The Lone Ace in a Stacked Deck

Link to article: The Lone Ace in a Stacked Deck.

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I remember all too well...
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//Beep!//

"Jackie?"

//Beep!//

"Jackie."

//Beep!//

"Jacque mother fucking Louis!"

I reach out and blindly feel around until I hear the click. I grip my head. If the shouts of my alarm hadn't woken me up, the dull aching in my skull would have. I try to steady myself as I sit up. Even in the darkness of my room, I can still see the edge of my vision collapsing.

I open my eyes. The ambient music of the bar makes it hard to hear.

"Hello to you too, //Bethany//."

"How else was I supposed to get your attention?"

"You could've just kept going with 'Jackie'."

She rolls her eyes as we walk to the booth.

Connor sees me and gasps. "You're alive?"

"Yeah yeah, very funny. You try grading 20-something lab reports."

He grabs his drink and moves over so I can slide in. Beth sits next to Ava.

"Like I was saying," Ava starts, "few hours go by and, out of nowhere, she asks me if she's ugly. By the way, Jackie, this chick is six-foot-something, built like a truck, and she's wearing this sundress. Like, I'm not big into dresses, unlike some people..." She pauses and turns to Beth, who hangs her head and sighs. "Anyway, she was rocking it. So I just look at her, confused. She's like 'Oh, no one ever tries to ask me out, so that has to be it'. I'm like '//Bitch//, what are you on?'"

"If she's anything like you, probably a few too many beers," Connor snorts.

"So first off, fuck you. Secondly, I don't drink //that// much."

"Didn't you go through, like, five seltzers in a half-hour at the party?" I say.

"That's different, I was catching up. Let me finish my damn story. So I told her that she looked intimidating. Guys were probably too scared to talk to her 'cause they were afraid of getting their skulls crushed like a soda can. She was like 'Aww, no, you're just saying that.' I straight up told her that if she was gay, //I'd// be too scared to ask her out, and she's met Liz. She knows I'm not easy to intimidate. I spend the better part of an hour hyping her up to ask out this guy who's been looking at her. Literal worst-case scenario happens."

"He's married?" I chime in.

"No, worse. He's gay." The three of us burst into laughter as she tried to finish. "He was looking at this guy behind us. She wouldn't look at another guy the rest of the night."

"I wouldn't either if I was her," Beth says, taking a drink.

Connor leans back, "No no no, if it were me, I'd go for the guy he was looking at."

"You'd ask out a guy?"

Connor's expression drops as he stares at me blankly. We stay in a deadlock until a smile creeps up on him.

"Listen, you know what I fucking meant. At least I can get laid."

"No, but at least I get laid as much as I want."

"You... don't, though."

"Exactly. I have 100% of the sex I want to have."

Beth reels in hysterics. "You brought facts and logic to a sex fight."

Ava laughs, "Calling this a 'sex fight' is actually insane."

"Am I wrong?"

Scooting my way out of the booth, I tell the others I'll be right back as they look over at me. I walk over to the bar, wondering what they'll be talking about by the time I come back. I hope they don't talk about anything interesting while I make my order. As I pick up my drink and try to take a sip, my vision blurs.

As it slowly returns, I smile. It's been a long time since I've seen a lot of their faces. Knew some of them for the better part of a decade. I never did get to spend as much time with them as I wanted. I should call them later.

Like my vision, my headache also returns. I sit back up. Should've taken the 11 PM dose. As it turns out, no, I won't have enough time in the morning. Ruing my overconfidence, I stand and head to my bathroom. I need to take them before this gets worse.

I flick the lights on for a second before turning them off. Fiddling around in the dark is better than blinding myself. I grab a bottle and read the label using the faint light fading in from my room. "Jacque Miller Louis, Stark and Crane Phar—"

"Miller!"

I instinctively turn my head, but all I see is my bedroom.

"That everything?"

I drop the bottle and lie on the ground as fast as I can. I lay my head on the tile floor as my vision fades.

"I think that's all, Mark. Thanks for the help."

"It was nothing. Good luck up there. Try not to freeze." He laughs as he leaves.

I lock my door before sitting down and leaning against it.

I stare at my now empty apartment. The divots where my furniture was are still clear. I let out a breath and check my watch. In seven hours, I'll be on a plane to somewhere new where I can meet new people and try new things.

