Work Text:
It was not a good idea.
It was not a good idea at all.
He longs for the comfort of his assistance dog. But she isn’t here. She fell down a hole when they were cutting through the construction site.
And now she’s gone.
He has no choice but to follow her. He hates being underground.
They are building a flat over the subway station.They did not bury it well.
It is very dark.
He hates being underground.
He hates the rumbling walls when he’s underground.
He hates trains.
He hates that he can’t dig his way out when everything implodes.
His arms are weak.
He can’t leave her.
He can only descend. Flounder. Drown.
His head swims.
He hates trains.
The walls will close on him.
He will be in a casket that is four feet long.
Because he is overdue for his death.
It will be him and his dog and his ghosts in the cold dark earth.
He can’t breath.
The station should be closed. It has been closed for a long long time.
Ever since her .
Red on the tracks in arms and legs and guts.
His father left him and then she did.
She held his hand to the end of the platform. Train headed for the city.
But only she left.
Red on the tracks all arms and legs and guts.
The station rumbles. He waits for a train to course down the tracks.
He imagines taking the last train. It will be dirty.
It will be forgotten.
It will be quiet.
He will wonder if he is getting closer to his dog.
Until she screams.
Crunch
She must have regretted it at the last minute.
Poor boy.
Both parents at such a young age.
Everything will stop.
Her shoes will be on the platform.
They are black.
They are bigger than his hand.
She is gone and he wants to know:
Did she regret it?
Mother. Mother mother mother . Worst of traitors. Ghost. Monster .
He misses her dearly. He could have left with her .
One little body on the track and a big one next to it.
Two bodies of the same size if he could do it now.
She held his hand to the end of the platform.
Her hand can’t hold his any more.
She has no pictures. She has no face.
There were only arms and legs and guts.
There is nothing to hold.
I took my skin for granted
She must be buried here with the tracks.
He imagines fingers and ghosts.
He imagines hands that bind him to the ground.
His breath will slow.
He will sink.
He imagines the monsters in the tunnel.
Everybody in the earth.
Him and Mother.
Underground forever.
He misses her dearly.
She’s gone.
He should have followed her.
The station is still calling his life.
How can he find her in the dark?
He waits for a pull on his hand.
It never comes. He flounders.
The world spins.
He waits to sink.
He hates trains.
He hates the subway station.
He fell.
There will be bruises on his knees.
The flashlight on his phone is draining.
There is sand in his shoe.
He wonders what will be at the end of the line.
That must be where they bury the train.
That must be where they keep her in a body bag.
She crawls to him in the dark.
She has no hands.
He hides from the mirror.
She will be there and she wants her shoes.
Black shoes bigger than his hand.
It’s too dark to move and too dark to stay.
Right now is a good time to die.
It make sense.
He should follow her.
He will give Deception to the cute lass at the internet cafe.
He will find a way to haunt the annoying man that kills Deception.
He will give his uncle the finger.
He will pray for his dog to find him.
Then he will wait for the subway train.
This time he will hold Mother’s hand.
She will scream. He will not.
There are rats on the wall.
He fancies monsters.
They could eat the arms and legs and guts
If they can eat her they can eat him .
Eat him. Start with his eyes.
Then his ears.
He does not want to see or hear.
I wanna scoop out my cheeks so you can’t pinch them anymore
If he stays here…
If he stays…
Will he be found?
Will he find?
Can his dog find him?
He is a thing of blood, guts, face. She will not find him.
She will find a boy at the station.
A boy with Mother walking to the end.
They will fall.
When they are buried in the tracks it will be bright.
If she sees what she did she will scream
Her fault.
She left him and nobody likes him.
He steps on a mirror.
The surface cracks.
His world cracks.
He can’t see her in the glass.
The station is closed.
He wants to go home.
He wants to go back to his uncle who doesn’t care about him.
He wants to go to his room and play Glory.
He has short legs. It’s hard to run from Mother and his dog isn’t there to lead him.
He wants to go home. He can’t abandon her.
He is scared of things that can hide in the dark.
At the end of the tunnel.
Behind him in a mirror.
In the back of his head.
He misses her dearly.
So how are you feeling?
Do you feel these sessions are still helping?
You could try something more… direct.
We could start In Vivo exposure therapy…
“Mo Fan. Mo Fan.”
Qiao Yifan peers at him with wide eyes.
His assistance dog is next to him. His face is wet. He’s not sure if it’s drool or tears.
“Are you ok?”
He remembers.
It is summer. Ye Xiu just retired.
Mother is gone.
Uncle is gone.
He is here.
He has practice.
He breathes for the first time in years.
“I’m fine.”
He is.