Renée

Chapter 21

I'm not sure when, but at some point, I fell asleep.

The next time I opened my eyes, it was blindingly bright inside the room. Usually, when I go to bed, Maryanne would pull the curtains. Instead, I'd left them open, and the morning sunlight was filtering into the room, making my puffy and bloodshot eyes burn.

I sit up and look at down at the bedding to see the sheets stained with tears. I'd cried myself to sleep last night, and then I relived the nightmare crash in my dreams once again. I don't think I've cried this much since I woke up here. But it isn't out of sadness.

It's out of anger.

I'm angry at Renée's father for not letting me help the injured citizens and with the disaster relief. I'm angry at the doctors for prioritizing those with wealth over those with severe injuries. I'm angry at Gwen for not listening to me and telling me not to talk to her, even though I'm only concerned about her safety. But most of all, I'm angry at myself for not being able to get my point across to any of them. Renée's father, the doctors, Gwen. None of them listened to what I was trying to say, and all of them pushed me away.

If things continue this way, how will I be able to follow my heart and be happy like the elderly woman said before I died? Nothing will have changed, and I can't let myself continue this way.

"God, I feel awful," I groan as I stare at the windows, my eyes squinting to see through the glass. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the vase with nine yellow roses, all of which are wilting. I reach towards it and pull one from the vase, staring at it as water trickles down my arm.

Gwendolyn Spacks. One of my childhood friends. One of my closest friends. And my best friend. To think she woke up here as well. To think she's here in the world with me.

To think I'm not alone.

I flop back into the mattress and stare at the canopy above me. I can't blame her for her actions or reaction to what I said last night. She's scared. She's confused. She's trying to come to terms with waking up here and losing the people she cares about, just like I had to.

I know what it's like, and I know what she's feeling. It's shocking to be thrown into a new place and have to pretend you're some else, even if your mind tells you otherwise. And to deceive everyone around you. I get it. I do, but I also get how risky this all is.

I didn't help the situation either. I was so wrapped up in everything that happened in Peirpont, and I couldn't hold back my emotions. I tried to push my views onto her with little explanation, and I'm sure I confused her more than I needed to.

Next time I see her, I need to calmly express my thoughts, so that we can work through this together. In fact, I should go see her now. We should talk this over and find a solution. After that, I should go see if Renée's father is back from Peirpont. Maybe I'll be able to convince him and explain my view to him. They can't know what I want to say if I don't express things clearly, but I'll have to remain calm through my conversations. No more lashing out, Aria.

I swing my feet over the edge of the bed. A sharp pain shoots up my legs and I stumble forwards, crashing into the nightstand. I sigh as I use the nightstand for support and glance down at my feet. The bandages are loose around the bridge of my feet, but stuck to my heel with dried blood. "I need to redo these." And maybe have an actual doctor look them over. I don't think I need stitches, though the skin was pretty frayed in places. But to ask a doctor to come and look at my feet after seeing how they treat the people in Peirpont doesn't seem all that appealing to me. For now, I'll just deal with them myself and only call one as a last resort.

Besides the issue with my heels, I'm still in the fern green dress I was wearing yesterday. It's covered in dirt, torn in multiple places, and is scratching against my skin. Before I can do anything, I need a bath, a clean set of clothes, and some bandages for my heels.