-,The Show Goes On`- [Brik]

I think I know the answer to the question I speak but I can't be sure. And besides, it's too late for me to take it back because he is already answering it. Except I can't hear the reply over the screams and now I know I will never hear his answer is his words because I know I can't come back to this place. My mind is my own and with all this pain that rushes through it when I try to talk about my past. The thing is, the doctors can't tell me that letting it all out helps because I doubt any of them truly understand what I have been through ... I mean who the hell do they think they are?! Damn, if they could tell me they went through the same thing as me and talking about it helped I sure as hell would, but so far, I haven't found a single doctor like that. So, yeah my memories and fears and life is all locked up. Safe and sound. I don't think I will ever open that safe. And as long as no one breaks in I should be fine. Right??

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I turn around as the door creates a noise that signals a visitor. I want to swear aloud but instead call a simple, "Just a sec!" Then of course I call myself an idiot because I know who it is, and I know that she couldn't hear me. I look down at my baggy pants in dismay, and shake my head as I open the door.

I try to ignore the fact that I am completely under dressed, at least compared to what she is wearing as I invite her on with a simple hand gesture. I have found that it is easier for her if I just use simple signs. Of course, I don't really have the means of learning any sign language alone, and I only know the few handfuls of signs that she taught me the last time we talked. And it really is the only thing we have for communication because I am terrible about comprehending her speech. She explained to me that they have speech classes to teach the deaf how to talk, but I really don't understand how that works. How can someone who can't hear produce sound that those who can hear can understand?

I hope that I don't regret inviting her ... I hope she is better at this than I am because, honestly ... I haven't ever done this. Please let her understand ...

Sometimes I find myself jerking awake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. It always takes me a moment to settle down and realize that I can't change what happened, not even in my dreams. And when I finally figure out that I can't change the past, that my little sister will always be dead, hot tears pour down my face and I end up crying myself back to sleep. I remember when I used to wake up crying when I was younger not because of my sister's death, but I woke because I missed my mom. Now, as a gangster I knew I wasn't supposed to cry, it showed signs of weakness so I would only cry at night when all the other kids at the home were asleep. But it seemed that my sister would always know when I was awake. Whenever I woke up with tears in my eyes, she would make sure to come lay in bed with me until I stopped and fell back asleep. She was always the bigger person, always better than me. And I know some older brothers think that they are responsible for how their younger siblings turned out, but I am so happy that I was not a part of how she grew. She was just like my mom and I was so thankful that she didn't put up with my shit. And, of course, when I decided to tamper with the way her life went I ruined it.

And now the 2 most important women that have ever entered my life are gone. And both deaths are all my fault. Even my dad was taken from me, or at least my step-dad ... No, he was my dad. I have never known my real father and because my mom never told me, I never asked. And I am okay with that. It doesn't bother me much not knowing my real dad. Odds are that he is dead anyways just like everyone I love ends up. Dead and gone forever.

I remember the day I got my tattoo. I was so pissed that day, I pretty much hated the world, wanted to kill myself. Like mother, like son?? Not sure exactly if that is a real saying, but that day I sure thought it could be. I walked into this shop, which was a lot different for me, and I thought that maybe if I got pricked with tons of different needle points I might feel a little better. That theory didn't exactly;y work, but now I get to look at art everyday of my life. It is beautiful, the way that the colors are etched into my skin. The girl that had given me the tat had suggested cardinals. She said that the color red they were would match my skin tone perfectly. Honestly I didn't care much about how the tattoo looked, I just wanted it to be as painful as possible. It turned out that it didn't hurt at all though; I had already dealt with much deeper kinds of pain. But, now, after it is done and it sits on my pectoral, it makes me want to kill and cry all at the same moment. Reminds me of who I hate and who I love and how weak and pathetic I am. And for me, that reminder is important. So important ... I miss her ...

"So, what are we going to do?"

The movement of Bastet's hands made me remember where I was. I find myself rubbing the back of my neck in shame realizing that I had been forgetting I had company. And it wasn't that she wasn't important, it was just that ... Deaf people, they are just - quiet. And honestly, I find her quite fun. She is different, unique. I suppose that I must've even seen more than even that in her because she was at my apartment again and I had actually attempted to clean up. It hits me that I must find her important. I want to ignore that thought though and start to wonder what exactly we are going to do. District 5 isn't exactly the best place for sight seeing unless you like looking at oil rigs or the walking dead. I try to remember the sign for "I don't know." and think I succeed, at least from what I can remember then make give a smile and ask for her preference.

"What would you like to do?"

I'm not sure that all my signs are right, so I speak the words as well, just in case. I'm hoping she won't see that I do have something to do today. Something that I can't forget, but can't show her either. It's a Sunday and up until now I had forgotten. I feel guilty and want to punch myself in the face for forgetting. How in the hell could I forget!? I'm not allowed to forget, it's just ... It's not right ... I will do it later, after Bastet has gone home, even if that means late. I can't miss doing this.