do you feel the pressure? [mary]

[Zachary Briar]

The food looked disgusting; like a pile of mush on his plate, a pile of mush with too much baggage he didn't want to claim. He poked at the sloppy joe with his fork, never intending to put it in his mouth. He didn't think he could swallow it down if he tried. A part of him was hungry and knew that his body was too. It had been three days since he ate anything substantial, but the growling stopped two days ago and the hunger pangs were non-existent. His body was too accustomed to it. He didn't feel anything, except for an emptiness that he sometimes revelled in. Right now, he just felt nauseous. He didn't know why he was here—sitting at a table with food he wasn't planning on eating. Things were quiet for him right then; silent. No voice piping in to taunt him about the food, because he wasn't eating it. And he didn't have a view of the mirror, so that hideous creature couldn't look back at him and laugh. He took the water bottle to his life in hand and unscrewed the top, taking a long sip of it. Water was safe. Safe and clean. In all his time here, he didn't bother to talk to anyone really. No one except for the school's very own little killer. They didn't put the pieces together very quickly. But, it wasn't really his business if they did or didn't. His business was with said killer. Whether out of disgust or irritation, Zachary had the other male fastened in his sight a great deal of the time. He was interesting, but he lacked the moral compass that Zach thought he had and he likened himself to bring more of an art out in it. But, to each his own, right?

He was feeling shaky again. He was always shaky. Nothing was ever settled in him, even when he slept. The boy was a walking encyclopaedia of problems, stemming from all over the place. Zachary knew he didn't belong here, but he had never belonged anywhere. He was homesick, but it didn't matter. He couldn't go back there, not with his father's loathing and his mother's silence. Zachary would be sentenced back to his fate at the asylum and he didn't want to be there either. He was tired of feeling numb and quiet. He didn't like the silence or being unable to feel. It made him feel robotic and made him sick to his stomach. The pills hurt and the nurses were cruel. At least, he saw it all from a very awful perspective. He didn't want needles jabbed into him like a science experiment. He wanted his only companion to leave him alone, but not at that expense. He needed lucidity and the only thing that gave him that was blood... And only for a moment. And it had to be the right circumstances, the right everything. As his thoughts wandered, he shook his head, fighting them off with unease.

He dropped his fork, knowing how senseless it was to keep poking. He raked his hand through his dark hair, pushing it away from his face. He couldn't stop moving. Zachary sat in a far corner table, all by himself, because he chose it that way. He didn't want to be close to anyone. He put a wall around himself sometimes. He knew he was a freak, knew that he didn't deserve the contact. He barely knew how to react anymore. He was like the proverbial elephant in the room... No one talked about him, but they knew he was there.

Melodramatic freak.

Oh and just when he thought he had peace... He dropped his head to his hands, elbows on the table and shut his eyes.

[Deleted]

"This has nine hundred and fifty calories. Did you know that would feed three children for breakfast in Africa?" Mary questioned the kid who was buying lunch ahead of her. The kid gave her a look and as soon as he had paid, took off across the cafeteria. The blond sighed and paid for her sandwich and apple before she turned to venture further, finding a table. That was hard. It looked like all of the tables were full. She stood patiently, analyzing each table before she spotted one that only one boy was sitting at. Immediately, she walked over.

Setting the tray down, she pulled out a container of disinfectant wipes. "I hope you don't mind. All of the other tables are full. And, well, they never clean these enough." She wiped the table top down before sitting down across from him. Immediately, she put her hands together and closed her eyes. "Blessed be thy lord for giving us such bountiful food. And may the lord continue to nourish the kids back in Africa. Amen" she spoke softly before opening her milk. She looked at the boy and gave a smile. "I don't see why they even offer whole milk. They really should be saving it. There's so many kids and people who are starving, even in this very city. Whole milk should be saved for people who need it to keep from passing on, you know? I mean sure, the Lord takes away when it is that person's time, but I don't think he minds giving out rainchecks to people who can be helped. And-" she stopped. Once more, she was going on about charities and starving people. Mary sighed. Asriel had warned her against talking about it. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to bother you" she immediately apologized. Twiddling with the spoon in her hand, she bit her lip. "I'm Mary"

