A Chaotic but Perfect World: In the Epping Forest

Bonding

Serly walked out of the thinker's room and bumped into Oliver.
-Watch where you're going!
She angrily told him.
-You were the one looking down!
He widened his eyes at her.
-You should've thought that this is a tent room or whatever and people can come out of it!
This was her argument.
-You should've thought that this is a tent room or whatever and people can come inside!
This was his argument.
They looked at each other unemotionally then chuckled.
-Alright, fine, get in.
Thou shalt pass.
-You're going to wait outside?
-Yeah.
He went inside and she sat on a log outside. Her smile hadn't faded yet. And she was feeling so warm. Her heart was racing. She was nervous. How weird. There was nothing to feel nervous about.
She looked down at her hands. They were scarred, cold and trembling. But her legs weren't cold, even though she was wearing shorts.
Minutes later, he came with tissues and sandwiches in his hand. One for her, the other for himself.
-I thought you didn't like these logs.
He smiled at her.
-I don't.
Seems his smile was contagious.
-...then why are you sitting on them?
She shrugged.
Oliver smirked then sat next to her and gave her the sandwich. She took it silently. The moment of their hands touching spread energy in their bodies.
-Are you cold?
He asked her surprised.
She nervously chuckled and pulled her hands to herself.
-No. I recently washed my hands with cold water.
He kept glaring at her. Then he lightly smirked and turned away.
They quietly ate their food.
-Why's your face so soft?
Oliver randomly asked the zoned out one.
-What?
-Your face is so soft.
He looked at her expressionlessly.
-From where did you bring that information?
-I touched and kissed it, but how is it so soft?
He smirked.
-Since I don't talk a lot, my face gathered fat . The same way when someone doesn't move fat is gathered. Also, don't mention that kiss.
She jokingly answered.
They chuckled.
-Fine, but I want to touch your face.
He quickly grabbed her cheek.
-Hey-
She lightly pushed his hand away.
Both of them laughed.
-Do you want to sit under the trees?
She looked back.
-Is it clean ther-?
He stood up and held her hand.
-You're an evil-hunter, you shouldn't worry about the cleanness.
-What's that have to d-
He pulled her up, causing her to gasp, and wrapped his hands around her waist. Her hands slid on his chest.
She smiled awkwardly and jumped out of his arms.
-Let's just sit under the trees.
Oliver wore his usual smile type.
They sat down. Serly bent her knees and kept her legs closed. She held her hand and interlocked her fingers, and her eyes stared at them, lost in thoughts. His body language was open and relaxed.
-You look scared.
He voiced after carefully watching her body language.
-Scared?
She rolled back to reality.
-Yeah-
-That's just my face-
-Your face is mad not scared.
-That's because most of the time I'm mad. I'm not mad now.
They conversed without giving each other turn to finish their sentences.
He looked at her. Her eyes were wide open, eyebrows were downturned and her lips were slightly raised. What expression is that?
-O-kay...
He looked the other way, hiding his smile aimed at her obvious fear or anxiety.
They stayed quiet for a while, looking away from each other, but something made her want to return to him and spark a conversation.
-That scar on your face is making you look...
He turned to her. She squinted and looked at him up and down.
-...hot.
He was flattered.
-What do you mean "making you look hot", I've always looked hot.
She bit her lips while smiling.
-Hotter, then.
-That's better.
-But it's not as deep as the ones on your back.
Serly quickly shot back.
His smile slowly faded. Dark eyes filled with memories. Oliver looked at her seriously, and his voice was lower than usual.
-How have you seen them?
Seeing his immediate change in mood, a sense of guilt began bubbling up to the surface, but curiosity popped the balloons.
-The day I fainted. I went to wake you up by Selena's order. First I listened, so I could know whether you're awake or asleep. I didn't hear anything...so I went inside...and you were shirtless. Your back was facing me... how did that happen? It doesn't look like it was done by a dagger.
