Iya bolted upright in bed, a loud scream escaping her lips. The familiar click of a gun being cocked next to her sent a shiver down her spine, and she instinctively raised her hands. "Sorry," she chuckled nervously, meeting her roommate Gabrielle's steely gaze. "Don't startle me like that, please," Gabrielle sighed, lowering her weapon. "I'm sorry too."
Iya had moved in with Gabrielle just a week ago, partly due to her late arrival for the academy's opening, leaving her without a roommate, and partly because Gabrielle's previous roommate had departed a month earlier. Despite their age difference, Gabrielle surprised Iya with her kindness and helpfulness, going against the stereotype of a typical senior. She not only showed Iya around the school but also shared numerous life hacks for navigating life at the RMA, many of which centered on securing extra food rations.
Despite their perfect roommate dynamic, there was one aspect that disrupted their harmony—the occasional screams and being held at gun point incidents, a byproduct of Gabrielle's time in the RMA. Despite this, Gabrielle respected Iya's privacy and didn't report the issue to the psychologist, as per Iya's request.
However, this adjustment in living arrangements held an unexpected advantage for Gabrielle: she found herself waking up earlier than usual, as Iya's nightmares consistently struck at 4 a.m. Yet, this newfound punctuality not only earned Gabrielle praise from her classmates but also from her instructors, bringing her a sense of fulfillment. With a smile, she leaped from her bunk bed, ready to start the day.
"I'm sorry again, about everything," Iya muttered, her voice tinged with remorse.
"It's okay, Iya," Gabrielle replied, waving her hand dismissively as she tidied her bed. She couldn't bring herself to confess to Iya that the reason she had been waking up so early lately was because of her. After all, she had worked diligently over the past week to portray herself as the perfect senior to Iya. Gabrielle had even altered her habits, refraining from indulging in her usual long baths and ensuring her belongings were kept tidier than usual.
Gabrielle swiftly donned her full uniform, hiding any signs of exhaustion or inconvenience caused by her altered routine, "bye Iya!" she yelled at Iya who was now in the bathroom, before dashing for class.
As she beheld the deserted expanse outside, a triumphant smile tugged at her lips. Once again, she had achieved her goal. Taking deliberate steps, she immersed herself in the serene beauty of the untouched morning, shielded from the hustle and bustle of human activity. Suddenly, a familiar noise broke the silence - the whirring of a leaf blower. Assuming it was her friend Mr. Hiddleton diligently at work, she cheerfully called out, "Good morning, Mr. Hiddleton!" Her greeting was met with silence, drowned out by the din of machinery. Undeterred, she made her way towards the source, intending to greet him properly. Yet, as she drew closer, her heart sank. It wasn't Mr. Hiddleton after all.
Mr. Hiddleton became Gabrielle's very good friend in her first few months at the RMA, put simply, he was as Gabrielle was to Iya, and of course, he taught Gabrielle all her meal ticket tricks. Unlike the ease Iya seemed to relish, Gabrielle's early months before she met Mr Hiddleton at the academy were marked by struggles. Frequently overwhelmed, she often found herself in tears, grappling with the demands of her training. One particularly crushing blow came after she received what her instructor deemed "the worst first-year result in history" on her shooting range test. With her confidence shattered, Gabrielle stumbled out of the classroom, her vision blurred by tears. She made her way to her beloved sanctuary at school - the Carrie tree, a place now abandoned by her peers. As she sat beneath its comforting branches, tears streamed down her cheeks, her face buried in her hands. Doubt crept into her mind as she questioned her place . "Perhaps I don't belong here after all," she sobbed. Her fingers brushed against the familiar shape of her MP3 player, a source of comfort in dark times, and memories.
"I can't do this, I can't see her like this," Gabrielle cried, her voice trembling with anguish, as Beckett drove her away from home to the hospital.
"Stop being selfish and listen to yourself, Gabby!" Beckett shot back, his tone firm. "You already rushed back from another continent to see her, so what's stopping you now?"
"It's not like that, and you know it!" she screamed, her emotions raw and unfiltered.
"Actions are all that matter to me; words are crap," Beckett hissed, his frustration palpable. "If you cannot show it's not like that, then it's exactly like that."
Tears streamed down Gabrielle's cheeks as she struggled to articulate her deepest fears. "It's just that... I don't want to watch another family member die, Beckett. It's terrifying," she confessed, her voice breaking. "I was there when my father gasped for breath, like he was drowning, until he finally passed away. And I witnessed my brother's tears until he had none left. I can't bear to see Mom go through that pain again."
"I know how you feel," Beckett said softly, his voice gentle with understanding. "But the least you can do for her now is to be there by her side."
"Okay," Gabrielle whispered, her resolve firming.
"Go on. This is something you must do alone. I'll be waiting here for you," Beckett assured her.
Entering her mother's room, Gabrielle's heart sank at the sight before her. Her mother, once vibrant and full of life, now appeared as a mere shadow of her former self – frail and weakened by illness.
"Hey, Gabrielle," her mother greeted weakly, a faint smile gracing her lips as she spotted her daughter at the doorway. "I see you made it in time."
"Mom!" Gabrielle's voice cracked with emotion as she rushed to her mother's side. "I'm sorry I was such a coward, not being here earlier."
"It's okay, baby. You take after me for that," her mother replied, her laughter tinged with sadness. "I would have done the same thing."
"It's okay, baby. You take after me for that," her mother replied, her laughter tinged with sadness. "I would have done the same thing."