[Zachary Briar]

Was she talking to him? Zachary had to pause, glancing from right to left, unsure of whether or not she was actually addressing him. It was a natural reaction, because nobody sat near him and no one spoke to him. He wasn't cruel to anyone, but he had a stand-offish personality, he supposed. He was quiet and he liked his peace. People often made him nervous. He could plaster on the smiles and the charm. His dad had taught him all the tricks of the trade when he was a kid. Smile at the camera, Zachary. Shake the man's hand. Things like that. Things that a politician's son had to do because he was a part of the family image. His dad used to parade them everywhere as this perfect family. They'd be in newspapers, in the media, giving New York a pretty, perfect family to look at. It wasn't perfect though. Behind the curtain there weren't so many smiles. There were flaws, millions of flaws. His father had lost faith in him a long time ago. He wasn't the ideal son. There were a lot of things wrong with him. And it started young, not all attributed to the things his father had done or said. He was naturally shy and a little anti-social, he was incredibly intelligent, but uninterested in being too close to people. When his illnesses started to set in, that was the final straw. His father's frustration for it was taken out on him. And eventually, when it got too bad, he tried to bury him in a hospital so that he couldn't haunt him.

Starving kids. What d'you think she thinks of all the food you waste?

Zachary didn't like that question. He didn't give a lot of thought to starving kids anywhere. It wasn't something that he could focus on. And when it came to food, he spent his time discarding it anyway he could. He barely nourished himself, but not from lack of food, but from lack of a correct perception. He took a small breath and tucked his hair behind his ear to try to gather himself. He was good at hiding what he heard, even when it started to affect him deeply. "No, it's okay," he said out loud, giving her a small, shy smile.

Liar.

It was all right. He just didn't know how to take her comments. Of course, it made him feel a little low to the ground. He couldn't eat that food. It was too much. There were people that starved and he forced himself into a level of starvation and purging whatever the hell he did eat. He felt sick again, and he should feel sick. It was the feeling that made him alive, wasn't it? It was something he couldn't escape no matter how hard he clawed at it. He gave a small nod, but he wasn't trying to comment on food or starving anything. He didn't even know where he stood on God and she had been praying. Zachary didn't know exactly what he felt about anything. He was mixed up and his thoughts went back and forth. "I'm Zach." Then, trying his best to be social and not make the girl run from the table screaming because she was sitting across from the freak, he added: "You like to help people, don't you?"

Out of your league, psycho.

[Deleted]

Mary smiled and nodded. "Zach. I like that name. It's a good name" she said before unwrapping her sandwich. Hearing his question, she nodded. "I do. It's kind of my way of getting away from everything" she explained as she played with the plastic wrapping. "Sometimes you have so much going on that you can't deal with. And everyone needs a way to lash out. Mine was just sort of packing my bags and going to Africa." Not exactly lashing out. Still, she had tried to maintain some sense of mental health. And she thought that she could just get away.

She stared down at the plastic wrapping. She had unwrinkled every bit of it. With a sigh, she looked back up at him. "I'm new. Sort of. I went here last year and started this year, but then I went on independent study when I went to build schools and stuff. And I'm really sorry if I should know you but I mean, look at the color of my hair" she said with a smile. "I don't really remember you. Did you move here this year?"

[Zachary Briar]

Oh look, one point for you.

