Chapter 24 - Remember

Tw// This chapter discusses self harm in some depth. If you aren't comfortable with that, find it triggering, or aren't in a good state of mind then I recommend skipping this chapter or moving to the part that starts with ~⁠✧~

If you are struggling with your mental health please do reach out for professional help, there are some free resources online you can access as well! Look after yourselves.

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The journey back was quiet, solemn in a way that can only be felt and not explained. The longer we stayed in the silence, the heavier the guilt pressed down on me. The silence was never fully silent, with my mind yelling obscenities at itself. To distract myself I kept scratching at my skin until it would break and start bleeding, but even then I couldn't stop myself. I would find a new plot of land on my hands and arms and go right back to scratching at it all over again. Had anyone asked, I wouldn't have been able to explain why I was doing that. It's good that no one asked. We were all too busy in our own heads.

By the time we arrived at the main gates of the academy my arms no longer looked like my own. They were red and puffy with irritated skin that stung and burned in a way water could not put out. I pulled down my sleeves and put my arms into my pockets as we walked in. This side of me didn't fit in with the reality of the academy. It was far too different from the laughter that could be heard and the smiling students as they ran after one another. It didn't fit in with the relatively expensive building and well looked after gardens surrounding it, nor the clear sky that was devoid of any tears. We were all out of place but at least I was able to hide mine to some extent.

~⁠✧~

By the time I had reached my room I had no energy to do anything. It didn't matter that my shoes were dirty with mud that followed me everywhere, nor that my clothes clung to my body from the sweat of the guilty. No matter how hard I cleansed myself I could never truly be clean. Filthier than anything the world could throw at my body was me and what lay beneath my skin. The fact that even now I hid my power and how it had led to our loss was evidence enough that I could no longer be saved. So I lay in bed, dirty clothes and all, huddling into a ball to comfort myself when I didn't deserve it.

Exhaustion managed to creep in as I fell asleep but even that could not help me. Waking up in cold sweat I realised that I was far from leaving the cage I placed myself in. The nightmares persisted night after night, and each time they appeared I grew weaker. Every morning I would wake up with less hope for the next day, with more hatred towards myself if that was even possible, and with less will to do anything. It was evident in the way I held myself, slowly reverting to the miserable person I was.

People approached me but I had no words to say, so they too abandoned me. The small amount of favourability I had gained rapidly left as I continued to distance myself more and more from others and reality. Anson and Xavier would occasionally call out to me from behind my door but I could not bring myself to open it. Instead they would be met with silence. At first they came every night, waiting for twenty minutes before giving up. But soon every night became every two, then three, then weekly, fortnightly and so on. Twenty minutes became ten, then five, then simple knocks to try once more. Even their kindness and patience had abandoned me.

Masquerading as a human, I fulfilled my duties to the best of my abilities. I attended classes, ate my meals, maintained my personal hygiene, and worked on the report of the expedition. Even when the word expedition made me nauseous and images of their corpses continued to flash in my mind, I did what I had to. I did it not because I wanted to but because I could. I could but Hank and Leslie could not. That was all there was to it. I lived because they could not, because it would be a shame to die, and because I needed to live to regret and remember my regret.

There was no point in life aside from living so I followed the textbook definition. I did as I was told but nothing more. There was no space for joy, not when I didn't want it in my life. As much as I made my life out to be pathetic I knew I was making it this way on purpose. In reality I had the key to let me out but I wanted to stay cooped up here and forgotten. One day I would leave all of this behind me and have a normal life but that day is not today.

Instead I attended the funerals with no tears in my eyes. Even when I watched them being lowered in the ground they weren't dead, not to me. How could they be gone if they appeared every night when the sun went down? Even if they hated me and I was afraid of their presence, it comforted me. I was deluding myself, believing that in some way, shape or form they remained. Only then could I keep myself from breaking and continue doing what I needed to do so I could continue as a person. Some of the teammates pat my shoulder as we all parted but I couldn't feel it. I couldn't fell anything except the storm brewing inside me.

I moved like clockwork. I would wake up, stare at the ceiling and overthink for an hour before getting out of bed. Then I would get ready, eat, head to classes, try to concentrate, eat, try to concentrate, leave, change and sleep. This routine didn't change no matter who tried to invite me out somewhere or to do something. At some point it became meaningless to even listen to what I was being invited to because I knew the answer I'd give was always a no.

I didn't have time for it or for anything really. I needed to sleep where I'd see them again. Maybe this time they would be in less pain or even forgive me. Maybe this time I would see myself reach out to protect them. Even if I didn't, at least I wouldn't forget their faces. That's what frightens me the most, forgetting. If I were to forget after doing something so despicable, well I don't know what I would do. As much as I wanted to be put together, using a routine to appear okay, I truly didn't know anything. I was afraid of my nightmares yet it was the only thing that got me through the day. I was contradictory like that.

Most of my life was full of questions that had no answers.