I remember my friends. It strikes me now that I'll likely never see them again. A chill causes me to shudder. After all the time I'd spent with them, the friendships I'd built, I just have to abandon all of them? I want to go back, to undo what I've done. I want to stay here. I don't want to go somewhere new where there's a chance that I won't be able to make connections with people. I don't want to live somewhere where I'll have no one to go to.

No. It was my decision. No one forced me. I chose to do this. After getting my master's, I was in the same situation when I moved here, and I was fine. I'll be able to make friends at my new lab too.

I stand up and head to my kitchen and pick up the stack of papers they'd left for me to take my mind off of things. I stare at the emblem in the corner for a moment. Slowly, my peripherals fade away until all I can see is the emblem before it goes black.

As my vision returns, I sit up and grab the bottle, briefly noticing the emblem on it. Quickly popping open it, I take a tablet and down it with water from the sink. I let out a sigh of relief. Just need to deal with this for another hour until it fully kicks in.

I stand there for a moment, getting my bearings. As I reach for the aspirin, I think about that day. There were so many worries floating in my head. Looking back, most of them were unfounded. I wish I'd talked to Mark like I'd wanted to instead of thinking he'd about how much he'd already done. He'd always been so open about things and the advice he gave was really nice. Hope he and his fiancée are doing well.

I lean onto my sink to keep my legs from giving out.

"Fuck."

I try to hold out for longer as I make my way back into my bedroom. My shoulder aches as I bump into the doorframe. I almost reach my destination before collapsing on the carpet.

"Jackie?"

I barely open my eyes before they shut themselves again. I try to open my mouth, but it feels like pushing through syrup.

"It's alright, I just wanted to make sure you were awake. You've been in and out of consciousness for a few days now, so it's been hard to find a time to talk to you. Right now, your brain is going a mile a minute and wearing you out. The [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/updated-amnestics-guide Class Is] we've hooked you up to should be keeping you in the present. We think you'll be ready to leave later this week. When you do, we'll give you a prescription for two weeks. We'll check back in then."

"Take one every six hours. And don't double up if you miss a dose. You probably haven't seen them very much now because of how high the dosage is, but you might have flashbacks. These are normal. The big worry is that your body is going to think you're dreaming, so you'll be paralyzed. Try to sit or lie down if you feel one coming on. Some of them will be shorter, some of them longer. Some might be random, or you might see something related to what you're doing."

"You hear all that?"

A gurgling noise escapes me.

"I'll take that as a yes. I'll re-up your dosage so you can sleep. Here's hoping that's committed to long-term."

As I hear a few beeps, my consciousness begins to fade away. As I open my eyes, my mind feels clearer. The throbbing ache in my skull has lessened. I look up and sigh. Hairs away from making it. I climb into the wheelchair.

I push it to the kitchen and open the fridge. I consider making something, but it feels too risky. I reach for the plastic container. Reheated noodles will do. I stand there, watching the container spin in the microwave.

I think about the last memory. Still feels weird to tell me important things when I was in that state. It's probably something to do with having it come up in these flashbacks more often.

My microwave cuts me off. I take out the container and set it on the counter before pulling up a stool and grabbing a fork. As I pick up a bite and blow on it, I sigh and set my fork into the container. I sit in the wheelchair and check the brakes. Leaning back, I breathe out as I slowly drift into the past.

"Aaaaand that should do it." They hand me the keycard. "You've officially been granted level 1 access. Welcome to the Foundation. Lab basics is in 406, on the left."

I nod as I take the card. Getting trained on lab safety for a second time probably won't be too different from the time. The scheduler said the room would be packed, so here hoping I don't botch a first impression. As I walk into the room, I walk up to the sign-in sheet and read through the list until I find my name, and sign. Another name catches my eye.

"Henderson, Henderson, Henderson..." I snap my fingers. The only thing that comes to mind is "Hasselbalch", so I shrug it off.

I find the bench I'm assigned to and take a seat. People continue to filter in. Most look like they're in their 30s, some in their 50s. One of them looks like they haven't even finished undergrad. Most of them seem like they already know a few people. Probably locals. I stand up and walk toward them. As I get closer, I hear a voice. It quickly mixes itself back into the chatter, but I notice it.

I notice a name badge. Three yellow stripes. The woman it's attached to walks up to a computer near the whiteboard. I make my way back to my bench, as does everyone else. I quickly greet my partner before the woman starts.

I open my eyes. The outline of my kitchen is barely visible before my eyes shut themselves.

She clicks and the slide changes.

"If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. Remember, we'll be in 413B tomorrow."

