"That wasn't okay."
"I know."
"But you sound okay with it."
"I'm not."
Kiara fell quiet for a moment, resting her back against the cold metal of the bench we sat upon. Both of our hands had tucked into our coats, and our eyes sunk to the frozen ground, mindlessly staring at each brick spaced between us. The air hissed and ruffled against our skin, sending tingles of discomfort at our fingertips and reaching around the bone that hid beneath it. Though our thoughts seemed to direct elsewhere; the last hour rattled us more than we expected. Though it seemed as though Kiara felt the worst of it.
"Have you given him stuff before?"
I answered without much of a reaction. "This is the third time."
"Sounds like it," Kiara snorted, grinding her teeth against her bottom lip. "But is this not bothersome to you? Out of every person in this town... he sought you out." She shook her head as if disappointed. "I may not know better, but I think that's called stalking, Ezra."
"He's only looking for me because I'm the only one here who was willing to give him a chance."
"Is that it?" Kiara wondered aloud as she leaned forward. "I get that you're mommy's sweetheart and all, but he's not just a person you just trust on the first day. He's a beggar, not your friend, not family-"
"He's hurting, Kiara."
"So are you!" she growled. "And you're letting his sob story exploit that. He's just going to expect that every time you walk out those gates, that you're going to help him for no gain."
"Isn't that the reason we're here?" I retorted, turning to her. Kiara scoffed.
"We're here to save everyone from threats beyond our control," she hissed. "This is one of them."
"Squeaky didn't pose a threat. He was just hungry."
"He didn't care what you were doing, he invaded our conversation begging for money from you!"
I sighed, drawing my hands out and setting my elbows on both knees. Kiara looked at me, narrowing her brown eyes while the wind tossed her hair across her face. "You don't see anything wrong there?"
"I gave the food to him willingly," I rebutted. "I just think he didn't know any better."
"W-Why are you still brushing this off? Are you okay with this?"
"I'm not!" Came my weak excuse of an answer. "I'm not. I just..."
I trailed off, clamping my, now exposed hands, together to feel the skin graze against each other. "I just... I let my mind slip. I stopped thinking about myself, again. Because that's all I'm ever good at. Besides, there's... nothing to accuse him for even if we tried. "
Kiara looked away a second time, sucking air between the spaces of her teeth. She leaned back into the bench's spinal frame, stared deep into the distant horizon of a coming darkness and exhaled.
"Ezra," she began again, softer this time. "I don't want you to run yourself into the ground this soon. Not when you have so much left to give. You're like a parental dinosaur or something. First to kill, last to eat. I mean, yeah, the academy awards servant leadership... but this is too much. You're not even twenty-two yet, you're too young to put yourself into so much responsibility; it's killing you."
Still, nothing was said, not in response. My hands tucked back into my jacket pocket, and a somber, yet annoyed, breath pushed through my nostrils once she finished. She tilted her head to me, trying to sneak into my line of sight.
"Ezra... look at me."
I didn't follow at first. My fingers twitched, folding over each other in a random motion to show my uneasiness to comply. But I couldn't help myself, eventually, and (through a muffled curse) turned to face her.
"Don't let anyone else walk over you," She said. "You're a good person... but even I know you're worth much more than that."
And to that, I nodded. But my eyes never left hers, never strong enough to draw away from that seriousness, that urgency to know that I understood. And once it stuck, her eyes softened, and her mind turned elsewhere.
"Look, I have to get back." She brushed her pants and stood up. "And I don't... have a lot left. Our military check is still in a few days, that was the last of it from the previous month."
I bowed my head again, wordlessly. My fingers drew to my jeans, rubbing into the fabric out of worry. Kiara proceeded with one last question.
"Did you eat anything earlier?"
"Yeah," I lied, blinking away from her. She nodded.
"Okay. Just..." she forced a smile as she started away. "Talk to me if things get rough. And goodnight."
I heard her feet stumble away, drifting further and further out of reach. But the time I looked back, what was once a girl of black hair, plush skin, and fierce eyes, was now just a space of time. I let out a soft shudder, facing the brick walls ahead of me. Letting the wind brush by, and the cool dark air of a new night sink into my soul. I wouldn't leave until I felt confident enough. Until I felt sure that what happened tonight was just a bad day, and nothing more.
Nothing terrible.
...
An hour later I walked away.
~~~~
But the night was no better.
But the night was no better.
Apparently lying to your new friend (and yourself) bore consequences worse than the initial thought. For tonight, the result of my kindness finally reared its ugly head, and cursed me into hell.
I woke up starving. Badly. I grimaced and whimpered, tossing and turning in my bed as I sought comfort. Yet my stomach growled on, churning like an unoiled clock. I could feel it pulsing, its flesh pounding into my abdomen with reckless abandonment. My head began to throb, too, and my eyes began to fill with specks of tears, unveiling my pain to the hidden stars beyond the window pane.
"Ah..." I drew my rear from my bed and sunk my head into the mattress ground, whining like a stray. "Nngh... a-aah..."
Shouldn't have lied, I thought. Shouldn't have shut up, Ezra.
