The Six

The final insallment in an ongoing collaboration with the Prison Project

In the previous installment of “The Six,” Shin encouraged Null as she took a first step in overcoming her addiction to “Regressi,” a video game. Despite a previous rift in their friendship, the two vowed to once again support each other as Null continues to confront her unhealthy coping mechanisms.

“One more thing to do? What’s that?” Shin asked Null while they hugged. She didn’t answer, but still held onto him for as long as possible. She had made up her mind. Even though she was scared to death, she was going to give up Regressi. 

I see, thought Shin. Here I am, promising to never abandon you, but this is something you have to do on your own. He wanted to help, wanted to go into the heat of battle by her side. But this was her challenge. In the end, it came down to her. 

“Remember, you’re a mountain. You can do this. I know you can.”

She nodded vigorously and punctuated it with a sniffle. 

“I’m a mountain. Thank you Shin. I’ll do my best.” And that was it. The last words.

Then, the world shattered.

It fell apart, piece by piece, before being swept away into nothingness. There goes Tai; and now Shin, no longer clutched in Null’s embrace. Even Regressi, that evil television, even that disappeared in glittering fragments. Its voice was still yelling with an unholy rage: You can’t escape! You can’t run! You can’t…

But the words diffused into silence. Null sat in a void. No light, no sound, no scent, no touch. The solitude was empty. 

What would come next on this crazy train ride through hell? What was next to win her over in this tug-of-war of right and wrong? She wondered if she could handle it. She was on the brink of insanity, and salvation seemed to have promised her it was right around the corner. What a joke, such cruel sarcasm. 

Still, nothing happened. No one appeared, no one spoke to her. Why did she have to be alone again? Make something appear, she pleaded. Bring me some other creature to tell me how wrong I am. 

Maybe it would be a demon, or a preacher, or Mom or Dad telling her to get over it. She could hear their words: We all get depressed sometimes, honey. You need to move on. Life is beautiful. Don’t waste it in here in front of that damned TV. 

What good was any of that advice? It only made her feel worse. Does everyone know the answers to life but me? Am I that much of a freak? The void was getting to her, its writhing black tendrils seeping into her mind. Not again, she gasped. Not this again. I hate being alone. Please, don’t let me be here by myself. Stop my mind from thinking. Please!

Null began to panic. But why? There didn’t seem to be a reason to. Here, nothing happened. There was no giant death machine waiting to consume her. There was no Shin or Tai fraying the edges of her reality. 

Here, there was only safety and quiet. Null and her thoughts.

That’s what scared her the most, but that was how it needed to be. It was the only way to truly find her. 

The thoughts piled up. Not good enough, never good enough. There’s no point in trying, none of it matters in the end. Too many people to let down, too much pain. And the failure—so much failure.

Invisible nails walked across her skin. Pinpricks on gooseflesh. Beneath the bones that caged her heart, blood pumped through veins like high pressure valves. She was dizzy, lightheaded. Shallow breaths sapped the energy from her limbs and fueled her pulsing emotions. 

Her temples throbbed. She tried massaging them with her thumbs as her fingers sifted through strands of bangs. The emotions wanted control. They wanted to grasp her mind and tote her around at will. This way, that way, crying, laughing, screaming. Feelings inflated inside her skull until it was on the cusp of exploding.

Nope, it’s not there. From behind her, a voice mercifully broke the silence. None of it’s there. What are you talking about? Pain? Hurt? Pah! No, I’m good. I’m happy.

 Here she was. The girl—the little girl from before. Upon looking closer, she wore a mask, the kind Null had seen in a dramatic theatre performance. The mask was as pale as the moon and shone like porcelain. Both eye holes were painted over black, and a huge open-mouthed cackle was frozen in place below them. It was trying to portray happiness.

As for the girl herself, she seemed familiar. The tangled hair, the lazy pajamas, the gray skin. No doubt there would be a pair of circular glasses behind that plastic cover. 

It had to be Null. A younger Null, of course, but the similarities were too much to be a coincidence.

Stop freaking out. Seriously, I’m good. Come on, everyone is happy, why wouldn’t I be happy too? Let’s play some games. Null crouched down to the little girl’s level. She tried to reach for the mask, but the girl turned away at every attempt. 

Ok great, a rebel. Null lacked empathy for the young fighter. Children had never been her strong suit, so she took on the tone of a stern mother. You’re me, Null accused.

Wow, awful presumptuous aren’t you? I’m definitely not you. You’re sad, I’m happy. Clearly a difference, said the girl while tapping the fake smile on her face, sass dripping from her words. Null would almost feel insulted if it wasn’t so clearly a lie. She wanted to walk away, return to reality where Shin and Tai were, but something prevented her—a kind of persistence that needed to hear the girl admit they were the same person. 

What’s your name? Is it Null? Null asked.