The voice was mocking him. It didn't deny that maybe his name was all right. But it was just a name and in that tone he heard the implication that nothing else was good about him. It made him shudder and he picked up his fork again and thought about poking at his fork again, but stopped, dropped it and folded his arms instead, the sleeves of his sweatshirt pulled to cover most of his hands. He was insecure and he hoped it didn't show as much as he knew it probably did. Listening to her further, he looked down at his food again. Zach didn't know if he ever had only a little going on. He never knew how to deal with himself. He didn't know where control came in. He controlled situations in self-destructive ways. Zachary never knew how to handle the plate he was given. No one did. His dad thought he could beat it out of him and his mother did nothing but question him and go silent. He remembered every time, after a particularly brutal encounter with his dad, he'd hear her voice in the doorway as he tried to pull himself up again. Always asking him why. "Why, Zachie, why?" She sounded so heartbroken and Zach didn't understand why she asked him it, as if it was his fault that it all went down. He wanted to scream at her sometimes, ask her why, because he didn't have the answers. He didn't know what he did to deserve what was happening to him, or why he was so damn different. And he couldn't describe why it felt so good to put someone's life in his hands. Someone that disgusted him and deserved it. He played God. That was real control.

Think she'd like your way?

Of course not.

Does that knife of yours help people?

Kind of. Zachary didn't know why it bothered with that line of questioning. It supported him when he did it, helped him wield that knife in one swift stroke. And then, it condemned him. He didn't know if he felt guilt for it. He felt sick sometimes, but not guilt, because it was deserving and he had to do it. He couldn't stop himself. He wouldn't be able to and that craving was there again. He wanted so badly to take someone else. No one here, of course. And not the girl in front of him. She was kind and she noticed him.

Even if you were here the whole time, she'd have never noticed you.

He knew that! The dark haired boy didn't need a reminder. He wasn't noticeable and never had been. He could blend into the walls better than he could stand out. But gently, he shook his head. "I'm new too. Just started recently." He explained. At least the conversation seemed to be going okay. For now. He didn't even give the voice a chance to pipe in with a pessimistic point of view. He grabbed a hold of it faster. He just wanted it to shut up. Had he been alone, he might have yelled at it, or murmured, but he was good at this game. He was good at keeping his mouth closed and not answering the damn thing. Well, sometimes. There were times that he it became too much and he couldn't stop himself. It was there and it was real as hell. He knew he was the only one that heard it, but it didn't make it any less of a reality.

[Deleted]

Mary had picked up her sandwich at the same time as he picked up his fork. She started to take a bite, before he dropped it and folded his arms. The girl bit her lip and slowly set it down. His mannerisms...she knew them. Now, Mary was never one to make assumptions, but she recognized something in him that she had displayed herself a couple of years ago. Back when she had cut for a little while. She looked at the brown haired boy and sighed. "Well, Welcome to Degrassi. Or, as I like to call it, Soap Opera City. I don't know if you've noticed or not yet. A lot of drama goes on here. It can be hard to avoid. But. I guess that's high school"

She picked up her apple and twisted it, to get the stump off. "So, Zach. What grade are you in? I'm in tenth. I actually have a twin brother. Asriel. And a younger sister Tracy. We had an older brother too, but he sort of got killed in a hostage thing at the beginning of the year. Oh, but we have this other family who lives with us now since their home burned down, so it's kind of like having more siblings. There's Dalton, and Augusta, Alexis....and I forget the others but there's at least two more. We kind of have a bunch of people in our small apartment. What about you? Any family?"

[Zachary Briar]

Zachary was hyper aware of every look he received and he watched her drop her sandwich and dropped his eyes again. Soap opera was an understatement. He already noticed the drama. Hell, the place had a serial killer! Maybe they didn't all know it, but the bastard was picking off kids from the school! Zachary knew most high schools had drama. He barely paid attention at his old ones. Zach grew up in the private school system and did poorly in it because he couldn't integrate well and always wanted to be home. He was smart, no one doubted that. When he actually did his work, the boy was far too advanced for his own good. "Yeah, it's dramatic, hard to miss that." Again, he tried for a faint smile, even a quiet chuckle. Was he even a little convincing?

You're a little dramatic.

