Dont Blame Me

Chapter 27

"Because it would make things easier for me," I say softly.

She opens her mouth, but whatever he was going to say fell to its own death alongside my defensive words.
Relenting, she grabs her hoodie from behind her shoulders and pulls it over her head, dragging up her white t-shirt. I see a glimpse of an elaborate tattoo before her shirt falls back down. She doesn't say anything, just rests her elbows on her spread knees.
Balancing my butt on my heels, I blow out a breath and start kneading her shoulder muscles. It feels like pressing my knuckles into a boulder.

"Jesus," I mutter, pressing harder. She groans deeply, her head dropping low between her shoulders as I dig at the knots polluting her muscles. We don't speak. Not for a little while. My hands grow tired, but I don't complain, nor do I stop. Slowly, she relaxes beneath my touch, her muscles beginning to loosen beneath my persistent fingers.

"Tell me," I wherper, attacking a particularly brutal knot that pulls a groan from deep in her chest.
She doesn't respond right away, and I can feel the internal battle from outside her flesh and bones.

"I lost a young girl today," she confesses, her voice hoarse and uneven.
I swallow, sadness spearing deep in my chest. She pauses, and I don't speak. Letting her find the words at her own pace.

"She was very traumatized and wouldn't stop screaming. I wasn't in the building yet, I was still working my way in when I heard the gunshot go off." She pauses, taking a moment to collect herself. "I heard the conversation before I killed them. She was fighting them tooth and nail. It didn't matter how much they threatened to kill her, she fought anyways."

Her hands fist, and every muscle I worked hard to relax stiffens again as Lisa fights against her own demons. I pinch my eyes shut, berating myself for what I'm about to do. But if I don't... it would be unforgivable. I would hate myself. Sighing softly, I sit on my butt and wrap myself around her like a koala on a tree. Legs and arms around her torso and my head resting against her broad back. She doesn't move, a stone pillar amongst the wreckage of her mind, just like the ruins in Greece.

"Dying isn't the worst thing that happened to her. It's just the worst thing that happened to you and her family," I whisper. I feel the shift of her head, her eyes peering over her shoulder at me. But I don't meet her gaze.

"The life she would've had to live would've been far more painful than where she is now."

"You think it's a good thing she died?" she asks, her tone flattening.

"Of course not," I placate, squeezing her tighter. "Being stolen from her life. Her family and friends. And then being put into an incredibly horrendous and fucked up situation. It's the worst thing that could've happened to her." My voice breaks on the last few words, and it takes a minute to put myself back together.

"But dying? Dying is not, Lisa. She was screaming because she was fighting against the life that she was being forced to endure the only way she knew how. It wasn't her right to end her life. But he did it anyways, and I... I hope he suffers for it. But after what they did to her, I know that she is more at peace now than she would've been alive."

She stays silent, and I'm not sure if I've made her feel worse or better. But I told her what I believe to be true. Sometimes people just aren't meant to live through that trauma. A shell of who they could've been. Broken and fighting every day not to die. I think if she had lived, she could've learned to be happy again. I think everyone who suffers from internal demons can find that. We're all capable. But sometimes, unseen forces take it out of everyone's hands, and maybe that just means they were meant to find their happiness in the afterlife instead. I unwrap myself from Lisa and move away. Her head drops, and she looks almost disappointed. She stands, and aims for the door, but she doesn't make it two steps before I'm snatching her hand and tugging her back.
She looks back at me, silent and confused.