I put my head down and sighed. I hope the rest of the course doesn't keep retreading information I already know. We're scientists, we know not to put water on chemical fires.

"Bitch, you what?"

The voice is clearer this time. I raise my head and look around. Some people are leaving, others talking to the instructor. Two are still sitting at their benches talking to each other. I don't recognize the one facing me. Getting out of my seat, I grab my things before walking towards them on my way to the door. I turn as I pass them.

I freeze. The girl I couldn't see locks eyes with me. She raises a finger and points at me. She closes her eyes, hangs her head, and laughs.

She slams her fist against the table. "No fucking way." She raises her head. "What are the odds?"

"100%, apparently. Knew I remembered 'Ava Henderson' from somewhere." I smile.

"Actually, it's Doctor Henderson to you."

"You got a PhD?"

"Did you not?"

"I'm trying to get a research job, not a faculty position."

The girl sitting across from her clears her throat.

"Oh!" Ava laughs. "Lauren, Jackie. Jackie, Lauren."

Lauren nods at me.

"Nice to meet you. I do need to get going."

I wave at the two, who wave back. The door closes behind me. I close my eyes. As I slowly exhale, my muscles loosen as I fall backward into a seat and slouch down. Opening my eyes, I stand up and stretch my back. I sit back on my stool and grab my fork. I take a bite. I consider microwaving it again, but I can't be asked.

The second I saw her name on the sheet, I was excited. It was just a chance, but I was hopeful. I was so glad to know someone already. The way the others were talking, mostly the locals, it was they were already making their own cliques. It felt good knowing I wouldn't have to struggle through trying to squeeze my way into a tight-knit group.

I look around the counter before walking to the outlet and unplugging my phone. As it powers on, my entire body shakes and my heart stops. Too lazy to wake up //and// too lazy to cancel the alarm. I hate my past self more by the passing minute.

I pocket my phone moments before my knees buckle. I grab onto the counter, trying to keep my elbows on as my legs lose stability. My arms burn, slowly having more and more of my weight to hold. Just as my arms begin to weaken, I see a flash.

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **Laboratory M113 End of Session Summary**

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**Experimenter(s):** Alexis Perry (Instructor), Darius Moore, Elena Marsh, Frank Nicholson, Jacque Louis, Lana Hudson

**Subject(s):** Experiment M113-1D ranges 68 through 82

**Date:** 24/11/22

**Time:** 14:00 through 19:00

**Results:** Ranges tested prove no deviation from baseline behavior. Further testing required.

**Additional Notes:** None.

[[/div]]

"Not this shit again."

The stress on my arms decreases as tension returns to my legs. I take a moment to breathe. It was there for barely a fraction of a second, but the image of the computer screen left an afterimage in my mind that's slow to fade. Why was //that// so important to be ingrained in my memory anyway? It wasn't the first session. Wasn't anywhere near the last either.

I shrug it off and return to my stool to have my cold breakfast. Manage to grab a few bites and use a napkin before my eyes become too heavy to fight against. I try to sit as far back as I can and with the best posture I can muster, hoping my back won't kill me when my consciousness returns.

Never really a fan of dancing. Well, I was never really a fan of hearing loss, but here I am anyway. I take a sip as the music swells.

"Fucking dumbasses, they are."

I snort and nearly choke on my drink.

"Knew you'd agree," Frank said, smiling.

"Just 'cause it's funny doesn't mean it's true."

"Just look at 'em."

I watch Ava and Lauren dance. Ava looks like she trying to dislodge her arms. Lauren stands there, gently swaying to the beat, switching her gaze from the floor and Ava. Ava grabs her hand and quickly kisses her before saying something. Lauren becomes a bit more lively.

"I don't know," I say. "I think they're pretty cute."

"And since when are cuteness and dumbassery mutually exclusive?"

I chuckle. "Touché."

He finishes his drink and sighs. "You know, you never answered me the other day. Are you ever going to find someone to, y'know?" He nods toward the two.

"First off, I did answer you. Second, I don't think you understood what my answer meant."

"I didn't mean it li—" He stops himself. He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I meant have you ever thought about having an intimate relationship, not an //intima//—" He gets cut off this time by his phone. We both recognize the ringtone.

"You really gotta change that, man." I laugh.

"It's funnier if you can tell." He walks out to talk to his wife.

