Nightingale - Dreamnotfound

||To Fight a Losing Battle||

"I'm sick of living here, Wilbur."

"Why? You are doing so well here."

"Because I never wanted to live here in the first place. Matter of fact, there are some days I wish I didn't live here or anywhere else at all."

I was surprised with how taken back he was at what I had just said. Did he really have no idea? "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Like it wasn't obvious enough?" My eyes stung and it took everything within me to not let go. I pinched the bridge of my nose harder than necessary.

"I would've tried to help you."

I scoffed at that. It was almost laughable. "Then why didn't you?"

"I didn't think there was anything wrong."

"Bullshit!" I snapped, pushing myself off my bed. "You are fucking bullshitting me right now. Of course there was something wrong! There is always something wrong. You killed my entire fucking family right in front of me and you have the guts to tell me you didn't think anything was wrong?"

"Every year I ask you if you need to talk about it and you always decline," Wilbur said, beginning to get defensive.

"Because how am I supposed to talk to you when every time I look into your eyes, I see the man who killed my family?" I sat back down and grabbed at my hair. "And yet you put the gun down for me. Why the fuck did you put the gun down?"

"Because I saw potential in you. Instead of running, you fought head-on despite it being a losing battle," Wilbur said. "And you were only ten. Most people don't gain that kind of bravery their whole lives."

"Why me? My sister wasn't much older than me and was already an infinitely better person than I will ever be. She hid me in a cabinet when she heard you coming. Had she lived, she wouldn't have been a mess. She would have moved on like a normal person would. But no. You shot her five times in the chest. One time was enough, Wilbur." My throat tightened, and I found it harder to push words out. "Sometimes I wish you pulled the trigger on me."

He ran a hand through his curly brunette hair, and his frown deepened. "I don't. You have a good heart. I've seen it so many times. We need people like you, Clay. You're the type of person who could make a real difference around here."

"I don't want to make a difference. Not if I have to suffer every single day of my life to achieve it."

Every time Wilbur fell silent, the light taunting of my heart took his place. My blood boiled. All I wanted was for it to stop. I'd tear through the floorboards if that meant it'd stop.

"Your parents would have been so proud of you, Clay," He said.

"Don't you pull that card on me," I snapped. "You never knew them."

"Yes, I did. You know, it wasn't always just me and Techno. Your parents worked with us too. They made executive decisions with us. They were my friends, Clay. I never wanted to kill them let alone their children."

The lump in my throat swelled even more. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse. My shield of anger slipped from my grasp far too soon, and everything raw underneath came out.

"Then why did you?" I asked quietly. The blood pounded in my ears. I lowered my shaky hand from my nose. It was still bleeding.

"The same reason you had to kill the common. It's a part of the job, Clay. You are going to have to make sacrifices. That's just how it works."

"No," I shook my head. "No, it doesn't make any fucking sense. Why does it have to be part of the job? You make the rules. If you didn't want to kill them, you shouldn't have."