Halfkinds: Survival and Superiority (Volume 1 - Contact)
Chapter 14 - Curtis Lawton - Monsters
November 16, 3040 11:25 PM
I'm on my way to the Gonzalez station, ready to help my family one last time. It's only been minutes since I left, but so much is on my mind.
When we were growing up, I would go on the infospace and see what other animals looked like. Humans, crocodiles, dogs, cats, tigers, all of them are so beautiful. They look the way that God intended. But when I look in the mirror, I don't see any of that. I see this grotesque mess of human features with scales, teeth, and monstrous eyes. I see something that is a mistake, something ugly, something terrifying. I become frightful, yet entranced. And then, I realize that I'm looking at myself.
And I become disgusted.
I hate myself. When I was a child, I learned what I truly was, what my place was in this society. Since then, not a moment goes by where I wish I wasn't dead. I don't belong here, I don't belong anywhere. Not among my family, not among the rest of the world. I am a monster.
What Tiago fails to see, what the others fail to see, is that the world is right. He thinks that we are one of a kind, that we deserve to live, but I disagree. We are abominations. I wonder sometimes why we are here, what purpose do monstrosities like us serve? But I can't find any answers.
My mother told me I'm part man, part crocodile. I don't see it. The only way I could be of those two species is if someone put a human and a croc right next to each other, got two mallets and started smashing away until the two separate entities became a single being. A mixture of teeth and bones, skin and leather, hands and claws. Then you would have me.
Out of self-pity, I would ask why am I like this? I don't know who I was asking. It certainly wasn't God. I don't think he would've made me the way I am and if he did, he doesn't seem like a God to me.
Growing up was hard. My brothers and sisters didn't say anything, but I could see it in their eyes, they were afraid of me. Some, the more cowardly ones like Leonard, Lombardi, and Maddie, showed their fear with utmost clarity. Their voices would shake when they talked to me, their hands trembled when they approached me. I've known them all my life and it has always been the same. I didn't have the most approachable demeanor, but when your brothers and sisters can't even look at you face to face, you realize that perhaps you are the monster they fear so much.
The other siblings also dreaded interacting with me, but the terror they displayed was much more subtle. Instead of it showing on their faces or voices, they did it with their actions. I was always the elephant in the room, their interactions with me were awkward and hesitant. I couldn't bond with any of them like true family. It's hard to have deep conversations when a pair of knife-sharp jaws are glaring from your mouth. It's hard to horseplay and have fun when a wrong tug means a dislocated shoulder. Even our supposed tough guy, Alex, didn't want anything to do with me, probably because he knew I could snap his arm off if I wanted to.
I wouldn't dare, though, because I love my family. Even through all this hell, they mean the world to me.
There is one brother who doesn't fear me - Tiago. He doesn't act the same way as my other siblings do. I don't see him avoiding eye contact when we talk and I don't see his body posture shrivel up. He stands chest out, head high, eyes focused. He walks confidently when he approaches me and speaks to me like a normal being. In fact, sometimes I sense a bit of arrogance, as if he's demonstrating his authority. He wants me to know that he's not scared. I'm not sure if I'm the one who should be petrified.
That is the way my oldest brother is. He wants people to know that he is the alpha male, that he is the boss and he doesn't have to say a word. He just has to stand there and act like himself.
Still, it was nice to have someone to talk to. Tiago and I wouldn't have serious chats about the meaning of life, we just spoke of things any youth would speak about. Dreams of leaving Primm, of finding a place away from mother's control, a place where we could be accepted. I hold these talks close to my heart.
He knew, and still knows, that behind this rough, horrifying exterior lies someone who is dying inside. At first, he didn't understand why I loathe myself so much. He tried to convince me I had power. I was, and still am, bigger than the others. I'm supplied with natural gifts and could easily outmuscle my brothers and sisters. Tiago couldn't fathom why someone with such natural ability didn't try to take advantage of it.
I would tell him it wasn't for me. I am not one to seize power for my own. I am one who merely wishes to exist, who wishes to be happy. My appearance makes me elude this goal. It causes me great pain to know that some beings can't find joy in the world.
But despite my self-hate, I will not act in fits of rage or take what is not mine. I won't release my pain on others, just on myself.
Tiago is like that, searching for power, for survival. It is his way, not mine. Many times he has tried to convince me otherwise and many times I tell him I'm not interested. Sometimes his persistence bothers me, he doesn't like to hear the word no. Most times, I wonder why he is so tenacious in the first place.
I see what he has done with Alex. My rhino-like brother is much like me, behemoth in size and strong with tough skin and natural weapons like horns and a thick skull. When we were young, he was feared by my brothers and sisters, much like me, that is, until Tiago took him under his wing. He offered Alex that powerful hand of friendship and now Alex is Tiago's personal muscle. If there is ever a struggle for Tiago's life, rest assured Alex will be the one fighting for him.