He listened to her carefully. Unlike most times, his face was serious. Not smiling. Not thinking. Not worried. He was living a memory. Probably a bad one.
He chuckled tormentedly and looked away.
-When I was 3...my parents took me to a Catholic orphanage. I was raised by nuns... raised...yeah...and...umm... some kids bullied me for being in an orphanage despite having parents. They said they didn't want me or love me and that I was useless... like my name suggested. My birth name is Belial, which is a name of...a demon and means...worthless, evil. I didn't pay attention to them. Seeing that they began bullying me for... having unusual, quirky interests and hobbies. They followed me wherever I went and...one day they got on my nerves so much that I turned around and shouted at them... and at that moment they flew and hit a wall...fell unconscious. They were taken to the hospital wing while I was taken to the orphanage director. She thought I was possessed. They did a bunch of exorcism stuff on me. Nothing changed obviously, because my magical abilities were showing up, I wasn't possessed. But I didn't know what was happening to me, no one explained to me that one day these things will happen. I thought I was becoming a monster, a demon...I thought I was evil...and the nuns really didn't help... every time they explained something during a lesson, and demons were mentioned, their eyes swung to me, leading every child's attention to me. I was 8...and after that I started isolating myself from others, it's not that anyone would want to spend time with someone with the name of a demon, with "demonic possessions" and with strange interests. I spent my whole days reading, studying and writing. So once I was reading in the woodworking room... and... the bullies came. 4 of them. They attacked me, hit me until I bled, they kicked me to the floor, three caught my arms and legs, and... after all that, the fourth...he took the...the electric circular saw...and...sawed my back. I screamed in pain and agony, begged for mercy, I could feel my breath slowly getting cast out. After hearing footsteps and noise, they ran outside from the back door and left me there... lying on the floor... covered all in blood...in a near death situation. Nevertheless, one of the nuns came in and found me unconscious, so I woke up in the hospital wing. I told them what happened, they didn't believe me. They brought the bullies and asked them about it. Of course, they denied that fact. The nuns thought, or more correctly decided to believe, that I was schizophrenic, so they took me to a hospital. They had no doubt I was the schizophrenic and not the bullies, because if I was schizophrenic, then that would mean they could get rid of me. So, I... survived in the mental hospital for a year. You know, it's all...isolation and loneliness in there. I heard shouts, laughs and cries often, and honestly , I was terrified of there. I thought that's it. My life's going to be spent in here, better if I just die. I mean, all I did was nothing, if I don't count the eat, drink and all that casual stuff. The only audience were the walls. Imagine waking up everyday and watching the walls...it was terrible. But then professor Camshronach came and took me to the control school...where I made no friends until 13...
He bit his lip and stared down.
She kept glaring at him.
-I-I'm sorry for making you remember all that. I shouldn't have asked you about it.
Oliver smiled at her.
-Nah, how else are we supposed to get to know each other better?
He pulled her face gently to himself by her chin.
-You've lived trauma!
-That trauma is on my back, which means it's in the past!
He widely smiled.
-You probably have C-PTSD and that never fully goes away.
Serly exclaimed.
-You're not going to "befriend me" because I'm toxic?
She paused and slowly chuckled.
-No, not at all. I myself am a toxic person.
He raised his eyebrow in curiosity.
-What kind?
-Depression.
-For what? What's the reason?
