Into the Woods (Steve)

Trigger Warning: Death of a friend, mentions a suicide attempt
Andrew may be a brilliant doctor and great friend, but, in his words, he "lacks punctuality with mundane or irrelevant tasks". We consensually agreed to this as Caitlin does not like traveling alone and Andrew would know what to do if she had a problem along the way.  I removed my trumpet from its case and played half of my major scales. Music should soothe my nerves, I thought. My stand partner, Mark, turned to me with a smile that spread from ear to ear.
           "Where have you been? The ensemble missed you and I had to endure an earful of Kent's ego." He rolled his sheet music into a cone and yelled "Hey, guys! Steve's back!" through the makeshift megaphone. The other musicians mulled around, unaware that Mark shouted through a sheet music megaphone. I told Mark about defeating the Ender Dragon. He looked at me with surprise and skepticism, but, when I held up the egg, he became transfixed. Urging other musicians to look at the egg, they crowded around me until even the first violins joined. Our concert master (first of the first violins) yelled "All hail Steven Lowell, slayer of the Ender Dragon!" Cheers erupted from everyone, well...almost everyone. The conductor, literally, cut our celebration short.
          "All right. We need to get this song ready for concert in a week. Your ruckus won't help with that. Turn to measure 157." We quieted down and those who played raised their instruments to ready position. The horns came out rich and mellow, but someone was slightly out of tune on their G. I rested for 300 measures. 1-2-3-4, 2-2-3-4, 3-2-3-4, I counted. The flutes came in at measure 220 with trilling and sixteenth notes and then rested for what would be another 500 measures. When the trumpets came in, I raised my horn to my lips. The music markings seemed to blur and sway. I felt sick to my stomach. As we progressed, my nausea intensified and a headache set in. I could only read two measures at a time. Luckily, the piece was familiar, so I managed to stumble through the passage.   When break time came, I slowly made my way over to the trash can while holding my hand over my mouth. I leaned over and took a deep breath. I sat down next to a flutist and recovered from my nausea after vomiting in the trash can. The flutist asked me if I was okay. He offered to drive me home. I refused and decided to continue.

I took my phone out to see if anyone tried to contact me. Andrew texted several times.
          C is ok. Fear of IV. Will go 2 neuro @ 3:45. 
          Upd8: Nearly done. C vomited from contrast. Will go on.
          C had another seizure. Probably from fatigue/hunger.
          Also an asthma attack. Not a good day 4 her.
          Dr. Chen is worried about C
          Y this happening? Should not happen. Especially not to C.
          U may want 2 see the neuro 4 ur TBI.
I responded:
          k
I had nothing else to say. Caitlin had been treated horribly, neglected, bullied, and physically assaulted. Despite this, she was kind-hearted and gentle to everyone, even her tormentors. I would give her the world if I could, but I can't. Then, I thought about this: What if Caitlin and I form a one-sided relationship as caretaker and patient? I didn't want that. I wanted her to flourish and thrive on the surface, to contribute to the beauty. When break ended, we returned to our seats. My phone vibrated. I ignored it. As if yelling my name while poking me in the back, it vibrated more incessantly until it stopped. Rehearsal ended half an hour later. I checked my phone and my heart nearly stopped when I read it.
          C melted down in w8ing room. Lights r 2 bright. Loud ppl and clock. Almost did so myself.
The neurologist might be understanding, but people in the waiting room might not be. Shielding my eyes with sheet music, I stepped into the blazing sunlight and walked home.

Hutch greeted me at the door by licking my face. I flopped down on the couch and Hutch placed his head under my hand, which dangled from the edge. I sat there and stroked him nervously. I texted Andrew.
          Worried. How is C?
He replied
          Bttr thn I wld do in her place.

I headed to the mineshaft. I didn't intend to find any diamonds, just to ease my worries. The cold air of the cave welcomed me like an old friend. I produced my diamond pickaxe and searched. Passing by the coal and iron, I discovered a vein of gold. I learned that it was not good for armor the hard way, but golden apples were a godsend. After more perusing, I felt an arrow in my knee. I charged the skeleton that shot them, killed it, and collected its bones and arrows as spoils of war. Fencing worked for me like this: Charge, strike, and keep striking until the enemy falls. Thinking about parries and thrusts  would prevent me from fighting. I fought until I backed myself into a corner surrounded by skeletons. Suddenly, I found an arrow whiz over my head and strike a skeleton. The archer shot clumsily, but accurately. I escaped while I could.

At the entrance stood a familiar and comforting face. The wind played with her obsidian locks. Her eyes sparkled in the sunlight like black diamonds. More importantly, her independence glowed like glowstone. She greeted me at the entrance, bow in hand and broke my trance.
          "Can we head back now? I need to find a restroom." She pointed to a nearby village.
          "Okay." We headed away from the village because that route would take longer. My sense of direction utterly failed and we wound up in a forest. Caitlin's face contorted with distress and pain. She snuck off somewhere nearby and returned a minute later to yell at me.
          "Why did you mislead me?" Her gaze turned sharp and cold like the void itself.
          "Sorry. I just...got lost."
          "Got lost? You have taken this route 54 times prior to now and you just get lost? I will not stand for this."
          "It's just a flute! I mean fluke!" Caitlin continued to fire her verbal arrows, each one striking me in the heart. Unfortunately, it was not just a fluke. I felt like I was wired to be forgetful and let other people down. I had the chance for someone to be proud of me and I blew it. These scenarios came to mind. I had failed these people simply because I was wired to do so

During an intense spleef match in high school, I neglected to help Caleb, an injured player. An unearthly cracking noise preceded his cry of agony. He begged for someone to guard him. As the captain, I ordered anyone but me to do it. When I could have stayed by his side, I ran with glory splattered in my eyes. I could focus on nothing else but points. After undermining the others and basking in the tainted spotlight, I was named the spleef team MVP. I hated the title and myself. When Caleb congratulated me on his crutches, I silently blamed myself for the incident and forced a "Thank you".

A close childhood friend of mine even died because of my inattention. It seemed that Luke and I were destined to be together despite our two grade age difference. However, we wound up surrounded by zombies in an alley. Being a coward at the time, I fled and hoped Luke could face down the army. He slayed them all--at the cost of his life. I remembered the last words he uttered with a dying breath: "You're my hero". He said that when I was anything but. I couldn't live with myself after that incident. Later that night, I honed my sword and planned to drive it right through my chest. Right before I struck, Andrew entered my room and said "Hi, Steve". I barely knew him at the time, but his presence saved my life. I knew, at that moment, that he would be my best friend. I couldn't fail Caitlin like I did with Luke. I just couldn't.

After looking for her, I saw no sign of her anywhere. Then, I remembered to look up. Her feet dangled above me.
          "Hey." Caitlin waved from atop a tree. My heart pounded. It could pose danger to her if she had a seizure in a tree.
          "Get down! Are you insane?"
          "Perhaps I am."
Something told me this was only the beginning of our journey.