As he walks out, his question lingers in my mind. I mean, first I'd need to find someone who'd be fine with leaving out what most people consider a big part of a relationship. That's already gonna reduce the pool to almost nothing. From there, I'd need to find someone who I'd be willing to spend my life with. Even if I found someone, I'd still have to make it actually work.

I take a sip and look around. The bar is pretty crowded. There's a lot of people sitting in groups. There are a few pairs of people sitting with each other. The dance floor is packed with pairs of people dancing and laughing. I see Ava and Lauren.

I sit quietly and look at the ceiling. My breathing slows. I focus my eyes on a vent. The music fades. My mind wanders, fabricating scenarios of increasing complexity. I exhale. The song continues on.

I order another drink, trying to keep my mind focused on what the present has to offer as opposed to what fantasies the future may have.

"I just need to meet more people. Make more friends." I mumble to myself.

I straighten my back and the room quiets. The bar fades away into transparency. Slowly, it reveals a kitchen behind it. I rub my eyes. Can't decide whether I prefer the smooth fades or cuts to black.

Returning to my stool, I check the clock on my microwave. In a half hour, I've managed to eat half a bowl of noodles. As I return to eating, I think about all the people that were there. All the couples out and having fun. It felt so uncomfortable to think about back then.

I set my fork down and sit in the wheelchair. I can already tell what I'm about to remember as my surroundings morph into the lab building.

206. I knock on the door before cracking it open.

"Come on in!"

I walk in and shake her hand before taking a seat across from her.

"Sorry I'm late."

Dr. Perry checks her watch. "Oh, it's just by a few minutes. I'm not going to dock you lab hours for being here earlier than I would be." She laughs. I let out a weak chuckle. "So, I've been writing up progress reports for your cohort, standard thing due at the end of the month. I got to yours the other day, and I ran into a bit of an issue."

I try to keep a straight face, but it's clear she notices something off.

"No no, it's nothing bad, I just—actually, you know what..." She turns her monitor toward me. "You and everyone else are on the standard track for J1s, or new junior researchers. This is the accelerated J1 track. It's the same work, but a lot faster. Standard is usually a year long, but accelerated is six months."

"Accelerated is usually for people already familiar with anomalies, like if you're from Three Ports. We usually don't even let you know it exists unless you're on it, but you've been doing //very// well in lab. I've checked your work on the training courses, and you seem to be doing well enough in them too."

"Are you saying I could get to J2 by next month?"

"Well, since you're not in the accelerated courses, you'd still need to finish the courses regularly, but we'd be able to promote you with course deficiencies."

"If I don't change my courses, what's the point of it? Do I get a raise?"

She laughs. "Sorry, it's just, I asked the same thing, so I'll tell you the same thing they told me: If you consider half a percent a pay raise, then yes. When you become a formal researcher, you'll get an actual raise, but for now, no. You're right, though. You will be a bit behind your J2 peers, course-wise."

"The big difference is that you'll be cleared for advanced lab hours. There's a lot of protocol mixed in there, but the biggest thing is that you won't have to wait on others anymore. You'll be working alone."

I nod as she continues to explain the responsibilities and how she thinks I'm ready for them. I passively reply to everything she says. That word still rings in my head. "Alone". No working with my old group and no working with my new group because I'll be behind on my training.

I remember sitting in front of my door before my flight. All the worries I had back then come to me. I take a deep breath and tell myself that I'll figure something out.

"I'll handle the paperwork, though you might get sent some to sign as well, I'm not too sure. All I need from you is an ok and I can send the form."

I push myself to get the words out. "Oh, I, uh, yeah, sure." This is what I came here for. Can't just say no to a promotion because I'm afraid I won't get to be with my friends. I thank her and shake her hand as reality fades back in around me.

I return to my stool and grab my fork. Should have turned her down, honestly. Gave up being able to hang out with my friends for, what, being able to get a head start on advanced lab hours, which I could do overtime to speed up anyway? I guess I couldn't have known my schedule would make planning anything impossible, but it still feels like a bad choice.

I try to focus my eyes as I stop thinking about the past. I notice the visual doubling. I sigh, unsure of whether it's one of relief for stopping the fainting or annoyance about my worsened depth perception. I put my attention on maneuvering my fork.

As one of the doubles morphs, I finally feel my aim improve.

