Around 8 (hey I eat slow when I'm tired. Also I was reading.) Skye stumbled down the stairs, looking incredibly tired.
"Stay up late reading?" I asked, suppressing a yawn.
"Y-yeah," he mumbled, making a beeline for the stove.
"You wanna spar again today?" I asked. He looked over and blushed. I was confused before I realized that I hadn't bothered to change out of what I slept in, some Iron Man boxers and a sports bra. I chuckled again when he pointedly looked away.
"S-sure..." He mumbled as he waited for the pan to heat up.
I shrugged before I got up and put my plate in the sink, running some hot water over it to get rid of some of the syrup that I had drowned my pancakes in.
Around 9:30 we were both out back. I was stretching again, and Skye was looking away. "Alright," I called out and he turned back around. "Basically we spar until someone gives up or you get the other person in a position that would render them dead. This includes any form of hold that the other person cannot get out of, and light blows to the throat. Got it? Oh, and make sure to hit me this time," I rolled my eyes.
"O-okay..." Skye trailed of
Without warning, I rushed forward and aimed a punch at Skye's stomach. He blocked it and aimed at my shoulder. I ducked down and swung my leg out, trying to sweep his legs out from under him. My foot connected with the back of his knee, causing him to buckle. I struck out and hit his shoulder, then his chest, causing him to drop down to one knee.
I saw his eyes narrow as I went to kick him in his side and figured that he was just kinda pissed. Boy was I wrong. He grabbed my leg and threw me to his right while he stood back up. I jumped up and managed to get into a steady position before Skye came at me. He threw punches so fast it was difficult to dodge or block some, and I got hit more than my pride wants to admit. He punched me square in the stomach and then again in the shoulder, throwing off my balance from my lowered center of gravity and causing me to fall onto my back. I prepared myself to vault up but he was pinning me down.
"Okay Skye, you win," I gave him a half smile. He didn't respond and instead dug his knee into my stomach. I gave a pained gasp and tried to get him off of me but he had my arms pinned down at the elbows, nearly driving them into the ground. He didn't say anything, but continued to dig his knee into my stomach.
"S-Skye seriously!" I gasped out. You know, breathing's hard when someone's crushing your diaphragm.
He took his knee off of my stomach, muttering something about "lucky he likes you" before he looked down at me again. But whereas earlier his eyes were angry they were confused and tired when he looked at me.
And then he collapsed on me. I gently shifted him so wasn't completely smothering me, careful not to wake him up. By now I had deduced what had happened. I knew he had schizophrenia, and luckily I knew a bit more than the average person about having voices inside your head. It actually seemed that the voices that he heard could influence and take him over, such as with Dissociative Identity Disorder (multiple personalities). Honestly I think the two are one all-encompassing thing seeing as they send to overlap. Anyway, enough of my psycho-babble.
So I figured that I'd let him wake up on his own time, mostly because I didn't want to have whichever voice that was come out again because I don't really think it would go over well a second time and partially because I'm a very lazy person (also the kid's warm and my normal body temperature is low for a human).
After I had hummed my way though almost the entire Vices & Virtues album I heard Skye mumble something. He shook his head and mumbled, "W-what....?"
"You comfy there?" I held back a laugh. Skye's face flushed enough to resemble a tomato and he tried to stutter out an apology.
"It's fine, I didn't wanna risk waking you up and having you go berserk again," I shrugged as much as I could with him on top of me.
"I did it again, didn't I?" he murmured sadly.
"Hey it's fine, I'm not hurt," I said, rubbing his back hesitantly.
"What did I do?" he asked.
I filled him in as quickly as I could without leaving anything out. "But it's fine, alright?"
"No! It's not okay!" The lack of stuttering surprised me. "This isn't.." His voice became almost too silent to hear. "This isn't the first time it happened and it will happen again and next time....next time will be worse."
"Hey, hey calm down Skye..." I trailed off, not really sure how to handle this. Again, people skills = horrible. "And I said I'd help you with the voices right?" I said, rubbing circles onto his back. "We can work on it, alright? I want to help you." And I meant that, there was something that made me want to help this shy kid. Maybe I saw some of the person that I was when I started running - scared and alone and confused after being tossed into this world that no one really understood.
Skye sighed and relaxed and I continued rubbing his back. Then suddenly he shot up, red as a tomato and stuttering out apologies and thing that I think were also apologies but didn't make any grammatical or syntactical sense as he scrambled up to stand. I laughed and stood up as well, following him into the house.
And now it's fucking late and I wanna get to sleep before my neighbors start setting off fireworks again... Damn rednecks it's only the third.
~Tori
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