Cognitive Distortions
So, the Switch AU became a thing. And I started wondering how on earth I was gonna approach the villain in this universe. I cobbled together some concepts and started to get a general idea, and then, right out of nowhere in the middle of my lunch break, this idea hit me. So I spent about an hour and forty-five minutes writing this during that four-hour break between classes. I’ll admit I’m a bit nervous about posting it, but I had fun writing it so hopefully people like reading it! Maybe I’ll write a longer thing for the AU this weekend XD Depends on homework.
It’s been a long day. Even though you want nothing more than to go home and relax after work, you know you’re out of food back at your apartment, so you need to run down to the shop real quick. There’s one right near your apartment building that’ll do. It’s not a full-on grocery store, closer to a convenience store, but it has some instant meals you can use, since you don’t really feel like cooking right now.
The worker at the cash register greets you cheerfully. You recognize her. And it seems like she recognizes you. Man, you must really be in here too often. You start perusing the aisles, but…you have the strangest feeling creeping along the back of your neck. Like someone is watching you. You pause, and look around. The store is empty besides you. Maybe there’s someone in the next aisle. You pick up one of the instant boxes and go into the next aisle.
Nobody is there. You think, after you’ve turned around, that you’re being kind of ridiculous. Maybe you’re just starting to get freaked out because the sun is going down. You start to go back over to the other aisle, only to realize you’ve dropped the box. You pick it up and frown at it. You don’t remember dropping it. It must’ve just slipped out of your fingers. But you also notice that your heart is pounding and you’re breathing heavily. There’s a jittery feeling in your stomach, like anxiety. Overall, you feel like you’ve just been scared, but you don’t remember seeing anything worth getting scared over. Are you having an anxiety attack? Is this what it feels like?
You shrug it off and pick up a few more instant meals before checking out at the cash register. The worker asks if you’re alright, because you’re very pale and look like you’d just seen a ghost. You ask her if there was anyone else in the shop. She looks around. At one point here eyes widen and her head whips back toward you like she saw something, but then she shrugs and says there are no other customers. You thank her, and leave with your purchases in a paper bag.
On the way home, you start spacing out. It’s not really your fault it’s just…your thoughts don’t feel quite connected to each other. Like they’re floating away in a fog. Not daydreaming, exactly, more like you’re just…tired. But without the physical symptoms. Your legs are working on autopilot, going at a normal speed with no weakness. But no matter how hard you concentrate, you can’t pull out of the gray fog in your head and into the real world. It’s pretty dreary, but you don’t care to fix it.
Suddenly, you shake your head. No, this was no time for…whatever that was. You aren’t quite sure. You also aren’t quite sure how you got where you are now. Confused, you look around. It’s the train station, one of the three in the city. This one was on the north edge of town, and it was pretty far from both the shop where you just were, and your apartment. The sun has basically set at this point, and the lights of the outdoor station had automatically turned on. The station was completely abandoned. No workers, no passengers in sight. Just benches and the occasional piece of rubbish skittering across the concrete.
A noise comes from the tracks. It sounds a bit like footsteps on gravel, which lines the parallel strips of iron that the trains ride on. Curious, but also cautious, you hold your paper bag tight and walk over to the tracks.
Well. There is a man sitting there. Cross-legged, right in the middle of the train tracks. He’s very gray. His clothes are gray, his skin has a gray tint, his hair is a brown-gray color, even the brim of his cap, which should be a pink-red, is actually a red-gray. You can’t really make out any features beyond those stabilizing points. When you try to focus on his face, you can’t concentrate. It’s like trying to look at someone through foggy glass, or trying to catch a reflection in a rippling pond. You think he’s looking at you, but it’s…hard to tell.
You ask him why he’s sitting on the tracks.
“I’m waiting for the train,” he says. His voice is…odd. It almost sounds like there’s an echo behind the words, or like they’re running together, or like you’re listening through a steady layer of background noise. Either way, you can’t really remember what it actually sounds like.
You tell him that he shouldn’t be on the tracks. If a train comes, it could hit him.
He laughs. “You know, that’s kind of the idea, right?”
You feel worried. Even if this guy is…weird, that doesn’t mean he deserves to get run over by a train. You ask him to please rethink this, and come back onto the station platform.
