She hums to herself, looking up at the night sky and counting the stars idly.
“This…this actually reminds me-“
“It reminds me of how fucked we are,” N states bluntly, impassionate. It seemed that not even catching Alex’s killer was enough for him.
“…a sea of stars,” she mutters to herself, thinking the concept over.
“You know…it’s actually very easy to swim in a sea of stars- you drown the same way!”
Matilda laughs to herself, pleased with her little joke.
“Shoot for the moon…” N muttered. “Should you miss, you will still land amongst the stars. Unable to return to home, only able to helplessly watch everything you know and love drift away as your food, oxygen, and water slowly run out.”
Steph looks up to the sky.
“Reminds me of the view back home all the darkness with a few lights.”
She’s still looking upwards, entranced by the sight.
“Sea of stars- sky of water…what if we’ve been mixing them up the whole time? The ocean- it sparkles with the shine of a thousand tiny suns… The sky surely has waves- haven’t you seen them? Topsy-turvy, upside-down, inside-out? Yes? No? Maybe so?”
“It’s sorta a sea one for your thoughts that is losing time just being memorized by it and losing hours of your life…”
Steph cuts herself off and runs her right hand through her hair.
“Depends…how- how do you tell the insane from the sane? Do the insane- do they know they’re so? It’s an interesting discussion…”
Matilda turns her head to affix N with her wide-eyed gaze, and for just a second, you swear you could see the stars reflected in her eyes.
“And what- what about you?”
Her head snaps back around to look at Steph.
“What’s your take on this…discussion?”
N thinks about it for a moment. When he speaks, it almost sounds… pitying. “The worst of the insane believe that they are sane.”
His eyes are unfocused, staring in Matilda’s general direction. “So… what about you? Are you insane? Or… are you the only sane one in a sea of lunatics?”
“Sanity is a tough thing to messure you know. I don’t think there is a right anwser someone could be insane and not know or they might know it. The oppisite could even take place. I think its best left to a case by case then.”
Steph wipes her eyes with her right hand still looking away towards the sky.
Matilda busts out laughing, barely able to contain herself.
“…have you met me? I’m fairly sure I’m not entirely sane- but only fairly so. Sometimes I’m not sure…but then I remind myself I’m inside my own head- and it…quickly becomes clear again what the answer is, no?”
“Case by case, you say…” she muses to herself, turning over the words.
“If I’m to be a case…then what am I? A shiny black briefcase- perfectly normal and presentable? Or a tat- tattered old thing…so beat up and abused you can’t even bring it outside?”
N looks at the girl with pity. “How… lonely. To have your thoughts consumed of yourself. Every waking moment. You. You. You.” The repetition starts to gain in fervor before it breaks off. “I pity you. The gift of healing, and yet, you are the most broken of all.”
She nods slowly.
“I’m not the most pleasant person to have inside my head…I- I’d much rather it be someone sensible instead.”