The metallic blue light flickering from the TV illuminated the room in the darkness. It saturated the room in its color; the beige carpet, blue, the off white couch, blue, the wooden walls, blue, Mustafa, blue. But it would quickly disappear, submerging the room into darkness once again, only to appear moments later.

There was nothing special about the room, it was just our basement. We spent most of our nights here sitting on our couch and watching TV. So much so that it felt almost more like a painting in the room. I could probably still see the area in front of our couch if I closed my eyes. Our grey, cube like capable tv wrapped up in its mahogany wood container, two shelves, barely filled, on the opposite sides of it, both hugging close to the wall. All the random boxes left partially opened behind the TV filling up the space behind it all. Almost like every construction box was a tessera in the mosaic background of our portrait.

“What are you just standing there for?” Mustafa turned to me, I found it so interesting watching the blue light move across his face as he turned, how his glasses almost sparkled to me. “Ponyboy, it’s getting good,”

I guess he was right, I was just standing there like an idiot. I walked over and sat next to him on the couch, reclining into my seat and throwing my leg over my knee. “What’s going on?” I asked,

“He can’t swim,” Was all Mustafa said as he pointed to the tv. It was some cartoon I had never seen before. The art style was flat with barely any shading and clear outlines. The characters, likewise, were also very similar with undetailed bodies. The only real distinction made by the artists seemed to be to be their heads, torsos, legs, and arms. The bare minimum.

They were at sea. The water was dark and murky, a greenish black, like a cup of water used to clean paint off brushes, and it moved wildly. The sky was a deep blue, practically felt black. With the outline of clouds drawn in towards the top, and piercing blue lightning striking every few frames. The two characters in the scene were on a dark brown, I assume wooden, boat with little lines of different shades of brown drawn into it’s surface to indicate texture.

One, a skinny male figure with a circular head about the same width as its shoulders, was completely paper white. With the outline of goggles drawn onto its face, to serve as eyes, and a line that changed shape to serve as a mouth. This character was hanging off from the ledge of the boat, clearly on the verge of getting swept away.

The other was built practically the same, except it was just pitch black, barely sticking out from the sky that overarched him.

“Don’t let me go, please,” The white one said, holding onto the ledge of the boat with one hand and grabbing out towards the black one with its other. “I’m like an leech in an egg shell, Shinouda,”

“Once that egg cracks, I can’t stop myself from biting into others. My anger burns their skin, my tears are caused by their happiness. I just want to be loved, but once that egg is cracked, all I can is survive on the blood of others.”

Shinouda didn’t answer, but just held onto the white one hands hand, looking down at him with a curved neck,

“Please, Shinouda,” The white one begged, “We’re exactly alike, I know it, please tell me how to fix it, how to fix myself,”

“Why can’t I work?” The white one asked, “Why do my wants push others away? Why does every form of self love feel like an attack on others? Why does it feel like the only meat I can live off is the meat of others?”

“Please Shinouda, tell me how to stop being a leech,” The white one pleaded, his voice piercing into his throat like a dog trying to climb a tree, “Why can’t I love others and love myself? Why must I destroy others to save myself?”

“Do I just have to push everyone away? Do I have to live alone forever? Must I starve myself until I die?” His goggles closed like eyelids, too heavy to bare the burden of seeing. “Why does every time I touch my heart it feel like a porcupine’s back? Why is everything right for me, wrong for others?”

“Shinouda, please respond, I know you feel the same,”

Finally, Shinouda spoke, “Baldwin, repeat after me,”

“I am a human and I have weight,”

“I am a human and I have weight,” Baldwin replied,

“I am a human and I have weight,” Shinouda repeated,

“I am a human and I have weight,”

“I am a human and I have weight,”

“I am a human and I have weight,”

And then Shinouda let go of Baldwin’s hand, and kicked him off the ledge of the boat. Baldwin fought all he could against the dark waves, waving his hands back and forth, paddling, spinning his body up an down, side to side, but it was to no avail. His body fell lower, and lower. The “camera” panning down into the sea, as we saw his body get smaller and smaller. The lighting still flashing against the surface, illuminating it as he drowned.

I turned to Mustafa, “Is he gonna swim?” I asked, but all he could do was shrug.