“That’s nice of you to think about me,” he says with a smile. Actually, you realize he’s been saying everything with a smile. “Not many people do. And I guess that’s my fault, for hiding, but you’d think people would try. Like you just did.” He stands up. Something about the way he does it gives you the creeps. “What’s your name?”
You hesitate, then tell him.
“That’s a cool name.” He tilts his head to the side. The movement is accompanied by a cracking sound. Heads aren’t supposed to move that far, are they? “You want to know mine? Maybe I’d tell you. I dunno, there are a lot of factors to take into play here.” His head snaps back into place. “You seem cool. Want to hang out sometime?”
You take a few steps back. You keep trying to blink through this—this distortion that this guy seems to be giving off. He’s…kind of unnerving. You squeeze your eyes shut and open then again. And now you can see his eyes clearly. They’re—they’re black. All pitch-black, and leaking a steady stream of blood. You gasp.
“No, don’t be scared!” he says, taking a step toward you while not getting off the tracks.“I just want to be friends.”
You shake your head, backing up steadily now and stammering excuses.
He keeps staring at you, still smiling. “Okay. I get it.” Then his head turns sideways. “Oh, look, the train is coming.”
There’s the sound of a whistle in the distance. You turn and see a passenger train barreling towards the station. It’s going fast, clearly not going to make a stop here. You look back towards the guy on the tracks, and blink in surprise. He wasn’t the same…thing as before. Just a normal guy, wearing a gray shirt and cap, watching the train come with resigned blue eyes. You gasp. You’re not sure if you’re hallucinating or what, but the guy seems real. He doesn’t have the same weird distortion effect the thing did. And as your head flips back and forth between him and the approaching train, it hits you with a jolt. He was real. Whatever you were seeing before was all in your head. And now, a guy is about to be hit by a train.
You yell, but he just stares at you sadly. The train is close enough for you to hear the clacking of the wheels. After a moment of grappling with the choice, you throw your bag to the side and leap off the platform and onto the tracks, pushing the guy out of the way at just the moment the train hits.
It’s agony. The impact rips through you, leaving nothing but pain behind. You scream. And then, you realize that you wouldn’t be able to scream if you were dead. And, by opening your eyes, you discover that you still have them. There’s no train anywhere, either coming or going. The moment you realize that, the pain response shuts off entirely. You’re laying on the tracks, and despite being totally uninjured, your body is in too much shock to get up and leave.
You stare up at the evening sky. You stare. You move your head. Moving head is too much effort. Brain is noise. You move. You wonder what was real. You stare. You wonder why you can’t think. Brain is noise. You stare at the tracks. You wonder. Thoughts are clipped. Thoughts aren’t working. You move. You’re really trying but you can’t think. Thinking is too much effort. Thoughts are floating in a fog. You don’t like this fog. You wonder what is real. You stare. Your eyes start leaking tears. You’re really trying but you can’t think. You want to think. You want to concentrate. But you stare. You cry.
Someone is sitting next to you. You look at him. You can’t remember what he looks like. You’re staring at his profile. There’s a hole in his head. He turns to look at you. He’s still smiling. Black eyes. Blood tears. “You’re okay, don’t worry.”
You still worry. You don’t like this. You try to get up and run. You can’t muster the effort. It feels like you’re drowning in gray fog. You keep crying.
“Hey, don’t do that.” He grabs your face with one hand and starts brushing your tears away. It doesn’t help. His nails are leaving scratches on your skin. They shouldn’t be that sharp. Hands shouldn’t be black and dead-looking. “There’s not going to be any crying here. Okay? Do you understand?”
You don’t. You try to shake your head. You stare. You wonder. You want to be able to think. You’re tired. He’s still smiling.
“Well, it’s gonna take time to learn how to not do that,” he says. “So I guess that’s okay. But we need to start somewhere. So I want you to do something for me. Can you smile?”
You don’t want to. You’re trembling.
“Aw, come on, you didn’t even try.” He holds your head, a hand on each side. You’re staring into his dead, soulless eyes. You’re staring at that stretched, manic grin. “You should smile more. People like it when you do. So smile for me.”
It’s easier to listen to someone else. Easier than trying to grab scattered thoughts. Easier than trying to force them together. So you smile.
“There we are!” His grows wider. “That’s good. You’re good. And you’re going to be a good friend. You can go to sleep now. I’ll see you later.”
Dizziness overtakes you. Your vision fades to black before your head even hits your chest.