WC: 2,836
Trigger Warnings: hallucinations, panic attacks and self hatred
Sue is a tenacious, easy going, intelligent teenager. They’ve been called “advanced” more than they’ve been called their full, legal name. They’ve been put into more spelling bees than they could remember, been the class valedictorian and been high honor’s top student for as long as they can remember. They were never content with not knowing as much as they could at any given time.
Basically, if there was an academic prize to be won, they had won it in some capacity or another. If there was some high achievement to procure, they had gotten it and then some. If they had wanted to skip a grade, maybe two? They could.
So. Why in the world. Was Sue. In class. Without a pencil?
The bell had just finished ringing in their overstuffed head and they’re about halfway through their bag. There’s nary a writing utensil to be seen.
“Abuela,” Sue huffs. She must have taken their pencil case and forgotten to return it again. Typical…
Tch. Well. They lift up and turn to their left.
There sits Paige Woods. He was currently busy talking up a storm with Orville Squeeze. Jr. The Jr part was important. He would scold you if you said his full name without it.
This sight wasn’t uncommon. These two would spend a whole entire period talking about seemingly nothing and everything at the same time. It was actually rather intriguing, but this was not the time to dwell on other people’s conversations.
Now it was time for a pencil.
Now, Paige and Sue weren’t friends. Not by a long shot. But they were acquaintances.
The world worked in a myriad of ways for Sue Cruz. One of those was The Familiarity Scale. It started with Stranger and ended with People I Would Do Something Bad For. Acquaintance was right above Stranger. Stage one, if you will.
Now, from those parameters, Sue was allowed to ask certain questions. Act a certain way. Say certain things. And there was only one thing on Sue’s mind at the moment.
“Paige,” they say, not caring very much that they interrupted what must’ve been the umpeenth time these two were talking about Sonic the Hedgehog, “I am going to borrow a pencil.”
Paige blinks.
Orville blinks.
Sue stares.
“U-um…” Paige mumbles. “Sure? Y-you can have one?”
Sue chuckles lightly. “Thank you, but I wasn’t asking.” They very much intended to take the pencil whether he was compliant or not, seeing as he had multiple. Sue knew he’d actually gotten the majority of them as gifts from Orville.
It was hard not to notice when most of them were plastered in Pokemon and Minecraft patterns, something Sue knew Paige loved. Of course, there was always the possibility Paige had gotten them himself, but Sue knew better.
Paige was the type of person to buy a box of 20 plain pencils, because that was “just the right amount” of them. He wouldn’t buy one that had 50, because that was way too many, obviously. Because you don’t lose pencils everyday of your life. 20 is absolutely enough for an entire school year.
What an interesting specimen of a person, Paige Woods.
Regardless, the main point of the matter was that, whether by his hand or Orville’s, Paige had pencils to spare.
Sue plucks the Creeper themed pencil from Paige's desk, nods at him and begins the Do Now.
Paige does not comment. Instead, Sue overhears him mumbling to Orville. They had very good ears.
“Peculiar,” Orville had said. “They normally have everything they could possibly need in that bag of theirs.”
Look, the voices say. They’re talking about you again.
But… it was true. Sue was used to filling their bag with any and everything one would need at a particular moment, provided it was small enough. Currently some things they had on them included a medical first aid kit, wet cat food, and a binder filled with nothing but loose leaf so straight it’s like it was ironed down.
There’s also a small plush rabbit in their bag. Rabbertson was precious cargo, placed in the mesh part of the bag sideways both to fit inside entirely and so he could nap throughout the school day.
Rabbertson never left Sue’s side. He was the most important thing they owned.
Stupid thing. the voices scoff. Why don’t you just burst into cotton already?
Sue sighs. They had gotten off track, lost in their own little world. The two boys continued talking, Paige this time.
“I know… I-I mean, I don’t have a problem with them borrowing my pencil. I just sort of wish they would’ve asked me instead of telling me.”