-When I was 7, we travelled to Armenia from Lebanon. New school, new culture, new people and new languages. We even changed the first school because I wasn't socializing with them, but I still never befriended them. I was just a way. You see, it was like "Serly, I don't understand how this works..." or "I didn't do my homework, because I went to fencing classes and slept when I came home, can I copy yours?". So I had adaptation depression at 8, at least that's the age they found it out, since that's when they sent me to a psychologist. I didn't really know at that time why I was going to this certain woman and why she's asking me random questions, telling me to do random stuff, like tie shoe laces, draw and say which animal I think I'm most similar to and why. But after getting diagnosed with it, I stopped going, so...it wasn't treated. Then at 11 it got worse. I started thinking about suicide and everyday self-loath was present. I had passive suicidal ideation. I did research and kind of fell in love with psychology. That's what led me to discovering MBTI later. At 12 I shut off my feelings and emotions, I stopped interacting with people, I only focused on schoolwork, not even my hobbies, I stopped enjoying them. I reached my academic goals but felt nothing, I wasn't satisfied. At 13 I was starting to feel positive emotions, I thought I was healing. Before I stopped doing everything I loved, like drawing. But at 13 I restarted, trying to get myself out of that sticky situation. Every time my parents asked me why I'm sad, or said "I'm going to take you to a psychologist" I persisted that I'm totally fine. I began taking care of myself. At 14 I pushed every "friend" out of my life. At that age I had no problem telling people what I thought. I stopped helping people, because their manipulative manners angered me. Do you know how many times I turned a friendship with a certain girl on and off again? She once said, and that in front of me, that no one likes me and nobody wants me. I mean, it was clear that both her and the other girl in the group preferred to spend time with my twin sister over me, because I was a serious, studious hardworking person, but they both openly expressed that the only reason I'm there, is because I can help them with academic things, otherwise, I'm a nobody. I cut my ties with both of them. When they had questions about any subject, I was there to answer, but thanks to my cold shoulder, they preferred not understanding and failing. They strayed away from me. I had no friends, not even fake ones, but who needs fake friends? They weren't friends, they were just accounts logging into me whenever they had questions...It was the same with the teacher's too. They often threatened me, telling me I have to get high marks no matter what, they got disappointed with anything lower than perfect. My teacher used me, as the only top student in her class and among all 9th graders, as a way to raise her public image. I felt as though every success, every accomplishment I had were faked and I always felt, that whenever my teacher went to new teachers and told them, that I'm the top student, she's kind of...bribing them to give me fake high grades, so she could keep her reputation high. I felt intensely uncomfortable every time I was introduced to someone as the top student, because I felt as though I didn't deserve the title, that I'm a fraud...classic imposter syndrome. Not to mention the isolation had a heavy toll on my mental health. At 15, I already began struggling with studying. I had trouble focusing, I always felt the need of socializing, but I couldn't, so then I had to try virtual ways and all that, but that wasn't enough, so I just...felt guilty every time, I felt suicidal and depressed again, because I felt meaningless, like I didn't have a purpose to live, because I'm not doing what I'm supposed to be doing well, I was just there...and the others really didn't hel me either. They always mentioned the diploma, the diploma, the diploma and my status, after all, I'm not a person, I'm just a title to bear. I hated being in the spotlight, to the point I planned on acting sick on a day of some quiz game, but then I actually ended up sick. I didn't have to fake it, but then everyone, including my parents, told me I should've participated, my parents' logic was, that if I did take part in it, I would be all over the school, because "A Lebanese-Armenian girl won in the competition", but...i didn't value that fame. I wanted to just be, do whatever I want, not for fame and validation, but for some bigger, more important purpose. Actually help with something! But no, that would be a wasted potential. I've always just been a title for different people. I would have random episodes of...i don't know, it was a strange feeling, an uncomfortable, painful feeling. I would ease them by drawing and doodling in my notebook, where I wrote my homework. Nobody has ever seen them, but they're not particularly pleasant drawings. Disturbing would be the right word to describe them. I drew lots of eyes, heads, hands, and also blood, swords or daggers, stabbing, death, tears...in short, nothing positive. Some were surrealistic, some were macabre, but they helped me calm down. But even though I did that...you...you can't get rid of... depression... After all these incidents, I developed trust issues. I saw everyone as parasites. I couldn't normally form relationships. Every time my parents told me to socialize and be friendly, every time they mentioned my childhood, when I was...quite literally a star, popular and loved, I cried, because I knew I couldn't do it, but they didn't know. They tried to understand, but I never opened up...so that's my problem. The key to success is socializing, so I'm working on it...