Some of the others think the same of me, that I am Tiago's lackey, simply because he treats me differently than they do. They mistake his gestures of civility with those of manipulation. When he talks to me confidently, they see a puppet master pulling the string. And when I respond politely, it only supports their argument further.
I wish they could see it's not exclusive, that I want to act the same to them. My brothers and sisters are the only creatures that I've known my entire life. Twenty plus years under one house, one roof, without contact to the outside world. Blood is thick. I have an obligation to them and I know that they have an obligation to me. They are afraid of me, I understand, but despite their anxiety, I know I can still trust them. I would never do harm to them, I would do anything for them. I wish they could understand that.
The idea of family is a strange thing. We don't talk much, we don't connect much, but I am compelled to protect. I can't explain it. If they were anyone else, I could care less what happens. But because of that last name, we are bound to each other. They aren't strangers, they are my kin and I treat them that way.
Sometimes a few of them actually attempt to reach out to me, like my brother Oscar. I get the feeling that he wants to connect, but he can't find the courage to do so. He's made past attempts. As children, though apprehensive about it, he would try to play with me. It was kid's stuff back then, hide and go seek and playing with these toys mother had bought us, but it was something. Yet, even as children, his trepidation showed and eventually we disconnected.
As we grew older, it was the same. We didn't talk much and when we did it was always short. My relationship with Tiago was getting stronger. They didn't get along and my connection with Oscar deteriorated because of it. We never became as close as we were when we were young.
I don't hate him for it. Actually, I admire him more for it. An effort is better than nothing. Sometimes I feel gratitude. I have this underlying suspicion about Tiago's actions, that there's a hidden agenda. I don't have that concern with Oscar. I don't question his sincerity.
This was all I had to look forward to when it concerned my family, bits and pieces of interaction. It left me with an incredibly lonely existence. We were already outcasts in this world and I was the ultimate cast off. It wasn't like some of the others, such as Lombardi. He was ousted because of his awkwardness and social ineptitude, but at least he was given a chance to belong. I never got it.
How does one cope with being viewed as a terror among the people he loves? To be willing to give anything to those who are ready to run away at your very sight? The only thing I can say is that it's soul crushing.
As the years went by, I spiraled deeper and deeper into depression. I had so much love to give, but no one wanted it because they were too horrified to take it. Life in that house was so lonely, and I was confined to it every day. I was a prisoner trapped in despair and the only thing I could do was wallow in it. A mind alone is a dangerous thing. You wonder about things that don't seem possible. With no one to talk to, it would only be me and my thoughts.
Going to sleep was the worst. The darkness blanketed me, covering my eyes so I couldn't see myself. I felt things, but I didn't know if they were really there. I heard things, but I didn't see the source of the sounds. The only thing that was real to me were my thoughts and they weren't tangible.
I questioned my existence. It was surreal that I was what I was. There was nothing on this Earth like us, so what if we weren't real? What if the life I was living was some kind of fabricated lifetime? How would I wake myself up?
I knew the answer to that was obvious. It's something I think about all the time.
I wonder if any of the others thought about suicide, or if the long run had ever entered their minds. Mother had told us the horrors of the world. That's why she kept us on lockdown. It would make me question what kind of future I would have. A lifetime of living in that house would drive me insane, a lifetime of living outside of it wouldn't last very long. I look like a mutant, I would be killed like one. The only solution I had to accept was that there was no future for me.
I wanted to kill myself so many times. I wanted to get one of those kitchen knives and jam it into my neck. I just never had the guts to do it. Death is final, uncertain, I wasn't ready to face it so abruptly. So instead, I continued to suffer without a friend to talk to.
And then, mother died. I had spent my years worried about being trapped in our home forever. It was now time to face the other fear, living out in the ruthless world she described.
When we left our house, I started thinking. Our plan was to be on the run, to hide until we could find a place to be free. But I realized that it's as bad living underground as it is living in captivity. We'll never get to live full lives, despite what Tiago or Oscar might think. The only life we could have is that of a rat, a vermin living off the scraps of others, doing whatever decrepit thing it takes to survive.
I was a bigger target than ever. No doubt when someone sees me, they'll start shooting. The others looked unique, almost beautiful, I do not. No life to live indeed.
My worries came collapsing down and I had nowhere left to go. We were backed in a corner, I was backed in a corner. It was time to react or suffer forever.
Two nights ago, I decided to react. I mustered the courage, I wasn't going to be afraid anymore. When the others were sleeping, I grabbed something I had been working on all week. To the average eye, it was a long, hallow pipe. But at a closer glance, one would realize its tip was sharpened. I spent the days in our hiding place fashioning a spear, so I could jam it right into my heart. Like I said, I wasn't going to be afraid anymore.