He was nodding along okay when she talked about her family, despite how nostalgic it was making him feel. He missed his own family, even though he was sure that he wasn't missed. It was when she asked him about his that he went even more silent. Was that possible? He looked down, adjusting his sleeves again out of a habit. "Uh... Not really." He answered after swallowing. How could he talk about them? Sure, millions of pictures would say different. But this wasn't New York or a private school where public figures and their families were well known. In Toronto, he slipped into the background so easily. But, rightfully so. He wasn't the same polished boy that his dad tried to make him into. He was never that kid.

Oh, come on, let's tell her about mommy and daddy. And pretty little Becky too?

He shook his head, before realizing that he had done it. He didn't want to talk about his family, especially not his dad, or his little sister. Family was not a subject that he wanted to grasp at. Unsure of what to say, he looked at her again. "Your family sounds nice though. I'm uhm, sorry about your brother." He added, and he was kind of sorry about that. She seemed like a nice girl and she helped people. She didn't deserve tragedy to strike her. It was a genuine sentiment, even if he felt like he was somehow under a spotlight and he wanted to push away from it. He didn't like talking about himself. He had too many skeletons in his closet. Too many that were deadly and disgusting. Zachary had never done well with people. And he couldn't change it. He couldn't force himself to be the type that was easy to interact with. No matter what he did to make himself that way, Zach usually failed miserably and no thanks to the damn voice that made his life so difficult. He couldn't carry on a conversation with it whispering in his head.

[Deleted]

Mary's eyes softened when he said he had no family. She knew what it was like--she had lost her brother and her mother. "I'm sorry" she apologized for asking the question. Her mind spun with questions. Was he a foster kid then? Was he in a nice home or in one of those group homes? Did he remember having a family or was he always in the system. She knew she shouldn't pry. And she wouldn't. Instead, she slipped off her backpack and zipped it open. Pulling out a small card, she slid it across the table to him. It had a cross on it and said Christ Welcomes You!

"My dad runs this church over on Newberry. He also runs a YMCA just across the street from the church. And I get that church isn't for everyone, but it's not just sermons. There's activities, and they can be quite entertaining. I volunteer there a lot, and I know a couple of people do too, though Rumor's in the hospital so you wouldn't get to meet her for a while. But you should stop by. The doors are open twenty-four/seven so if you need anything, even if it's to get out of the foster home you're in, you can come. I mean, we have people from all walks of life."

[Zachary Briar]

Zachary reached for his water bottle again, trying to swallow his anxiety in water. Her apology wasn't accepted and instead he shook his head, trying to convey that she didn't need to apologize. It was a fair and normal question. Even if he wasn't used to conversation like this, he knew that it was. In bars, Zach had no problem lying to people. He could lie his way in the door and he could lie to women easy. His first two kills he'd charmed and lied his way through. But then when it came to something else, something genuine, he couldn't do it. He had a hard time lying to people that were kind. Unless he knew he had to. He would never just admit things that would get him hurt or in trouble. But he didn't like to lie when it probably wouldn't matter either way. "No, it's okay." When she slipped the card across the table, he stared at it for a moment.

Think Jesus welcomes Satanic little psychos?

Zach wasn't Satanic. He wasn't anything. But he definitely didn't fall under the right category for religious, he knew that. He committed sins that were above and beyond the normal. There were two women dead at his hands and he knew God found it wrong, even if he didn't think it was that horrible. He had to do it. There was no other way, and it wasn't fair. "I haven't been to church in a long time." He admitted. His parents used to go, and he was sure it was a part of keeping a certain look. But he stopped going years ago, because his father couldn't stand him there, he supposed. He didn't know what it was, but he made excuses for him not to be there. Zachary wasn't good enough to be in that scene. "But thanks, I'll look into it..."

Not your type there, is it? Gonna branch out?

