{Stumbling} upon madness [Jason + Helen]

J a s o n + M a t h e s o n

{And I feel like takin off
Let me be your supernova
Before you make the biggest mistake of your life
Just give me the chance to get it right, get it right}

She's a sight for sore eyes but she certainly ain't happy in the slightest.

An angry person is simply a normal sight for me at this point. However, an angry person who looks like that (attractive) is completely foreign and once again my brain finds itself blank and at a lost for thoughts. What can I even say at this point? No answer, no words, not even a passing thought. Perhaps it's better because anything I say would probably make this whole situation even worse.

She definitely ain't happy in the slightest.

”Watch where you’re fucking going!” She curses and I find myself internally wincing in weak agony at the swearing. She's definitely angry. If someone swears like that it usually means they're very angry and of course it's always at me. If she was to curl her hand into a fist and send it into my face right now I wouldn't be able to do anything because my knees are jelly at the sight of her. I can't even form basic words because my tongue is tied in a tight knot and my tummy even tighter.

She's trying to regain her balance but her annoyance at me feels tangible in the air around me, like an all too familiar tight noose around my neck that I just won't escape. Idiot. Stupid. Loser. The insults are all too familiar when I've done something wrong. Most of the time it's from another Matheson; I guess I've sort of earned it in a way. I guess now I have? Perhaps, I've been warned about it at least thousands of times by my own family daily. 'You need to pay some fucking attention Jason.' Every time it's gone in one ear but I've never actually acted on it. I don't know where it even goes.

Still, I don't know who this girl is but she's already burning my composure to dust. 'Watch where you're fucking going!' Those words alone were enough to pierce through whatever flimsy mental protection I had built up around me like it's butter She's mad, she's definitely piping mad; she could hit me and I couldn't do anything back. Even if she wasn't a girl I wouldn't hit back; I never have. Anyway, how could I do or say anything when she's looking like that. A wave of brown hair cascades past her face as she regains her balance.

My arms feel like flimsy rubber at my hands and a sudden firm lump begins to form in my throat. Nothing you say can make this situation any worse. Still, in the back of my mind I find myself wondering in the back of my mind why is someone else here. I was just walking, just trying to find somewhere to go that wasn't home. Isolation - such a simple request yet it's treated like an impossible demand. A place where I won't be insulted (idiot, stupid, imbecile), where I won't have someone livid and glaring daggers at me.

I can feel my face slowly turning red under the imaginary pressure suddenly induced by her annoyance. "Sorry I just- I just..." I begin but begin trailing off, my blank brain unable to finish the sentence. My gaze snaps from her piercing blue eyes to her feet, it's much easier to focus on those. They don't make me wish the ground would swallow my body whole, they don't make me internally squirm after my paper defences have been penetrated - they simply look less angry. I'm used to the sight of an angry person but an angry attractive person is just too much for me to even think of handling.

J a s o n + M a t h e s o n

{And I feel like takin off
Let me be your supernova
Before you make the biggest mistake of your life
Just give me the chance to get it right, get it right}

(Can't you do anything right Jason?)

I should run away, I should turn and sprint away from her right now before I make her any more mad. I should climb a tree were no one can reach me, I could do it as well. I'd consider myself a naturalist, when I want to escape (which is a lot) when I want to stay in reality but get away from there I run to the forest and just stay there. I pass the time doing whatever and I'm used to it now. I could probably name know every single plant in this forest because I spent so much time out here to run away from me own family.

Running away from her would be a piece of cake.

Oh, but this feeling is stopping me. The feeling of an ocean, a riptide of embarrassment slowly building up pressure on my body. I feel like I'm drowning. As if my windpipe is closed and any attempt to use it only makes me sputter out some kind of water. I'm freezing cold as well but my face is red hot from this situation and I can feel my whole body getting red. My legs refuse to move and I don't even bother to search around for a tree to climb. My vision just stays rooted to her feet like the trees that surround us firmly rooted to the ground, unmovable and unshakable. The silence is deafening, like an ever increasing pressure building up and slowly making my bones creak and pop. I'm half expecting her to slap me, scratch me, punch me in the face or something. Not that I could do anything. I'd just stand there and take it I guess, my knees are weak and my arms are as heavy as lead at my sides.

(Can't you do anything right Jason?)

Well, it's not like I expected someone to be just waiting here, this place doesn't usually lave lots of people in it. Now that I actually think about it I've come here to escape so many times and not once have I run into another soul just here. She shouldn't be here. I should've been able to keep to my head and keep walking without bumping into here because that's how it normally goes. Besides, at this time people are usually working or something, not hanging around the forest like I am.

”I just what?” She presses the question and I can feel myself drowning further and further in the wave of embarrassment, deeper and deeper I sink into a wave of incoherent sentences and blank thoughts. I feel like a can deep under the ocean, slowly getting crushed and misshaped - I don't belong here.