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **Laboratory M113 End of Session Summary**

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**Experimenter(s):** Jacque Louis

**Subject(s):** Experiment M113-1C ranges 138 through 151

**Date:** 02/03/23 - 03/03/23

**Time:** 18:03 through 00:08

**Results:** Inconclusive.

**Additional Notes:** {{WPH: 2.3}}

[[/div]]

I take a bite. I can't read it, but I still know exactly what it says. Several start flashing by, the memories only present for seconds before they vanish. My headache slowly creeps back up on me. I try to keep eating. The last one lingers for longer.

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **Laboratory M113 End of Session Summary**

----

**Experimenter(s):** Jacque Louis

**Subject(s):** Experiment M113-1C ranges 308 through 315

**Date:** 22/03/23

**Time:** 18:11 through 23:53

**Results:** Inconclusive.

**Additional Notes:** {{WPH: 1.4}}

{{**Notice:** This is an automated notice. The information entered above indicates you had a work unit per hour (WPH) lower than the minimum permitted WPH to qualify for advanced laboratory hours (1.5). Five (5) low performance sessions within a given 30-day period will result in the notification of your assigned staff advisor.}}

[[/div]]

I don't know how I managed to stay above 5. There were so many attempts that I thought would have gone to waste, but ended up reacting to completion, even if they didn't have any real results. As the summary slowly fades away and my aim worsens, I carefully make my way to the wheelchair. I grab the eyepatch slung onto one of the handles.

I finish up my food before taking my bowl to the sink. I notice the pile of dishes in the sink as I set the bowl down. I check my cupboards. All I find are a few plates and a bowl. I look back at the sink and turn the water on. I grab my gloves and sponge from under the sink.

After a few plates, I quickly clean a glass and take a drink. I take a deep breath. I feel my body relax. My headache fully dies down. As I set the glass down and reach to turn the water back on, I hear a knock at my door. I take off my gloves and set them on the counter.

I look through the peephole, but see nothing. I unlock the door and look down the hall. Probably that kid again. As I shut it, I hear something.

"Hey."

I turn around. My doorway is still empty. I recognize the voice clearly. I stand there for a moment, confused.

"I just wanted to talk to you before your shift."

I stare at the door across the hall, confused, before I lift my eyepatch. I stare at her translucent body. Ava stands there quietly before speaking.

"No, I have to go soon."

She laughs. "No, we're not going out, we're..." she sighs. "Lauren got transferred to a site in Derry."

"No no, it's fine, it's just that I'm going with her, Jackie."

"I know that it sucks, and goodbyes are hard, but we've done them before when you found your old lab. We were fine last time, and we'll be fine this time, right?"

She nods her head solemnly. "Me too." She stretches her arms out.

I shut the door as she embraces the air. I hear the door shut itself again as I make my way to the kitchen. Picking up my glass, I watch my fridge open. As the two images of the fridge resynchronize, I set my glass down. I lean in and read the hazy computer in front of me. The data entry table. I notice the date: the 23rd. I can still remember the headache. I should've brought my water bottle in.

I adjust my eyepatch back to where it was. I hear a few clicks of keys, then a bubbling sound behind me. As I turn around, I hear it. I flinch. I can't tell if it's because of the shrill sound of glass fracturing, the slow sizzling that quickly follows, or remembering the feeling of my face being pulled apart fiber by fiber.

I take my phone from my pocket and look at myself in the camera. I take off my eyepatch and feel my face. The burns are still tender.

I put my phone away. As I readjust my eyepatch, I see a flash.

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **Site-113 Medical Report**

----

**Patient:** J. Louis

**Condition Summary:**
* Minor facial lacerations
* 2nd degree facial burns
* Unknown neurological condition

**Physician's Notes:** Louis presented with several neurological symptoms. Initially presenting with seizures, later becoming recurrent comas lasting upwards of three hours, cataplexy similar to severe forms of narcolepsy, and presently, hallucinations and doubled vision.

While initially treated in Site-113's staff hospital's burn ward, fMRIs showed increased hippocampal activity. This, in addition to the symptoms exhibited, led to a transfer to the hospital's dedicated memory research ward.

As Site-113 specializes in the research and production of mnestic drugs, the leading theory regarding the cause of Louis's condition is interaction with experimental materials. Due to the nature of the materials Louis was in contact with, a treatment regimen of Class-I amnestics is being used in similar dosages to those suffering from severe mnestic overdose.

[[/div]]

I cover my eye again. I remember reading that when the amnestics finally kicked in enough to stop the fainting. I walk to my living room and take a seat.

"I'll re-up your dosage so you can sleep. Here's hoping that's committed to long-term."