"I don't live in a foster home." He corrected after a moment. It was the mention of the Y that kind of surprised him. It was a coincidence. "Actually, I'm staying at the YMCA." It wasn't a location he was proud of. He didn't take any pride in not having a home, but it was better than being home and it was also better being in that damn hospital. But, what was he supposed to say about himself? That his family was in New York and he was sent to Canada to be shoved under lock and key and a heavy amount of drugs? That he was too smart, busted out and ended up here, living in a YMCA and losing his mind further? Zachary didn't like that version of the story and he'd much rather change it around and pretend it was different. He wasn't going to admit to a lot of things, especially not that. But he might as well let her know where he was staying. If her dad ran the place, it'd be awkward to run into her after a lie about where he lived.

[Deleted]

She felt like she could cry. The YMCA? Why? Wasn't there room in their apartment for just one more? She would definitely find out. She didn't like some of the people at the Y. It gave her the creeps. She didn't like the way some of them looked at her. And she had definitely seen her share of creepy homeless guys. But Mary knew it wasn't right to judge. She listened to him and nodded slowly. "You're always welcome. No matter how long it's been." she assured him. She knew her father would never turn anyone down.

"But either way, we should hang out sometime. Not everyone can sit there and listen to my Jesus-loves-everyone and save-the-starving-children talk and not run the other way. I've never understood it. I can scare people faster than any of the school bullies can. But you seem like the kind of guy who might understand. And hey, if you ever need anything, I'm here for you. I lead all of the troubled teen activities. There's so many kids out there who do things like cutting, and all they really need is a friend." she smiled at him, to let him know that it was okay. "I never judge, no matter what it is"

[Zachary Briar]

Hang out? That wasn't an offer that he received often at all. Actually, he didn't know the last time he ever heard it. It had to be close to forever. He didn't talk to people a lot, therefore he didn't make the connections necessary to 'hang out'. He was a teenager and something as simple as hanging out was a mystery to him. He didn't know why he was set apart so far. He wanted to be normal, but knew it was impossible. He tried to integrate and all his life he tried to in some way. But he always ended up somewhere on the outside, distanced from everyone else. "Thanks," he said, while still unsure if he should give church a try. It felt a little uncomfortable, just knowing how different he was from the rest. And he didn't feel as though God would want to see him. If God existed. God must loathe him. Because really, that was the nature of what he was. He was disgusting, at best.

"Oh, I'm okay, I'm not... troubled." Lies lies lies. And on cue, he heard laughter, but not at his lie. It was because of that last comment. No matter what it was? It wasn't funny, but the voice laughed loudly in his head, like a taunting amused laughter. He winced, his head starting to pound a little and he bowed his head for a moment, touching a hand to his forehead. "Stop." He whispered quietly to himself, hoping it went unheard, before opening his eyes again and looking at her apologetically and knowing that he was losing some control. "Sorry, I get headaches sometimes..." He said, and that wasn't untrue, it just wasn't the whole truth either. "But thanks, again. If I have any problems, I'll come to you." He showed gratitude even if he knew that he never could. His problems went above most. "But yeah, hanging out sounds nice." He admitted and it did. He kind of wanted a friend, even if he didn't know half of what to do with one. And after he said it the voice piped in again, amused and taunting. He hated it, but nothing made it stop. Except for pills that he hadn't had in a long time and didn't plan to put back in his system again.

[Deleted]

Mary reached out and touched his arm. "You know--" and there it was. The word stop. A word that anyone else would have used long ago. But she didn't understand it. What had she done? "Oh. Ok. I'm-" she started to apologize, when he did. She smiled at him, relieved that it wasn't her. "I totally get it. I get these insane headaches sometimes too. I sometimes get scared about what it means, but that's just because I'm a survivor." She shrugged, no longer concerned with it.

"But if you have a headache, I have some medicine. It's not really allowed on campus. But the nurse always refuses to give medication away anyways. Would you like some? Maybe it'll make your headache go away" she suggested and actually started fishing through her backpack for it. Hey, whatever helped ,right?