I didn't want to hurt her anymore...
Now you're hurting yourself.
I curled my nails into the blanket, whimpering helplessly as the pain manifested. Before long, I forced myself from the bedding and pushed to the carpet, groaning aloud as I stumbled off. My hands raced to a refrigerator in my dorm, my roommates, thankfully. But, when I opened it, there was nothing there. Just cooling packs for the flesh -- that wasn't going to help at all.
Fuck it. Just drink water, it'll go away.
"Okay..." I hissed, moving to the sink and turning on the faucet.
Nothing came out.
"What?" I gasped, flickering the metal gears open and closed. Not even a drop was freed. Nor did the shower work either. Panicked, I stumbled to my phone and snagged it from the desk, eying a notification released 2 hours ago.
MMACOM: PLEASE ADVISE: ZINC WATER MAINTENANCE IN ORDER FROM 0100-0700 ACROSS ALL HALLS. PLEASE DO NOT OPEN ANY WATER SYSTEMS.
"This can't be happening," I shook my head. "This can't-"
I suddenly dropped the phone and bent over, gasping aloud. A rush of pain overcame my stomach, and my head erupted with alarm, already fearing the worst.
Food. Water. I need something. Anything.
Wardroom... My eyes widened. Go to the Wardroom!
My legs felt like jelly as I forced myself from the room. Drool began spilling from my jaws as I waded forward, while my lips cracked under the dryness of the air.
Step.
Drag.
Step.
Drag.
I never felt a primal need like this before. There was something animalistic that crossed my eyes as I looked around, an insatiable lust that needed to be filled by anything. I stumbled from wall to wall, groaning aloud. My claws sunk into the wall as I walked, and my fangs tightened as deep, painful growls broke from my throat.
"Okay..." I croaked, fighting back the tears as I walked on. "Okay, you're almost there... it's just up ahead..."
Step.
Drag.
Step.
Drag.
Somehow I managed to drag myself into the room. My ache was growing, my anguish burning, and my thoughts were soon washed away by the dread I now felt. Sinking to the ground, I baby crawled the rest of myself to the refrigerator doors of our space, and swung it open.
Empty.
"Agh!" I cried out, frustration and panic bursting free from their tomb. I sank to the walls, abiding by it, whining quietly as I rode through each wave of pain like the tail end of a school bus on a dirt road. I couldn't move. I couldn't think. My feet kicked and dragged at the ground in panic, lungs squeezing for air as I huffed and puffed.
No food.
No water.
Nothing but pain.
I knew I wasn't going to starve out. That wasn't bound to happen for some time. But the pain would last for eons, never to let me sleep, to settle, to wonder or plead. I'd be stuck here until morning, fixated on a natural need that could not be fulfilled, turning more desperate than thoughtful, and more animal than human.
"Help..." I croaked aloud, thumping my ringing head against the walls, tears streaming down my face. "Please help me, please..."
My feet continued to kick and thrust, dragging the base of my slippers into the molded wood beneath it. It rubbed and squeaked like a mouse, and my eyes strained against it, hoping to block it out. But that was all I heard. No footsteps were imminent, no voices were spoken-
Nobody was coming.
...
...
"Ezra?"
I opened my eyes. And there, standing ahead of me, was Mom. And she was smiling, like the radiant angel she was; her plush, warm face still dazzling against the backdrop of the shadows.
"M-Mom?"
"What's wrong, sweetie?" she sank to one knee, extending a hand to brush the tears away from my cheek. I whimpered quietly, pressing against it to feel her warm a second time. I nearly broke in front of her.
"E-Everything's wrong," I whispered, finally forcing the tears out. "I'm losing m-myself... I'm losing hope..."
"I can fix that..." She reached into her back pocket and withdrew a Lays chip bag. "Vending machine in the basement still works. To.. make up for the Chipotle order you gave to your friend."
I didn't move at first. My eyes stared upon the shivering green bag, jaws still drooling with the need to feast, yet my mind reconsidered it. And, for a while, so did I.
"I know you're still hungry," Mom said with a sad smile. "You don't have to admit to it."
I sniffed the air for a moment, mainly to draw in that rolling wet ooze from my snout that contributed to my tears, and graciously took the chip bag from her. She looked down the hallway, then back at me.
"Let me walk you back. Tell me all about this problem happening... then I'll leave you."
"Leave?"
"I can't stay, remember?" she rubbed my hairy head, feeling the curls and bends of the strands as she extended a hand to me. "But I don't want you to be sad. So, just for today... talk to me. It'll make you feel better. Is that fair?"
I blinked, meeting Mom's eyes once more. All I wanted was to whine away the night. To snarl about those people that did me wrong. To retch and spit, to sob and mourn, to do everything my body has begged me to do since the nightmare began. Relief... that was the feeling I most desired. And now, I hoped to the stars that it was in reach. I hoped that, being with her, it would finally push the weight off my shoulders...
It was a wish, yes. But I believed in it. And so did she.
"Yeah," I nodded, accepting her hand and silencing my tremors for the final time of the night. "That's fair."