(Can't you do anything right Jason?)

Harsh words and even an even harsher question because I'm pretty sure the answer to that question is no. I'm not sure, surely there's something? Wishful thinking, after all, I can't even give a proper answer to this girl's question. Just what? I just what? How can I answer if I don't even know the answer myself? It's stupid (I'm stupid) for me to even try.

She's regained her balance and she's expecting a crystal clear answer but I can't give it to her, it's like asking a rat to fly. (Can't you do anything right Jason?) I don't know, I honestly don't know if I can because my tongue is twisted in a giant knot of letter and words.

"I just-" I begin but immediately cut myself off once again. Nothing I say can make this any worse. Thousands of things I can say, thousands and endless possibilities can be said and about two of them would make sense; it's a simple choice really.

A try to put on the strongest most genuine smile I can muster before dryly chuckling and looking back into her eyes. I am lost. "Just weren't expecting someone to be here, 'specially not- er... erm..." I choke myself off once again. Of course I pick the response that makes no sense. I am truly lost.

(Can't you get anything right Jason?)

No, I really can't.

"Especially not erm... you." I finish, putting an unneeded random emphasis on her.

Living proof that I can't get anything right.

J a s o n + M a t h e s o n

{And I feel like takin off
Let me be your supernova
Before you make the biggest mistake of your life
Just give me the chance to get it right, get it right}

I'm not off the hook yet.

I don't know what I was honestly expecting. That she would say 'okay' then we could march off in opposite directions and pretend this never happened? Maybe I was expecting that she'd laugh at my nervousness and think it was 'cute' or something and we could talk more. Implying that anyone would want to talk to me, just look at me. No, that's all wishful thinking, it's all thinking I can't afford to have because it's the best case scenario. The best case scenario just doesn't happen, especially not for idiots like me who can't even talk to a girl when they accidentally bump into them.

I don't belong here; I don't belong suspended on this imaginary hook. I don't like this feeling. I feel like a tree, slowly being hacked and hacked until I eventually topple over under my own weight. There are no sharp objects in sight but she's slowly brutally chopping me down with an axe and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I'm helpless and I just want to squirm under her magnifying glass and roll away. I want the ground to swallow me up and send me to the depths of hell because I would be much more comfortable there than here.

She's not satisfied with my answer, I can tell just by looking in her eyes and seeing her face (see, I'm paying attention this time) and I'm not off the hook. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, I wasn't even satisfied with my answer. What was I even thinking? The way her arms are folded, the way she's slowly shaking her head with her jaw dropped (she's still nice to look at when she's disappointed) just all shows that she ain't satisfied, she ain't impressed. I think she's going to cut me or something.

My vision instinctively dart back to the ground once again no, I have to do something right) and I draw them back up her body and back to her face. I can't look down because that's showing weakness, that's showing that I can't look after my self and that means I can't do anything right. After all, how can I do the right thing if I can't even do the right thing by myself? So, I keep my gaze locked onto her perfect face. I keep focused her auburn hair cascading down the sides of her face, her piercing blue eyes that are keeping me on the hook, anything on her head that isn't her feet.

It's torture but it's nice at the same time.

”What do you mean, YOU?” She asks, refusing to let it go even more and the flood continues.

My throat's as dry as a desert and my knees feel like sturdy jelly. Her words pierce through the air like paper and cut into my conscience like it's another blank tree. What have I done now? I don't see the big problem, what I said doesn't seem very bad and all. Honestly, it seems pretty normal that I wouldn't be expecting strangers to be here. Still, she's mad and once again she's put be under axe, ready to bring it down once again.

This time I ain't gonna buckle.

I'm weightless and I'm on the (seemingly) inescapable hook. She won't let me off it any time soon and the ground won't open up and swallow me and send me to the hell I want so bad. The wind ain't gonna suddenly pick up and blow me away like a feather. One of these big trees won't suddenly collapse and squish her like a bug so she can't dissect my mind any more. Those are all best case scenarios that are impossible; they just can't happen no matter how much I want them to. I'm attached to this hook.

I just have to deal with it.

I chuckle (hiding how nervous I really am) as a clever thought hits me. Hot, shot electricity runs through my brain and kicks it into gear - like jump starting a wood chipper before feeding it logs. "It's just that I'm used to seeing dirty ol' men hanging around and swinging them big axes around," I pause, second guessing myself if this is really the best thing to say, "maybe I just ain't used to seeing, girls and like pretty girls just here." I finish (and this time I don't look to the ground).

(Can't you do anything right Jason?)

It's simplistic and dumb but -for once- it's true and stutter free.

"Just thought I'd be all alone y'see."

I'm not off the hook yet because getting off the hook would mean doing something right and that's impossible for me.

