211 Chapter 211

I didn't leave the room again. I slept. I drifted. I sat in sunshine on the balcony. I gave little notice to the hands that occasionally gathered me from wherever I had drifted to. Those hands acted like currents or winds, steering me gently to baths, towards clothes, towards bed, and towards food, though I didn't always know what to do with it. Even so, the hands pressed bits of food towards me, their words soft like the murky waters my thoughts hid under.

Somewhere through this, a single thought cut through it all, just strong enough to remind me who I was.

'Why couldn't I be stronger?'

Had I made myself so fragile? Had some habit or poor choice of mine turned my being into glass?

Or was it others made too hard? Was it others who were made wrong that they didn't break when their faces were shoved into the muck of humanity's worse? Or that they handled hardships so poorly?