It has been said that laughter is the best medecine. Can this be true, or do some levels of sickness or onguish prove too much for such a quick-fix cure?
By day I sleep, at night I weep...
The girl was alone, on her own with nothing but the recorded laughter of a live studio audience to keep her company. Smooth black pupils dilated from the darkness around her, obscuring her widened periwinkle irises. Her thin pink lips curved upward in a smile. They parted ever so slightly, just enough to give the barest hint of pearl-white teeth that lay below, modest and shy, hiding under their curtain of gaunt, porcelain visage.
Long pink hair: a matted mess that clung to her profusely. Frizzled strands and unkempt clumps stuck out at odd ends.
The entire mess had gotten too much to maintain recently. She simply couldn’t make the effort anymore. Besides, there really was no reason to do so anymore. To elude the arduous task, she’d consider cutting out her no-longer pink silk strands. As it stood now, her hair was more akin to an old shag carpet but such superficial fingertips no longer graced her teacup of interest. Her appearance no longer mattered. She no longer mattered. Life no longer mattered. There was nobody left to see her. They had all gone… he had gone.
She sat alone in the dark. She lay curled up on the sofa like a kitten.
−A kitten, what an absurd reference, little animals were often associated with peace and happiness. Kittens were always regarded as cute, innocent and pure whereas Lacus felt like none of those things. She felt filthy, broken, used; pre-owned, worn, busted; worthless; unwanted.
She felt so alone… and yet...
...and yet despite all this, she was content.
The girl sat alone, embraced by naught but darkness. The single speck of light, the lone trickle that dared penetrate the atmosphere, the only glow she could see came from the flickering illumination of the television that seemed to bestow the entire room in a faint blue hue.
It had gotten late and at a time when most people would be tucked up, comfortable and asleep, dreaming away the torment of this life, Lacus couldn’t tear her eyes away from the television screen. Her eyes remained open wide, her blue irises glued to the screen lick sticky cheese in a frying pan. Her lips were curled upward in a smile and her body gave a quick-fire barrage of the minutest of heaves as she silently laughed at the crazed exploits of the comedians on the classic show she was watching.
It was comedy, a classic sitcom. It was stupid. It was pointless, she knew. It was thirty year-old entertainment. It was merely a pointless distraction but she didn’t care. She needed this. If music was food for the soul then surely laughter must have been its native dialect. To smile and laugh, it just felt so good. It gave her feelings and emotions she had not experienced in such a long time. This was just what she needed. She had been feeling down and depressed for so long but for this instant in time she felt high as a kite. She was weightless and happy… or so she thought.
Beneath her laughter lies the potential of weeping. Beneath every giggle, the urge to cry deepens. Underneath each smile, uncovered is the truth.
The jokes unfurled and idiotic gags played out but as only the wisest know, good things never last and before long, all too soon – as these things do – it came to an end. As inevitable as the setting sun bringing a veil of twilight over the land in the evening, the credits rolled across the television screen to the applause of many but leaving Lacus with an empty void that could not be filled. It had been great while it lasted but even as the credits rolled, she could feel the despair and anxiety welling up inside once again.
As the names of those retired and deceased actors rolled across the screen, Lacus could feel the momentary delight die in her heart. She tried as hard as she could to keep her features set in that warm smile but internally, she knew that it would not last. It could not last. She could feel the all too familiar cold sensation, like a black hole, filling her stomach as it began to grow and thrive in its own sustaining destructive way. It was a darkness that would always feed on her soul. It would never let her rest. It drove her to the point of almost wanting it all to end. She had to know the reason, the reason why.
Why wasn’t she good enough for him?!!
Kira… how could you have left me like this?
Why wasn’t she good enough?
How could he have picked another over her?
What did that other girl have that Lacus didn’t? Kira and Flay, those two were complete opposites. They were so different. They were incompatible. Why couldn’t they see it? How can people be so blind? How could he be so blind? Why didn’t people ever see what was right in front of them? Lacus herself was guilty of this. She had always enjoyed Kira’s company but she had not truly appreciated it. One can never truly appreciate how valuable something is until it is unjustly ripped from their clawed grasp, if she had appreciated him more then perhaps…
Flay had always been far more open and forward than Lacus. Maybe if she had…
No! Kira was never that shallow.
To even think that way would be nothing but an insult. It wasn’t right. Lacus had been so happy. She thought he was happy. They were both blissfully content with each other’s company… so why?
They had seemed so right for each other. They had belonged to one another. They had each become part of the other. So much so that when Kira had left, he had taken a piece of the distraught pinkette with him and no matter how much time passed, no matter what she did, she would never get it back.