J a s o n + M a t h e s o n

{And I feel like takin off
Let me be your supernova
Before you make the biggest mistake of your life
Just give me the chance to get it right, get it right}

People always told me that words are nothing but wind, but that ain't true in the slightest.

It's strange hearing myself say words that are so risky so confidently. There was not a single hesitation or stutter, I didn't cut myself off, I didn't second guess my words or try and take them back. I simply let them roll off my tongue and hang in the air and that was that. What am I expecting? I don't even know myself but she demanded an answer and all of my tangled words just wouldn't get me anywhere if I'm being completely honest. I simply told the truth and in that truth there was a compliment.

People don't tend to appreciate my compliments and I've never understood why; whether they be family members or strangers they just won't have it and once again I've found myself on the receiving end of a wave of insults (idiot, dimwit, stupid) but at this point I've just learned to take it. But from her I don't think I would be able to take it; I can tell just by looking that she wouldn't be the same. I hope I didn't make her even more mad because I truly did my best. She probably will because I can't do anything right.

Oh, but it's true what I said; not one word of it was a lie. Now that I've had a good look at her I know full well that she's something special. She's not like all the other girls I've seen in the District. I may not be the sharpest axe on the rack but I'd like to think I know people. She doesn't have that cutting look and she doesn't even seem all that mean - just in a bad mood. I'm probably wrong though, I'm always wrong about this stuff.

When her words break the air I feel myself relax. ”I am sorry for being harsh, it’s just I was expecting to be alone too.” I internally recoil at her words. She just said the word. A word I've never heard genuinely from someone (only when they're made to), a word that everybody just hates saying (especially to me), a word that's tossed around so much it's just any meaning (until now).

'Sorry.'

No flood of swearing, or fists and brutal bruises. Just like that she's admitted she's wrong. Harsh. Imaginary fireworks and bells ring and explode in my head at the word, at the confession. My heart speeds up and begins thudding against my ribcage like a blunt axe on a sturdy tree. Oh how the tables have turned. Just a minute ago I felt myself dangling on the hook, I felt her examining my insides with a magnifying glass like I was a dead bird. Now she's like me, her eyes fixed on the floor and she's drawing deep breaths.

I don't like that.

But before I can even say anything she's moved her gaze back up at me, her blue eyes have softened from piercing through my soul to simply looking at me, looking at Jason. ”I’m Helen, weather is getting better, isn’t it?” She introduces herself calmly and I inhale, taken back by her actually saying more than one non-hostile sentence at me. She's actually talking to me.

Helen, I don't think I know any other girls called Helen; or maybe I do but I just don't remember cos she's the only Helen significant to me right me. The one I've got my mind on. I tend to do that, forget things that I shouldn't but do because something better is right there in front of me. Her words about the weather almost completely sail right past me - she actually introduced herself to me willingly and that's what matters the most.

(Can't you do anything right Jason?)

I'm gonna start, I'm gonna start by making her not hate me; there's no way I can fail that because I'm already halfway there - I think. Her words told me that. "Name's Jason," I reply, smiling with sweet relief that I've averted another flood of hurtful words. She asked me about the whether. I mentally remind myself and almost hastily add to my sentence. "Yea definitely, but could be better, but 'suppose I can't be complainin' I guess." I say as I hold up my left arm that's mostly exposed because the jacket is too small with a wide, toothless grin.

I shouldn't be affected be words cos they're just wind but that ain't possible. These past and next few words feel like the most important words ever spoken in my entire life.

J a s o n + M a t h e s o n

{And I feel like takin off
Let me be your supernova
Before you make the biggest mistake of your life
Just give me the chance to get it right, get it right}

How?

How am I doing something right? I think this is the longest I've gone without someone getting angry at me, throwing liquid in my face, throwing food at me, calling me all sorts of names that I just won't repeat. No. This can't be real; Jason Matheson doesn't simply get things right. Considering how this all started, considering how barely two minutes ago she looked like she was going to shout at me for being a stupid idiot. If this had hadn't a week ago I would've ended up with more bad words thrown at me and that wouldn't be good.

This ain't right, this doesn't follow the usual pattern. Usually she'd get angry and every word I say would make it worse until she finally explodes and decides to do something physical to me or something. This ain't right because I don't talk to girls, especially the pretty ones, without them thinking I'm some sort of idiot or me doing something embarrassing. This ain't right because I'm doing something right. But I don't do things right, do I?

But here she is, calm as a soft empty breeze. There ain't no hostility in her voice, she isn't turning red from head to toe in rage or embarrassment at running into me. Hell, she even told me her name. Someone shouted at me and I didn't even know their name once. Helen, her name is Helen. I put that in the back of my mind and hope to whatever big guy is up there in the sky that I don't forget it like I usually would. That would be a mess, I forget her name. Helen. Helen. Helen. Simple name, four letters I shouldn't forget that.