Ah. He wasn’t a fan of taking without asking.
Wonderful. Something to add to The Paige Files.
“Sorry,” Sue says. “But I need this.”
“No, it’s okay!” Paige assures. “Just like… ask next time, okay?”
“Sure,” Sue nods. They turn back to their own desk. Do Now time.
+++
Sue groans. Their pencil case is once again missing. They had quite literally just stopped double checking their bag in the morning, too.
The picture of the small textured case sitting on their bedside table flashes in their mind. Sue groans harder.
“Sue?” Paige asks, tapping on their shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
“I’ve forgotten my pencil case again,” they say blandly. “I left it by accident.”
Idiotic mistake, really.
“Oh!” Paige gasps “Here!” He bends over his own bag and pulls out a plain looking pencil. “You can have this one. Just keep it in your bag, alright? As a spare!”
Sue stares at the pencil. A spare? Without being in a case? Absolutely not. Books and pencils and papers all belonged in their own separate compartments until they were meant to meet in a melding of minds. Any other time? Inconceivable.
Picky eater Sue was not, but a picky sorter? That was another thing entirely. Peas and carrots came together when they decided they did and not a moment before, alright?
Tangent. Sue focuses back in front of themself to Paige and Orville talking again.
“Have they stalled again?” Orville is whispering.
“I think?” Paige whispers back.
They think something is wrong with you.
“I have not,” Sue responds, startling them both. “I don’t ‘stall’. I simply take time to think.” They grab the pencil from Paige. “Thank you.”
This pencil would enter their case as soon as possible and never return.
They were still thankful for it, though.
+++
“Sue, what kind of movies do you like?” Paige asks them one day out of the blue. “Me and Orville were thinking of going to the theater for the first time together and I thought I’d see if you wanted to come too!”
“Why?” Sue asks. “We’re just acquaintances right now. Shouldn’t we be friends first?”
What kind of question is that?
Paige looks hurt. “Are we not friends…?”
Sue blinks, surprised. “Are we?”
“I thought we were!” Paige cries, causing the teacher to shush him. “Sorry!”
“Just be more quiet,” Mr. Alec says, rolling his eyes. Paige just nods.
“Are we friends?” Sue asks once the man has turned back to his book. “I didn’t know. You never told me.”
“I have to tell you?” Paige asks, sounding confused.
“How else am I to know?”
Paige scrunches up his face. “I… I don’t know. I thought you were just supposed to know?”
You really are just supposed to know, you know. Didn’t you pick that up? Have you picked up anything?
“That’s alright.” Sue carefully slides their phone out of their bag and checks their calendar. Nothing planned for the rest of the week… “I’m free whenever you are,” they say.
“Oh!” Paige smiles. “So you’re coming?”
“You don’t know which movie we’re going to see yet,” Orville injects. “It’s Captain Underpants, by the by.”
“That’s fine,” Sue nods. “I like most genres so I’m okay to watch anything.” They pause, then add, “Anything but horror.”
“Good thing it’s a comedy, then!” Paige laughs.
“Mr. Woods,” Mr. Alec warns.
“Sorry!
+++
Sue stands in the middle of the huge mall they find themself in. Beside them is Paige, Orville, Bro and Brandon.
This was new for them. The other four had been pretty close friends for a while now, but Sue was new. They had to be on their toes. They couldn't be an outlier.
That’s all you’’ll ever be to these people, the voices whisper. You can never fit into a group like this. You’re weird. An oddball. A—
“Sue!” Paige shouts. Sue shakes their head and looks up. The rest of the group had begun moving on. “C’mon!”
Sue moves forward to join them.
You’d be best to turn around now. Flee. Run away.
Sue hesitates.
“Sue?” Paige asks, face falling a bit.
“I…”
Have to go. Want to leave. Won’t be coming back.
Words permeate their mind and run them in circles. There was no way they could do this. They had to abscond.
“Sue, you good man?”
