Across Acheron

Session 17

Keenan didn't know how much of a bad mood I was in.

He was great at reading people, yet he did a terrible job when it came to me. He usually ended up getting stuff wrong. I didn't blame him, but that didn't stop me from getting all sour. Hell, I didn't even know what I was so mad about. I would explain it to you if I could but to be frank, I don't really feel like getting into it.

We had to abandon the car after Irial touched it, and Keenan had suggested walking the rest of the way to the small town a few miles away from us. He was fine, but I was already exhausted, dehydrated, and nearly hallucinating by two hours or so.

Mid morning had finally fallen upon us; the faint growl of my stomach proved so. Earlier on, the sun had risen from the horizon beautifully, illuminating the green hue of the tall pines lined at the side of the road. Birds flew above us and hid in the trees, filling our silence with the sound of their songs flittering through the air.

The whole thing kind of seemed fake at some moments; as if I was looking at one of those fancy paintings you guys have around the halls. I mean, it was beautiful, but I wasn't looking for pretty at that moment. I was looking for something as broken as I was.

I remember that this was one of the worst days for me, no matter how nice the sky was or how sweet the birds sang. It was terrible because it was the first day I had to pretend that I didn't like him the way I did and it didn't bother me that he took no regard to my feelings. I don't mean to sound whiny, but I can't help getting a bad taste in my mouth every time I think about it.

You're a doctor, right? Can you please explain to me why it still hurts even though I don't care anymore? My chest feels like its being compressed by five sumo wrestlers at the moment, which is why I don't get the reason people want to find love so badly. Jesus Christ. It kills you.

"Are you sure you're not tired?" Keenan asked me for the millionth time. "We could take a break if you want—"

"I'm fine. The sooner we get there, the better."

Keenan took his eyes away from me, swallowing the rest of the words he wanted to say. He looked up at the tall trees, soon muttering, "I heard that the Seelie court is like this; always bright and upbeat, full of nature and flowers and all sorts of things that will probably make you puke sparkles."

I didn't laugh, but I decided to cut him some slack. "Do you wish you were brought up there rather than where you are now?"

"What makes you say that?"

I gestured to his appearance. "Your whole glamour is like them," I explained. "You even smell like them when you wear it. I figured that you're probably depressed that your mom couldn't—"

"Oh please, Jack, I'm not that simplistic. You out of all people should know that," Keenan droned, rolling his eyes. He stretched his arms above his head, thrusting his upper body left to right. "Frankly, I hate the Seelie court. They're too bright. Too musical. I only wear my glamour this way because it reminds me of my natural skin—the one that was stolen from me."

"So you like being Unseelie?"

"I like the violence and the blood, I will admit. It's almost an addiction." He glanced over at me, his eyes teasing. "Why do you think I'm so hung up over you?"

That small statement sent fire to my cheeks faster than I had anticipated. I knew he didn't mean it that way, but I couldn't help thinking that he did. It made me hate myself a lot more, believe me.  

I kept asking God to make me numb to him, but I guess He wasn't really listening. I wanted Him to give me the strength to kick up dust and run the hell out of there like I never existed, but my feet continued to keep a steady pace with Keenan's lazy stride.