"How did the exam go?" her mother inquired, shifting the conversation.
"Don't worry about that, Ma," Gabrielle deflected.
"Please, let me worry about how my daughter is doing," her mother insisted gently.
"I passed. All that's left is the practical exam," Gabrielle admitted, a hint of pride in her voice.
"Well done. I'll give you my secret cake recipe," her mother offered, trying to lighten the mood.
"Don't give it to me, Mom. Bake it for me instead," Gabrielle pleaded, her voice thick with emotion.
"I don't think I'll ever bake again, Gabrielle. The Ops have gotten me," her mother chuckled weakly.
"Don't talk like that, Ma," Gabrielle implored.
"You gotta admit, that was a good one," her mother remarked, with a hint of pride
"It was, Ma," Gabrielle agreed, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"I know, right? A nurse taught me how to use the word a while ago, and I haven't stopped since then," her mother confessed proudly.
"Gabrielle, please take the MP3 player on the table beside me," her mother instructed, changing the subject.
"What is that?" Gabrielle examined the gray, plastic rectangle with curiosity.
"It's ancient Earth technology, also a family heirloom. My father gave it to me, and his father gave it to him. You have to select the file with my name, forget the other 4 names there, and it will play what's recorded in it. Listen with the earpiece," her mother explained.
"Stop talking like this, Ma," Gabrielle pleaded, her voice trembling.
"Like how?".
"Like you are about to go away," Gabrielle's voice cracked with emotion.
"Don't worry, I won't ever leave you, Gabrielle," her mother reassured her with a smile.
"Do you promise?" Gabrielle asked, seeking reassurance.
"I promise you," her mother replied firmly.
"The MP3 player would probably fetch a ton of money now. I don't know how much, but feel free to sell it whenever you are tight on cash, okay?" her mother suggested, trying to be practical.
"I won't sell it, but thanks, Ma," Gabrielle replied, clutching the device tightly. Gabrielle watched her mother quietly for the next hour, each labored breath a painful reminder of the fragility of life.
"Gabrielle?" her mother's voice broke the silence.
"Yes, Ma?" Gabrielle replied softly, her heart heavy with dread.
"Do you still pray?" her mother inquired, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes, Ma," Gabrielle affirmed, her voice trembling with emotion. She had indeed kept her promise after the events of that fateful night in the alley.
"Please, could you pray with me? I'm scared," her mother croaked, her vulnerability laid bare.
"Yes, Mother," Gabrielle's voice broke as she spoke, attempting to suppress her tears. She leaned in closer, intertwining her fingers with her mother's trembling hand.
"I'll start," her mother began, her voice wavering with emotion. "Dear God, I'm grateful for keeping me this long, to watch my daughter grow this big and beautiful. I'm grateful for the beautiful life you gave me, the beautiful family you gave me. God kno- You know, I didn't deserve any of it, but you did it anyway. I'm sorry. It's been long since I spoke to you. Maybe it's true that we only seek you when we need something, and I'm sorry for that, especially because that's why I'm praying now. Please keep Gabby safe, let her become a better woman than I ever was. Please help her to be the best she could ever be. I thank you for the friends you gave her," her mother paused, her gaze drifting to an empty corner in the room. "Please help them to look out for her, to be there for her, I beg of you, please."
"And most of all, please take me to wherever Danny and Welt are. I'm sure that's the new cheat code for getting into heaven these days," her mother's lips curled with a weak smirk.
"Amen," Gabrielle sobbed, her tears flowing freely as she echoed her mother's prayer.
"It's your turn to pray, Gabrielle," her mother smiled weakly.
"My Heavenly Father, I am thankful for the life you have given my mother. I thank you for letting me be her daughter," Gabrielle began, her voice choked with tears. She struggled to continue, her grief threatening to overwhelm her. She could already hear her mother fading away.
"Continue, Gabrielle," her mother urged, her voice barely a whisper.
"Please, forgive her for any wrongdoings she may have," Gabrielle pleaded, her words punctuated by sobs.
"Amen," her mother whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Please, make her get better," Gabrielle implored, desperation lacing her voice.
Her mother didn't reply. Panic seized Gabrielle, "Mom?" she cried out, her voice tinged with horror.
"MOM!" she screamed, her anguish echoing through the room. She felt warm hands wrap around her in a comforting embrace, but she pushed them away. "No, Beckett, LET ME GO!" she screamed through tears, her voice raw with pain, as she desperately clawed her way towards her mother. She crumbled in his arms, her screams mingling with the chaos as white coats and gowns rushed into the room, surrounding her mother as her vision faded to black.
"Are you alright, miss?" the young man before her squealed, pulling Gabrielle out of her reverie.
"Ah, yes, I'm fine, thank you," Gabrielle mumbled, still out of it.
"Okay."
"Where is—"
"Mr. Hiddleton?" the young man completed it for her.
"Yes."
"He went for his niece's wedding, and I am standing in for him. He should be back by next week," the man explained.
"I see, okay, thank you."
"Yes."
"What's your name, by the way?" she asked.
"It's Tom," he muttered
"Have a nice day."
"You too."
As Gabrielle strolled through the school, slowly, other students started to creep into view, some being her classmates.
"Gabrielle, please, could you be in my team at shooting practice today?" one asked.
"No, our scores are lower; we need her more in our team," another voice shot back.
"Relax, guys, I'll assist everyone I can," she sighed.