Sue snaps up at the voice that’s suddenly right next to them. Brandon is looking at them.
“I-I…” they mumble.
“...Oh shit,” Brandon swears. “Okay. I see what’s happening. Okay.” It takes one hand and lays it over its chest. “Okay. Sue, I need you to do me a favor and copy me, okay?”
“O-okay.” Sue places their hand on their chest as well.
“Awesome. Now watch me.” Brandon takes a deep breath and then exhales. “Can you do that?”
“Um…”
Sue glances around to see the other three have begun walking back over. They feel themself start to breathe faster, panic entering their system. They didn’t know what was happening. They didn’t like what was happening. These voices would always come and haunt them at the most inopportune times, and they would always win. They would always win—
“Sue,” Brandon says, putting a hand on their shoulder. “With me.” It breathes in and out again. And again. At the third time, Sue begins to breathe with it.
“Guys?” Paige asks, before Bro shushes him. He turns towards them. “What? What’s going on?”
“H-elping,” Bro explains. “Quiet.”
“But…”
“They’re right,” Orville whispers. “It’s best to be quiet for right now.”
“Alright…” Paige mumbles, sounding very confused.
Focusing on the conversation had somehow allowed Sue to step in line with Brandon’s breathing. With a massive amount of effort they consciously continue until Brandon stops and gives them a once over.
“Feel any better?” it asks gently.
And, Sue does.
“Yes,” they say quietly. “Thank you.”
“Are you still well enough to shop?” Orville asks. “It’d be quite alright if you went home after getting overwhelmed. We all understand.”
“I—”
Say no.
Shut up.
Ask to leave.
Shut. Up.
Just turn around and run! No one can stop y—
“Shut up!” Sue growls.
A sizable amount of the crowd turns to look at them, stunned friends apart of it.
Oh, you’re really done it now, the voices chuckle. Good luck getting out of this one.
Sue wants to turn and run away.
Sue wants to hide.
Sue wants to cry.
Sue… blinks. Brandon is staring at them, both hands on their shoulders.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “Whatever you’re thinking right now? Just let it go. You’re just getting more wound up.”
“L-let it go?” Sue chuckles. “I—they’re always here. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to let them go?”
“Stop thinking,” it says. “Be here. Be now.”
“How?” Sue persists.
“Name five things you see.”
“What?”
“Just do it?”
Sue hesitates, but looks around nonetheless. “Um… A popcorn stand… a cookie place… um… a Macy’s… a GAP and a froyo stand.”
“Epic,” Brandon nods, beginning to pull Sue aside. “Now name four things you can hear.”
“You,” Sue starts. “And the crowd. And the whirring of a machine. And… and the sound of something sizzling.”
“You’re doin’ awesome,'' Brandon encourages. They’re at a bench now and it pulls them down to sit, holding their hands. Sue processes the other three following, but doesn’t really pay attention to them. Brandon squeezes their hands. “Feel that?”
“Yes,” Sue nods.
“Great. Now tell me how you feel.”
Sue blinks. “I… I don’t feel like I wanna run away anymore, I guess.”
Brandon smiles softly. “That’s now. This is letting go.”
“Oh,” Sue says smartly.
Brandon chuckles. “It’s a little freeing, isn’t it?”
“...Yeah. It is.” Sue looks at Brandon for just a moment before glancing away. “Thanks.”
“S'cool, Sue.” Brandon says, beckoning the other three over with one hand. “Anytime.”
+++
“Sue, may we talk?”
Sue turns to the right. Orville is sat next to them.
“Yes?” they ask.
“Hyperverbality,” Orville says, turning away from Sue in favor of staring at the wall. “You seem to have a case of it.”
“Perhaps,” Sue says. “Your reason for bringing this up being…?”
He looks back at Sue, eyes intense. “I mean this not as an insult, but as an… ally of sorts,” he starts. “But are you perhaps diagnosed with autism?”
Guess that mask of yours slipped without you realizing, hm?