That’s your name, silly, the girl responded.

But it’s your name too, isn’t it?

Maybe…

Maybe? She’s playing 20 questions wrong, Null thought. But if that wasn’t her, then who was she? No, it had to be her. They were the same, unless—

Are you Regressi? Null asked. She was scared to hear the answer. Could that monster be here too?

The girl shook her head. She shuddered with fear at the name, folding her arms tight as if trying to warm herself up. And then a noise, a soft moan. Was she crying? How does one handle a crying child? Null was flabbergasted, but she had to say something.

Are you okay? she blurted insensitively. The girl perked up.

Okay? Me? Yes, I’m okay. I’m fine—wonderful even. That’s right, I’m good. I’m…

And then noise again. Suddenly Null realized why it was familiar. It was the same whimper before crying that she herself let out so many times in the past. The floodgates hadn’t opened yet, but they were right around the corner. This poor girl was suffering. How old was she? How was she already feeling the weight of the world bearing down on her?

Null wanted to help. Gingerly, she reached for the mask, but the girl recoiled.

No, don’t! Don’t touch it. It’s not a big deal—if everyone sees me smiling, then they won’t have to worry about me. The mask is important, it saves others. Please, don’t touch it. 

But you’re hurt, aren’t you? I just want to make sure you’re okay, Null said.

I’m fine. It doesn’t matter, the girl retorted.

It does matter. How will anyone know how to help you if you’re wearing that thing?

The girl didn’t answer, but the whimper returned. I’m going to take it off, okay?

The sound grew more desperate, but the girl did not object, and Null lifted the sheet of plastic from the child’s head. 

There they were: tears, streaming down the little girl’s cheeks. Her brow was furrowed, her eyes squeezed shut, her teeth digging into her lips as if her willpower could keep her from frowning. It was all very familiar. A mirror into her own self. Just seeing it filled Null with emotion again. But she had to keep control. Shin and Tai were counting on her.

There was a fragile line between her and the girl. Null wanted nothing more than to be her pillar of strength. She could tell her that they had the knowledge to overcome fear and anguish if they worked enough at it, but they both knew that was a lie. There was no conquering the adversity, just like there was no way she could hide everything behind a plastic mask. Null had to know what caused the tears in the first place. 

There we go. That wasn’t so bad, was it? encouraged Null while tossing the mask aside. And now I can see your pretty face. By the way, I love your choice in glasses.

The girl gulped. She looked like a gazelle coming face-to-face with a lion. Still, she didn’t like the way the woman treated her. Narcissist, she murmured while adjusting her frames.

Null flinched with annoyance. She didn’t remember being so blatantly disrespectful as a kid. Her rudeness was always refined, a playful insult or quip.

Well, maybe she had been a little narcissistic. She cleared her throat to recover.

Uh, right. Well, why are you crying? 

Because of what I am.

What you are? But, you’re me, Null said.

So, you see my point. 

It was surprising to see such brash insults flowing as easily from the girl’s mouth as tears did from her eyes. Stifling a giggle, Null wondered if it really was so bad to be the two of them.

Maybe not for you, the girl argued. You get to escape. You got to avoid the world and play games while I have to sit here and watch. It hurts to be us after a while. It hurts to be me.

The change in mood was so quick that Null was ashamed for almost laughing. You act like you’re different from me. How can you hurt more?

At least people listen to you. 

This is what Null came here for? To be chastised by an 8-year-old? She felt like this was getting nowhere. 

I listen to you, Null said quietly.

Do you? But you don’t even know my name? You need to work on your listening skills.

But I do know your name! It’s Null, just like—

Wrong! the girl snapped. She stood up and wiped her eyes. Assumptions, assumptions. How about making a good guess next time?

This girl was toying with her! 

Cut it out. You’re being obnoxious, Null stammered. Fine then, I guess I don’t actually know your name, so stop the charades and tell me. 

You know who I am. I’ve told you plenty of times already. I’m done repeating myself.

Now, Null was angry. Before she knew it, she was shouting at the child. 

Are you trying to be mean? If I knew your name, I would’ve said it. Enough games!

You’re the one playing games! the girl fired back. You’re looking in a mirror and getting mad at the reflection. How about you open your eyes for once? I’m here. I’ve always been here, begging for you to see me. Can’t you see me, Null?

Me? Null asked.

Yes, you. For so long I tried to get your attention, but instead of seeing me, you became me. You know my name because you know your name. Say it.

What do you—

Say our name!

Null couldn’t. She felt it swell inside, but pushed it down. The sensation twisted as she realized who she was talking to. In the beginning, the pain started small, manageable, but rather than seeing it for what it was, she escaped it with Regressi. It was easier, but it was a lie. Instead of confronting the elephant in the room, she turned to the helpless girl inside. They huddled together in a bubble of darkness while Regressi festered and duplicated, a black hole that devoured every aspect of her life.

