Carver, Penelope's Questionnaire

I live in Seattle, have for my entire life. I love the rain, it's always been so comforting to me. Plus it let's me put on my layers more often than not, and I'm not going to give that up easily. Especially now that Julia is... dead. I can't really tell if living in the same building and walking by her door every day is good for me, but I can't really can't imagine leaving. And it's not like I can even find another place to live right now. At least my apartment is still cozy! Has a lot more plants now, but that's hardly a problem. It might be a little cramped, but I don't need much space.

I work part time as a waiter at a local restaurant. Doesn't pay too well, but it's enough to buy groceries and pay rent until I get that high paying job in a hospital I keep telling my parents about. Normally I'd try to put some cash into savings but I really can't afford to do that right now. Besides, I don't really see much of a point to saving. Future isn't looking too bright, and I can't picture what's going to happen next week, let alone 5 years down the line. So yeah, I get myself plants and some cute knick knacks, because if I feel like shit, I'll at least have a nice place to stay while feeling it.

We've all lost someone close to us, and none of us deserve to go through something like that. I want to make it possible for us to connect to the other side, so that we can all rest assured as to what waits for us once we die. And so that we won't have to lose the people who die. They'd be fountains of knowledge, letting us learn about long lost civilizations, ancient historical puzzles solved in a snap! Imagine, we could find out what it was actually like on the day Jesus died. What his miracles looked like to the people who lived through them, we could even confirm he existed in the first place! And- and maybe I could talk to her again. Even just once.

Julia's death. It's been about a month since her funeral and since then everything has been... gray. The elevator ride up to my apartment is so much quieter now, I fucking hate it. The only times I seem to even feel anything are when I'm pissed at everything around me. I still, go through the motions though. I still go to my classes, clock into work, come back home, go up that fucking elevator, fall asleep, do it all again. I just can't see the point in anything anymore. I don't know how much longer I can live like this, something needs to change. I need to do something before I just, dissolve.

Dr. Belmont, my mentor. She's been helping me out with my studies for years, and she's really sweet. Lately she's just been checking up on me though. I think it's pretty obvious there's something up with me, and she's taken notice. We used to talk about the work I was doing for my studies, but now we just chat. She makes a really good chamomile tea.

Jeffery, my new neighbor. He moved in like, two weeks after Julia died. He's nice, tried to introduce himself to me but I kinda blew up at him. I don't want to be an asshole, but I just... can't look at him without getting angry.

Julio, Julia's old boss. I had never really talked to him before she died, but we met at her funeral. Apparently, she talked about me a lot. He's been very kind, always keeping his door open in case I wanted to talk about it with someone who knew her. I might actually take him up on that offer.

Childhood was pretty quiet. I fit in well enough, had a few friends, the works. It was honestly kinda boring. I remember always feeling trapped by my circumstances, though. I was supposed to be this perfect straight A student because I want to be a doctor. My parents are real proud of me, but I swear they always show me off like some sort of trophy, and that was even more the case when I was just a little kid trying my best to learn about what being a doctor really was. Every test was an opportunity to prove I was "serious" about signing up for med school. I was 13!! It didn't matter if I was serious about it or not, I was supposed to be some dumb teenager not trying to figure out what to do with my life. And don't even get me started on my "friends". I've always had trouble talking with people, and they treated me like a fucking pet project-

...I guess my childhood was quiet. Just, not in a good way.

Yeah I was in love, once. She was the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I had actually never been attracted to anyone before, I assumed some boy would catch my eye soon enough. I've since learned I don't like boys at all, go figure. She worked as a mechanic, and god did she love cars. If I was having a particularly shit day I could always tell her and she would happily sit with me and just chat about whatever I wanted to cheer me up. If it was bad enough I didn't really feel like talking, she would just as happily tell me all about her car, how her day at the shop went, anything at all to get my mind off things. I could listen to her talk for hours, and I did! People always thought she was rough around the edges, took too many risks, but to me she always felt so soft.

Her name was Julia. We never even dated.

I'm terrified of connection. I'm terrified that when I get close to someone, they'll just... die. I'm not sure I can take that happening to me again. I made a new... friend while on the job. Her name is Kanni, she's a robot. She's really tall and strong, and she has the most beautiful purple hair. I want to be closer to her. But every time I think about her, I see the coffin. I see the family, united in their grief and love for a daughter taken from them too soon. I see her, sitting there, with her cute little toothpick. You know, I actually gave her a pack of toothpicks in the end. I don't know why, I just couldn't imagine her going where ever it is the dead go without a toothpick to fiddle with. What would I bring to everyone else's funeral? I can't bear to think of it. It must be easier to just never get another invite to one.

Dr. Belmont is worried about me, I've been avoiding our usual tea times. But I can't help it. Every cup is bitter with the taste of loss. Everywhere I go, all I see is walking funerals.

Most prized possessions? Easy, Julia's houseplants. Before, it was just making me miserable to take care of them. Nothing but an act of emotional self harm I insisted on doing to make myself feel something.

But now, it's different.

When I water them, change their soil, clean their pots, it doesn't make me miserable about her being gone. Now I'm reminded of all the moments we've shared that I loved so much. The things that make me still love her, even now.

The moment where I convinced her to name her plants is still so vivid in my mind. She'd had this sad little succulent sitting on her desk for months. It was in a tiny pot, with soil that was way too dry for it (an achievement, when it comes to succulents). Every time I came over it caught my attention, practically begging me to say something about it, and I finally did on some random day I was hanging out. I asked what she had named it.

Julia, the same Julia who bothered me for literal months to let her name my car, looked at me like I was insane for suggesting that houseplants should be named.

Long story short, after a fierce debate I converted her to my way of thinking (or she was just humoring me, I didn't mind either way) and this lonesome succulent was dubbed: Atlas. After that she started bring more plants into her space, and she named every last one of them.

Atlas lives on my desk now, under it's own private plant light.