Kazuo Is Doing Okay

Kazuo bolted upright, head swimming. He’d kicked the sheets away sometime during the night, and a corner was hanging limply off the bed. He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about. It was slowly slipping away, and all that remained was the worst part.

The fear. 

Hands shaking, he fumbled for his phone on the bedside table. It dropped to the floor, and he lunged for it, grabbing it just in time. 

It took him three tries to get the passcode put in properly. When he did, he tapped on the message app and typed in the first number that came to mind. Then the first word that came to mind.

Help. 

Numb, he sat on the bed, keenly aware of everything going on around him. The rapid rise and fall of his chest and the way his heart was pounding. The sirens of an ambulance that sped by near his window.

He cringed and turned back to his phone. 

His eyes were adjusting to the dark, and he could now make out the vague shapes of his room. It was too small. He needed to leave. Go somewhere. Escape.

His phone beeped, and his eyes flew to the screen.

Are you ok?
What happened?

What happened. That he could explain. 

So he did. 

The person began typing, and for a while, three dots inside a message icon were all he was focused on. 

Then they disappeared. 

He waited. And waited. 

No. 

They weren’t going to answer. They were gone. 

He was alone.

He clenched the phone. Peeling one hand off of it, he grabbed one of the rubber bands on his other wrist and began to snap it, harder and harder. 

He’d been trying. Trying to be as normal as he could. As normal as everyone else wanted him to be. Trying to be brave and recover. Lead the life everyone else was leading.

The rubber band snapped and he winced, brushing it off his wrist.

The phone beeped.

He hadn’t noticed that the person had began typing again. 

Listen. I’m not going to say it’s ok because it’s obviously not right now.

They paused.

But I’m here. And I don’t know if that means anything to you, but I am.

His eyes widened. 

I mean, I don’t even know you, but you seem alright. So if anything’s bothering you, you can talk to me. Or someone. You don’t have to do everything by yourself.

His hands were shaking again, but for different reasons. 

His breathing had slowed, and strangely enough, he felt calmer. It was like he’d needed to hear someone telling him that. And once someone had finally said it, he felt better. Much better.

It wasn’t great, but it was ok.

Ok?

He typed out several messages and deleted them in quick succession. He went to the emojis, and picked out the one with a small smile and sent it.

It was a start.