All Null saw was a happy TV that doused her feelings like a small kitchen fire.

Say our name, the girl urged. Careless, dull, apathetic.

Don’t, please don’t, Null pleaded.

Forgetful, numb, blind.

We’re not—

Distraction, deception, a lie, escape!

No! Null shrieked.

Say it! Say our name! the girl demanded.

Ignorance!

The world flew out of her mouth. It was an outburst unlike anything she’d experienced before. She felt the energy vibrating throughout her body. Her face muscles strained and her voice shook violently. But she didn’t stop. Ignorance, Ignorance, Ignorance. Your name is Ignorance, Null repeated.

Yes, finally, the girl sighed.

I know. Of course I know. How could I not? I chose to follow you so long ago, she said with venom in her tone. Is this what you wanted, for me to look at my mistakes as if I don’t regret them? For me to get a taste of my own medicine? Everyone look at the girl who ran away from her pain! She’s weak, point and laugh.

The words echoed between the two girls. Even Null herself was stunned that she had said them. The ridicule was so deep that it had etched itself into her mind. Her aggression was washed in a melancholy bath. Ignore the hurt. Become numb so you don’t have to feel. I was so tired of suffering. I just wanted relief.

After hearing herself use the term she so despised, she felt wrong. For once, she asked herself the question: Is Regressi right? Am I really weak? 

Shin’s voice rang true in her ears. Remember, Null, you’re a mountain.

She repeated it to herself silently: I’m a mountain, I’m a mountain.

And did you get relief? Ignorance asked. 

No! Null cried. Now it was her turn. The emotions came rolling back from a place long hidden, and they all hit her at once with hurricane-force winds. It was worse, so much worse, and I couldn’t go back. Regressi, my pain, it stayed there and ate me from the inside out. And I let it because you told me once to ignore it. I listened to you, I became numb like you asked, but it never stopped aching.

Ignorance nodded enthusiastically. Of course it didn’t. Does a wound heal by slapping a band aid on it? No, you have to change the dressing once in a while. You have to let it breathe. Yeah, it stings for a bit, but if you don’t do it, it won’t heal. 

Then why did you tell me to ignore it? Null wailed. It was a betrayal. She trusted Ignorance to take the suffering away, but it was nothing more than a lie. Why did you lie to me? she sighed.

Did I lie to you? Or were you fooled by the mask?

Null was exhausted. Did everything have to be a game? It was nonstop riddles with this girl. She stared at Ignorance with a pleading expression, but she knew this was it. This was what she’d come here for. 

Listen again. This time, hear me—really hear me, Ignorance said.

Null submitted a nod. She was unsure of what was happening, but there was no point in arguing now. Ignorance took her hands and the two of them tried to share a breath. It was embarrassing for Null to see the girl faring so much better than her, but it was okay here. No one was watching, and the clock was forgotten at 8:37. 

Eventually, her breathing slowed. Her thoughts became peaceful and lucid. The two gazed deeply into each other’s eyes, and Ignorance began to speak. 

 My name is Null, and I’m happy (I’m hurt. I’m hurting). There’s no need to worry about me.

There are so many people suffering in the world, but I am above that because I am immune. I can ignore the pain. (I’m alone. I’m all by myself and I’m afraid of it.) 

If I become numb, apathetic, then the pain has no control over me. (Help me, please. I need your help.) 

My worries aren’t nearly as bad as others. People lose their houses, they get injured and lose control of their body, they even watch their most loved ones die before their very eyes. My problem can never be as bad as that. (I matter too, don’t I? This pain is real, isn’t it?)

Let’s play games. Let’s go out. That’s what happy people do, right? I want you to see that I’m a regular person, just like everyone else. (Don’t ignore me. Ask me if I’m okay. I’m not okay, I’m not. I don’t know how to say it, but can you please try to understand?) 

Don’t worry about me. I’ll get over these emotions. I can do this alone. This pain is an illusion. (This pain is real! I can hear you! See me! Can’t you see me?) 

Null didn’t expect something to actually be different, but it was. Passionate pleas were rooted under the surface of a sweet voice. What she first heard as a polite reassurance was now an earnest cry for help. She had to act. Shin and Tai had lit a path of insight for her and she wanted to share it. 

It’s real, it’s real. Your pain is real. My pain is real, Null claimed with soothing vigor. I hear you, I see you, I feel you, and I’m so sorry for what I did. I’m so sorry that I ignored you. I became you because I thought it would save us both. I didn’t know I had already fallen in the snare of ignorance. I spoke when I should have listened. I jumped into action with assumptions when I should have stopped to understand. You didn’t want me to follow you—you wanted me to see that you were there!

Bullseye. 

By D. Verda

Art by Jessie Sheldon, Tia Verling, and Madison Wells

Body Issue | February 2020