more about the plot than the form and everything's alright.
Dw67: I've actually never met a guy who would be so passionate about books.
Casscade: Wow, you wrote an entire sentence correctly.
Dw67: Shut up
Dw67: It's NOT about art!
Casscade: So you just suddenly care about your way of writing?
Dw67: If u say so. I always kinda do
Dw67: But it's the plot that's important u won't have me with the pure art stuff
Casscade: I hope you find the plot in my words, too.
Dw67: U know with no plot it'd be hard 2 answer at least I think so
Casscade: That's good. If you don't answer, I'll assume I talk nonsense.
Dw67: Aw bet u won't & I'm sometimes afk so don't worry about me
I smile, even if it's probably not a real smile, but for me it is, and it's quite rare, so I must give Dean this one achievement. We chat until eleven, and in the meanwhile I get my notes from a kinda-friend from my classes. He then says good night, because he has to get up at six, and I have nothing more to do, so I go to bed, too.
For the first time this week or month or even this year, there are no bad thoughts keeping me up; I fall asleep thinking about the books I'm going to read.