If there's one thing I won't forget it's that face an-

”You just out walking then?” She asks.

And that voice, her voice when she ain't irritated or angry at a random guy bumping into her. Helen, just remember Helen and match it to the face. I just need to keep telling myself that. If I can't forget her face then I got no right to forget her name. Helen. Helen. Helen. If I forget it now it would be pretty damn embarrassing, more embarrassing than when I forgot Iain's name that one time (can't you do anything right Jason?) but it won't be like that this time. I won't mess this up.

She asked me if I was out walking and I almost open my mouth to say 'yes' but it ain't that simple. I'm not 'just walking' aimlessly. I do that sometimes, take lots of time to be in the forest like it's a second home. But this isn't one of those times. There's a reason, there's a purpose. I'm trying to get away from everything. I'm running away, I never expected to see anyone or bump into someone; I'm just trying my best to get away.

"Not walking, I'm just trying to get away." I tell her, mentally forcing my gaze to stay in her piercing blue eyes. It was sudden, instinctive basically and no real thought went into it. The truth and nothing but the truth. I don't know if she'd want to hear it, about my problems and shadows I'm trying to run away from. No one cares anyway. I don't think Helen wants to hear about that, stupid Jason. I just want to talk to her about good things, get my mind of the struggles that follow me around closer than my own shadow.

(Can't you do anything right Jason?)

I can, I'm gonna start right now.

I'm wearing a genuine smile when I next speak. "Never mind that, mind walking with me?" I ask Anything to truly get away from that house of madness.

J a s o n + M a t h e s o n

{And I feel like takin off
Let me be your supernova
Before you make the biggest mistake of your life
Just give me the chance to get it right, get it right}

I don't know what I was expecting to be honest. Okay, I was really half expecting her to say no and tell me to go away or something of the sort, at least that's how it would usually go. People don't usually want to talk with me let alone walk with me. Honestly, I doubt my own siblings would hold a conversation with me for this long without throwing out some sort of insult. Ouch. And yet here she is, this stranger, actually standing here and talking to me. No, she's not a stranger because I know her name. Helen, her name is Helen. H-E-L-E-N. Just Helen.

See, I remembered. I remembered those letters, her name is Helen and she's talking to me. Sheissayingwordstome. I don't think Ian would gone into a conversation this long without getting frustrated and shouting degrading terms and words at me and that's never good. I internally wince as he slams the verbal door in my face, dignity shattered and unfixible. Nothing much can be said when the older brother marks you with his words and asks you questions that brand you.

Can't you do anything right Jason? I'm working on it.

She rubs arm buried under the sleeve of a coat and we're silent for the second. Throat dry and tightening the anticipation is like the burning heat of a long drought. Worst case scenario plays like broken footage in my head before my very eyes. No, go away. A sentence as simple as that can send me careening over the edge. Words aren't wind because they have weight, and that means they're hurtful.

When she opens her mouth to speak I'm internally cringing and my stomach has knotted itself at least half a million times. Words are nothing but wind. That's a lie because wind if weightless and these words feel heavy and have impact. More impact than my thudding heart against my ribcage that's slowly moving up to my throat, more impact than the stroke of an axe that fells are a sturdy, unmovable tree. The anticipation is suffocating.

I inhale.

”Yeah okay, where too?”

I exhale.

The words gracefully tumble from her tongue and I allow them to wash over me. There's no resentment, she don't sound irritated, she don't sound like she wants to be anywhere but here. I'm not a smart one but I think she said that because she wants to. I think. Words have weight, which means they have impact and those words powered relief through me like a nail through wood.

I cringe internally - a man like Ian slams the verbal door in my face, but Helen opens it up again, dignity restored and all.

I smile externally, the blissful medicine of relief flooding my veins. My gaze refuses to drop to her feet like they had done just moment before when it seemed inevitable she would slam the door in my face. My vision rests on her face like any normal person having a conversation. Her painted blue eyes aren't so piercing any more and her mouth isn't knitted in an angered scowl.

"Anywhere," I respond but such a short answer makes me wince.

No, that's not right, that's not right at all.

"Although, I'm pretty tired of this forest; let's go somewhere else." I add on, silently relaxing at salvaging myself. We're just gonna walk, and talk and no one can interrupt us. And no one's gonna degrade, no one's gonna shout at me this time. It seems like an impossible thought but a very real possibility.

A silent sigh of relief escapes my lips when I my legs begin carrying me through the forest ground, fully expecting her to follow. She said she'd come. I guess this is what goes on when people walk and talk. It feels so right. A foreign feeling resurfacing.

(Can't you do anything right Jason?) I'm slowly getting there - I think.