I remember that voice, not just from when I was admitted, but from earlier. The nurse who'd explained things before they realized this was bigger.

"I know it might not feel like it right now, but—"

Her voice stops abruptly. Then, another voice starts.

"Hello Jacque, pleasure to meet you. I'm Dr. Harper. I'll be treating you for your burns while you're here."

"No no, it's alright, you don't have to respond. For the most part, they seem normal. You might have a few bald spots on the back of your head, but for the most part, they'll be healed in a few months and gone in a few more."

"You really shouldn't try to say anything right now, you need to save your energy. If I'm going to be honest—"

Their voice ends just as abruptly as the nurse's.

"Hello Jackie."

"No need for the formality. I've spent days looking into everything you've done since you were hired. The least I can do is to let you call me Kareem."

"Yes and no. I'm not //just// the doctor for your memory issues. I'm the head of neurology for the Foundation."

"It is. The worst thing a patient can be, medically speaking, is 'interesting'. You are, unfortunately, //very// interesting. I've already received dozens of calls from the director of mnestics about making you into a case study. A progression of seizures to comas to cataplexy to hallucinations as treatment progresses is... unheard of."

"Actually, the comas were in line with mnestic overdose. The cataplexy, or fainting, is somewhat rare, but not unheard of. The bigger concern was the hallucinations. We theorized that as treatment continued, the time you would spend passed out would decrease, which it did to a point. Once the hallucinations started and we saw an uptick in frequency as treatment continued. With this, as well as the blurred vision, we ran out of ideas."

"... No. We don't recommend stopping the treatment until the main effects of the amnestics start to show themselves. Even then, we'll have to put you on close supervision."

"We doubt it's serious enough to hurt you if you forget for a day or two. Amnestics are filtered out very slowly. You'll probably regress to fainting, maybe coma, but we don't think you'll be in any major threat unless the seizures start again. See, during the seizures, your brain was trying to relive dozens of memories at once, and in doing so was, effectively, frying itself. We could only keep you under anesthesia for so long before it became hazardous to keep you unconscious for longer. If we hadn't decided on amnestic treatment then... I know you've heard it many times already, Jackie, but frankly—"

All at once, like someone slammed every key on a piano, I hear:

"—you're lucky to be alive."
"—you're lucky to be alive."
"—you're lucky to be alive."
"—you're lucky to be alive."
"—you're lucky to be alive."

I hold my head and breathe. The sound of wind passing by comforts me. I look toward my balcony and see the door is closed. Soon after, the sounds of cars passing by below me and leaves rustling begin. I take off my eyepatch as I stand up. I'm standing on the hospital balcony looking out toward my apartment. I step out onto my apartment's balcony.

I hear myself speak.

"Fucking..." My past self sighs. "I had everything, EVERYTHING, and I fucking blow it." I slam the railing before looking down.

"Did you, though?" I don't know why I replied, my past wouldn't respond. It just felt natural.

"What, I get my hours changed, and I suddenly decide 'Man, I sure miss getting barely drunk with people I barely know.'"

"You know it's not just that."

"Or did I blow it all because she moved away? I barely even saw her anymore, and I still decide to get all sappy over her?" My past self sighs. "Of course it's that, why wouldn't it be that."

"It's more complicated than that."

"Her and Lauren probably forgot about me already." There's a brief pause. "Oh good, no no no, this is good, I definitely wanted to do //this//."

"You know you need to."

"I've been living this way for years, it's not just going to change on a whim."

"It's not on a whim."

"I can't get into a relationship. There's so many things that'd need to go right, and the odds are slim to none."

"That's not a real answer, is it?"

"It's just..." My past self sighs. "I thought I'd be clear from all this dating nonsense. I thought if I made enough friends, I wouldn't need to deal with it. Maybe fitting in wasn't enough. Maybe..."

As my vision returns to its normal blurring, I put my eyepatch back on. I look out toward the hospital. I'd spent my entire life looking at others and what love meant for them, but I never figured out what it actually meant. I never figured out what made relationships so important to people beyond the part I'd never truly understand. I never figured out that there was so much more depth to relationships that friendships couldn't compare to.

I look at the sky. The sun is bright and unobscured, but I can still see the clouds in the distance from the rain last night. I don't know how much worse things are going to get. Maybe it'll be months, or even years, until they stop. All I know is that there will be a day. A day when I won't need to relive childhood memories to feel loved anymore.

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The Lone Ace in a Stacked Deck

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