Sue stares at the older teen, eyes unseeing.
“I-it’s perfectly fine if my hypothesis was incorrect, by the by,” Orville is quick to backpedal. “I-if you found any offense in that question I assure you I did not mean it in the slightest. For you see, um… I—”
“Am autistic,” Sue nods, closing their eyes. “Yes. I’m aware.”
Orville blinks, mouth still slightly agape. “Y-you…?”
“People don’t normally come up and ask for someone’s diagnosis without sharing it,” Sue says simply.
“Ah…” Orville rubs the back of his head. “Yes, I suppose that would make sense, wouldn’t it?”
Sue’s eyebrows furrow a bit. “Why do you ask, though?”
“Well, I thought…” He sighs. “Maybe I assumed too much.”
“No, go on,” Sue urges. They were interested now.
“Well, you know how you always bring your stuffed rabbit around?”
Oop! Someone thinks you’re a big baby!
Sue’s face hardens. “What does Rabbertson have to do with anything?” they ask defensively.
“I thought perhaps you had a special interest in stuffed animals or perhaps rabbits? So, I got you something.” Orville reaches into his bag and pulls out a small orange plush bunny. “I figured I’d cover both my bases.”
Sue looks at the present in awe, completely gobsmacked.
“You got this for me?” they ask quietly.
“We’re friends, are we not?” Orville smiles. “I like to buy things as a way of saying thanks for sticking with me.” He holds out the plush. “So here! For you.”
It’s a trap.
Sue ignores the voice and grabs the toy. “Did you know the first american fuzzy lop was first thought to be presented in 1984?” they ask, holding it tight. “And that the first stuffed animal ever made was a felt elephant?”
“Ah,” Orville smiles. “It seems my hypotheses were correct.”
+++
Throw the paint everywhere.
Throw it on someone.
Drink it.
Force someone else to drink it.
Pour it over yourself.
Make a scene.
Do something drastic.
Make a move.
Do something.
“Woah.”
Sue startles so hard they yelp and jump about a foot into the air. Turning to the person who scared them, breathing heavily, they see Bro, looking quite surprised themself.
“Jeez,” they mumble. “D-idn’t mean t-to start-le you.”
“Oh, Bro,” Sue sighs. “It’s okay. What… what do you…” Sue shakes their head. “What’s up?”
“Your art,” Bro says, pointing. “I-it’s so cool.”
Sue stares at the image they’ve made. It’s a picture of a small, pure white human on a black canvas. They are insignificant in the eye of the millions of multicolored word bubbles, however. Each bubble says something just barely unreadable. They all overlap on top of each other. They speak of torment and anguish and sadness and insanity.
Sue does not like this painting.
“It’s okay,” they lie. “I can probably do better.”
“Th-is is s-so r-eal though,” Bro breathes. “It rem-inds me of m-myself.”
“This reminds you of yourself?” Sue asks, completely caught off guard. “Please explain.”
“D-id you know y-our h-handwriting is pr-etty neat?” Bro says in lieu of an actual answer. “It-it really lets m-e understand what’s g-oing on up there.” They smile as they point at Sue’s head.
“...What?” Sue asks, apparently not only on a different page than Bro, but in a whole different book entirely.
“I c-an read it,” Bro says plainly.
“Oh,” Sue says lamely. “Oh.”
“D-don’t look like that,” Bro chuckles, looking back at the painting. “Li-ke I said, I c-an see myself in th-is.” He glances back at Sue. “I think w-e’re a lot a-like, Sue.”
“...You too, then?” Sue murmurs. “Thoughts plague you as well?”
“S-something like that,” Bro shrugs.
“Can we talk later?” Sue blurts out. “After school?”
“Y-eah,” Bro nods. “I think that’d be good f-for the both of us.”
+++
Much later in the future, Sue sits in the cafeteria, flipping page after page in a good book.
Soon, the place fills.
Soon, Sue is surrounded by friends.
Now, Sue realizes they are content.