A Touch Of Hate

Chapter 22

Verity

The world shuttered and broke into million shards, sharp as the tip of an ODM blade. My vision went dark, and my hearing shut down. All that was left was this bone-crushing pain that swelled in my chest, threatening to break through skin and bone.

And I latched onto it, terrified of the void that awaited beyond. I let the hurt swirl inside me, filling every cell of my body with agony. It was the only thing I had left of Kenny. This soul-wrenching pain. There was nothing beyond it. And I had to do everything in my power to not let go. Because if I did, there would be no one else left. I would be utterly alone.

And I couldn't bear the thought.

The burning in my chest expanded, shifting up into my throat, as the stinging in my limbs intensified. The buzzing in my ears grew louder, more urgent. I could feel someone's hands on me. The tangent burns they left along their wake brought the sickening comfort that I neither accepted nor deserved.

My heart bled and bled, and the world kept crashing into pieces around me, while I sat there, staring straight into the frightening emptiness of my own soul.

I was done for.

It should've been me.

***

The wall was crooked. And the more I stared at it, the more obvious it became. A tall shadow cast by a tree just outside the window to my right curved at the uneven bumps on the wall, leaving grey patches of concrete in the dark silhouette. I counted five big spots and more than a dozen smaller ones. They looked like bullet-holes, and I couldn't stop imagining who could've made them.

My mind was peacefully blank, probably thanks to the pills the medical staff was stuffing down my throat three times a day. I had no idea what they were, but neither did I care. In fact, I couldn't bring myself to care about anything but those damned skewed walls. It would've been liberating if I didn't remember what'd happened and why I'd ended up here.

Medicine did the trick, it numbed me to the point that I couldn't give much shits about the events that'd transpired. But it did nothing to my memory. And the sickening feeling of a missing reaction that I knew I was missing was strange, to say the least. It was simply like I didn't care, even though I knew I had to. It was like being drunk to the point of numbness. Feeling so lost in the drowning calmness that you can't bring yourself to worry about anything at all.

And somehow it felt even worse.

Hange came and went a few times a day. I didn't mind her presence. She was this wobbly, caring spirit that you just can't bring yourself to hate. She brought me books to read and told me about what was going on outside the hospital wing. I did my best to nod and play along, but I had a feeling I wasn't as good at it as I thought I was. Hange's forehead was constantly crossed with a deep frown lines, and I felt a tinge of shame every time she winced when she moved her upper body.

She was hurt in the last battle; I remembered. And that could've been prevented if only I'd done something, anything, before Kenny'd given me this mission.

I chuckled. Just thinking about standing up to him seemed hilarious to me. I was never so self aware. I was never that strong.

Yet, didn't I make a choice before the cave fell onto our heads? Didn't I send him the fuck away and chose another path for myself?

Yeah, well. Now he was dead. Kenny was gone. And I had no other reason to keep on going. I'd played the fate long enough. It was due time to face the impending end.

The Captain visited me all but a few times. His presence was too much to bear, though, so I wasn't complaining. Every time he entered the room, my mind shut off, as if in self preservation, and the shadows on the walls became increasingly more interesting. He sat with me for hours, watching me silently, like one would a painting in a gallery. Sometimes he would read to me, but I couldn't focus on anything but his voice, which reminded me too much of Kenny's.