She leaned over, doubled up on the sofa and held her head between her knees. She wrapped her arms tightly around her legs and squeezed herself as tightly as she could manage and her eyes closed of their own accord. Some people tucked their knees to their chest in times of distress. Lacus was simply going to further extremes. She needed this. It was the closest she’d ever get to a real embrace.
The distressed girl opened her eyes and tilted her head to the side, turning her attention back to the television. These late-night shows had become the highlight of her life, as sad and pathetic as that may have sounded. They gave her a release; an escape from her own dreary reality; a chance, if only for a moment, to forget the god-awful truths and let go of the fact that nobody wanted her.
Lacus knew that she was a feeble sight to behold, not that anybody came to see her anymore. She was lonely and broken. She no longer cared. Without Kira, all the comfort in the world would not be even close to enough.
It has been said that Laughter is the best remedy but can that truly be so or do some levels of sickness or anguish prove too much for such a quick-fix cure? There are some days when the prospect of laughter seems unfathomable.
As with a great deal of other things, laughter served as a great help in the present but once it was over, that was it. The feeling could not be replayed again and again like a recorded television show. Each time a joke was told, it became that much less amusing. Each time something was seen, it became just a little less entertaining. Perhaps some burdens could not be buried and laughed off as easily as others. Some wounds ran far too deeply. There were people out there lacking the strength to live. Many people in the past have given into their misery and the desire to give up. They had lost the will to live over the tragic events in their past.
For all the people who had given up, there were a select few that rose up and found strength from within their own retched soul. How did these people continue? How did they move on? By comparison, these survivors made Lacus seem like a flimsy, weak little child.
Lacus Stood to her feet, allowing her head to hang and her bangs to fall over part of her face. On the nearby low table she noticed a framed picture. She knelt down, or rather dropped down to her knees and examined the photograph from a short distance. From the light emitted by the television in the distance behind her she could only make out a single figure in the picture.
She remembered the occasion well. The picture had been taken over six months ago, back when she and Kira were together. Kira’s was the only face she could see in the picture. The darkness of the room seemed to obscure her, hiding her very essence from view. It was as if the picture was telling her something. It was as if she were never even there. Perhaps that would have been preferable. The time they had spent together was like a drug but now her supply had run out and she was left with the terrible withdrawal.
Kira… I’m not part of your life anymore. Have you already forgotten about me?
Next to the picture was a small white plastic bottle. She picked it up and unscrewed the lid. She carried the lid to the window and looked out to the dead city around her. If not for the streetlights, the darkness would have blinded her.
Everyone else is fast asleep… maybe it’s time I joined them.
Lacus never went out anymore and she barely ate anything at all. She was never in the mood to eat or drink. Her hair was an untidy mess and her face had gotten thin. The one she considered her boyfriend had left her for someone better, trading her in like a used car and her friends had all given up on her. She had given up on herself. She had given up on this cruel world. It was dark and horrid, without a single redeeming quality. She wanted no place in such a world.
She knew how pitiful she looked. She knew how immature she was acting but it didn’t matter anymore. It was too late. The damage had been done. She no longer had friends. Her negative attitude had since driven them away. Her eyes closed and she raised the bottle to her lips. She was pitiful, filth, unworthy and unwanted. All that she desired was to see his face, hear his voice and be with him one more time, just once, if for only an instant. She didn’t give a single glance to the long term. This was what she wanted. She wanted him. She needed him. She was a junkie and he was her drug. She couldn’t go through this anymore. All she needed was a short-term remedy. All she needed was Kira, even if he did not feel the same way, even if he were not real. Her mouth opened and her head tilted back. She shook several pills into her mouth, feeling sure they would help. Damn the dosage, it didn’t matter anymore. At this point, she didn’t care if she woke or not. She just wanted to sleep. She would sleep her life away if she had to. She couldn’t live without him.
Kira… if I can’t be with you in life then I’ll be with you forever in my dreams.
She took one final look out at the city beyond her window before turning back to the sofa. She allowed the bottle to drop to the table, what remained inside spilled and scattered in all directions like freshly discovered ants. Without another thought, the pink-haired girl collapsed onto the sofa and curled up once more like one of those cute baby animals. She’d had enough for one night. She needed to dream away her anguish. She’d feel better when she awoke. She always did, if only for a split second but that was enough. It was for those split second moments of peace that she had been living these past few months. With this knowledge in her mind she curled herself into the foetal position and wrapped her arms around her torso in a futile self embrace, holding herself tightly and under the television’s light blue flickering hue, Lacus closed her eyes one more time.