I carefully walked away from our hiding place into the night sky. The Moon was out that night and it was mesmerizing. I could see the specs of green and blue reflecting its way back to Earth, illuminating the sky stunningly. There was a small patch of grass behind the warehouse and I stood there to look around. It was oddly out of place, a tiny field of green that shimmered brightly, stuck in the middle of the dank Primm backdrop.
For a quick moment, I reconsidered what I was about to do. The majesty of the night and peculiar peace I experienced was enough for me to have my doubts. Such magnificence was found in the middle of this ugly place, I felt right at home. Perhaps there was a place for me after all if I could enjoy a moment out of such simplicity.
But then I realized moments are fleeting. They don't exist forever. What exists forever is the hardship and cruelty of this world, one that allows this monstrosity known as myself to exist. What a horrible place indeed.
I grabbed the pipe with both hands, extended it forward, and pointed it down at my body. I closed my eyes and thought about my family.
"Such a shame," I said despondently.
"Indeed it is," someone said behind me. I recognized the voice. Tiago.
"Come to talk me out of this?" I said with the metal still grasped tightly in my hands.
"No, I've come to understand why this happening in the first place."
"You know me, brother. We don't have a chance out there, especially me. Who would accept us?"
Tiago let out a short breath. "Our goal shouldn't be to gain acceptance, it should be to survive."
"So run like fugitives then? Always fearing what lies behind the corner?"
"Run yes, but not like fugitives. Run to freedom, Curtis."
"And where does freedom exist?"
Tiago looked up at the night sky, his eyes fixating on the blue and green orb above us.
"The Moon," he said. "It exists there."
A part of me was shocked by his announcement. Tiago had infinite amounts of ambition if that's where his endgame would be. I knew he already had a plot formulated in his mind.
But the other part of me did not care. The Moon, Earth, Mars, another galaxy, it did not matter where we hid, there was still no future for us and I had my own plans to execute.
"I don't know what crazy scheme you have," I said, "but I don't want to be a part of them. My path is set."
I looked at Tiago and saw an expression I rarely see - sadness.
"But what about us?" he asked me. "I thought we were family."
I choke up a little bit.
"We are family," I said teary eyed, "but I can't live this life anymore."
His body drooped down and his breathing became heavy. "I? I? understand, brother, but this can't be the way. We can't lose another."
My eyes narrowed and I remained stoic. "It's the only way."
He paused for a bit before he responded to me and looked right at my eyes to see if I was bluffing. I wasn't, and he knew it.
"All right, brother, I'll respect your decision," he says. "But before you do whatever it is you plan to do, perhaps there's one final way you can help out the brothers and sisters you claim to love. You say you would do anything for family, correct?"
"Correct," I say softly.
"Then I have a plan for you."
Two nights later, as I head to the Gonzalez station, I feel ambivalent. What he wants me to do will help aid my family's escape. It's pivotal that I get this done. At the rate the United Species Alliance is going, it won't take long before we're all dead. My role in all this can put an end to them.
But I am also angry. I wanted to go out on my own terms, not as a person being used in a scheme, but as an individual who is putting an end to all his suffering. To take that away and put the guilt of the family on my head makes me question Tiago's concern. I've become a pawn in one of his schemes after all.
His leadership has been questionable these past few days. He let Oscar and the others slip from his fingers so offhandedly, without even a word of persuasion. It's like he didn't care about them at all. I care about them and I didn't want them to leave. I would have gone with them, too, but at that point, I had already committed to Tiago's plan. I didn't want to jeopardize the safety of those that remain, the objective still needed to go through.
Now I hold a slight grudge. When they left I didn't say how angry I was at Tiago, but he knew. He tried to convince me the importance of family, the importance that we do what it takes to make sure the family lives. I believed him, that's why I agreed to his proposal that night.
Then he turns his back on one of our brothers. Sometimes I wonder when Tiago talks about all that family duty crap, if he just mean
s the family members that matter to him. His actions against some of the others have been less than loving. On the other hand, he protects those he personally cares about. I'm not sure if he thinks so black and white, but that seems to be the case.
And I'm not sure if I'm one of those he will toss in the wind. But then I remember all those times that we were kids and how he was the only one who could look me in the eye like a brother and not a beast. I suppose my paranoia is getting the best of me.
When I departed our hideout for the Gonzalez station, he knew I was mad. He asked if I wanted to back out, but I brushed him off aloofly. I wanted nothing to do with him. At the time, I thought he was a scumbag.
But as I think about it, I realize that I told him not to tell the others what I was going to do. He had told Ace and Alex from the get go, because he tells them everything, but he made sure not to tell anyone else. Not Oscar, not the twins, not Candy, who was the only one left after Oscar's camp departed. I asked him this because I didn't want them to be worried. Tiago fulfilled his part. None of them know. Things like that show me I can trust Tiago, that there's nothing to be paranoid about. It's a true demonstration of familial bond.
Even in this final hour, family comes first. That is why I'm doing what I'm doing. This is for them, my last act to give.