Entropy

XII - To Die Alone

The rain had stopped.

It was now some hours later after the confrontation in the Helsing Center. The sky overhead was a rusty copper that snaked between the clouds; the dying sunlight only barely brushed the tops of the skeleton-like trees that towered over Lyra. Dead leaves and ice crunched under her boots as a puff of warm air escaped her lips. The forest was still, and its bitter air was clean and crisp.

A weary Lyra walked along the forest path alone.

She was on the outskirts of the campus. She'd gone home briefly to change from her soaked clothes, but went outside again as soon as the sky cleared up, unable to bear the isolation. 

She followed the trail that wound from the back of the university's culture center and deep into the Miller woods. She'd gone there once when she was looking for her missing roommate at 2AM, freshman year, and several other times when she needed a place to think. It was a nice path, wasn't too hard to traverse. You just had to be careful of the tree roots and some low shrubs, or you'll trip. Mindlessly, one foot was put in front of the other as she walked without noticing her surroundings and all the scenery. Something was just...bothering her, but she couldn't put a name on it.

It wasn't long until she reached her favorite place, the bridge that ran over the Miller river. She leaned over the edge, as she usually did, did try to see if there were any fish swimming. But then she stared in shock at what she saw in her reflection. The reddish, orange light of the sunset cast upon the water made it appear as if she was floating in a river of copper-colored blood.

The illusion passed quickly, but she couldn't help but stare at that image of herself, floating in the water. That girl in the water, it didn't feel like her. It felt like she was watching distantly someone else.

She walked off the bridge and crouched on the side of the river to get a closer view of her reflection.

Reaching out, she brushed the surface of the water with her fingers, rippling the reflection. After a few seconds, the image of herself reformed. The pastel pink strands of her hair came back together, her jawline wobbled back into place, her sad, sad eyes reformed. And she finally knew just what had been bothering her.

Hiding in the icy water was her reflection, the hideous reflection of all of her fears and insecurity. What she saw was a girl who was scared to be alone and yet was too scared to approach others, a girl that had long ago concluded that to be alone was to feel safe. Alone, there is no one to judge you.

The disgust she had at her patheticness, her inability to simply say "Hello, what's your name?" to someone she didn't know, her fear of being seen as weird, too clingy, different, the way her voice caught in her throat and she felt like she was going to suffocate before those words would come out of her mouth-she harbored all of that inside her, and it ate her up like a parasite. It was a horrible feeling, of walking into the dining hall and having that feeling of humiliation of when it was too crowded and there was no room for her to eat alone, of when she had to circle around, feeling like she was standing out, searching, searching for a place she could sit. Every table was taken by a pack of people with only an empty seat or two. There was no place for her.

So she'd finally thought that she'd found a solution: what people thought of her...that didn't matter so much. What truly scared her was the insecurity and uncertainty. Was she really standing out too much? Did people take a look at her and start talking behind her back? Her stiff, dry, dyed hair and contacts said it all-she would make herself stand out so she would be judged for sure. Dressing up to stand out, the mascara and eye-shadow to hide her puffy red eyes-the paranoia would go away. She wouldn't have to wonder about if they were staring at her anymore, because she'd know that they will be....and if she could learn to embrace those jealous, patronizing, resentful looks of her classmates...teachers...parents...if she could form a cold steel shell, harden her heart, learn to suppress her emotions until all that was left of her was an apathetic, numb robot...then it wouldn't hurt anymore, right?

That had been part of why she'd gotten so into robotics; robots don't judge-they don't feel, they don't think. They could never hate her or make empty compliments about how unusually "gifted" she was for her age and then call her a self-important bitch whenever she wasn't around. A robot would hug her whenever she needed a hug. A robot would listen whenever there was no one else to talk to.

But looking into that same girl's eyes now...underneath her make-up, underneath her colored contacts and punk gothic clothes and fake indifferent expression...No matter how hard she tried to change, her insecurity was still there, waiting patiently.

No matter how hard she tried to hide it, the truth remained the same: that girl on the other side...was lonely.

"GO AWAY!" Violently, she splashed the reflection in the river. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

But no matter what she did, her reflection, the truth, all her fears and insecurities came rushing back, rippling through the calm surface of the river. In defeat, she fell to her knees, her shaking arms barely supporting her as she peered over the river to look closer at that sad, sad girl.

Another face appeared beside her reflection, over her shoulder. She saw it for the briefest second.

And her head was plunged into the water.

An iron-grip at the base of her neck, squeezing out the air, slowly, slowly. Fingers, cutting into her thin and defenseless skin with their edges and ice-cold touch, refusing to let go. Those fingers weren't as soft as flesh-they were hard, angular, sharp, almost as if they were made of metal. No, when she rushed her own fingers to her neck and tried to pry them off, she felt strips of metal moving under something...squishy, loose, jiggling, like bits of uncooked flesh sliding off of a metal skewer.

But now...it didn't matter what was attacking her.

Her eyes were closed, but she still felt the darkness of the water enveloping and crushing her head. The pressure was getting stronger and stronger. Her lungs burned until, on instinct, she tried to inhale. Water rushed through her nose, and it burned, it burned.

She felt her loose, fake hair float around her as she felt lighter and lighter.

The assailant's grip on her neck didn't loosen, but her grip on her life did. 

No one is here...I should be used to it...but it still...hurts...that no one will come for me...No one will save me...

I never wanted...to die alone...