Chapter Fourteen - Part Three

Archie Parthenia

I dreamt of endless rose fields and forests of bleak leaves. I walked aimlessly as I took in my surroundings with each light step. The field was a bounty of rose petals fluttering in the wind, dancing their waltz to the beat of nature. On the outskirts were tree barks covered in thick green leaves, all waving with the wind. I spun around, carefree as if I was in a world of my own, free of my burdens, free of my life.

Then the floor turned red, and the trees morphed into lab walls. I saw green tanks and broken tables, with a single untouched diary floating mid-air. It was the same one that cursed the entire night, everything had gone south since its discovery. I tried to walk forward and rip it page from page but found my legs glued to the floor. I looked down and my heart stilled.

Down lying next to me was Advika. Her thick black hair was strewn on the floor mixing with the blood. Her face was soulless, her dark skin was tattered in bruises and her body was positioned in imperfect angles. I felt the bile rise up my throat, and soon the body changed into Helen, then Yudai, then Medina, then Irene.

I fought to scream, to shout, to let out any noise but my throat was dry and quiet. I looked away and the image transformed again. I was standing at the top of a building, not too high but high enough to gaze at other rooftops. I knew this scene, it was my neighbourhood, it was the place I'd stargaze with my mother back when she was alive and I was young enough to still count to ten on my fingers. It all felt so far back like I was levitating watching from afar. Detached.

Then I was standing in our apartment building in Grim, surrounded by the team as a memory played, the first true event to act out in this entire series of randomized torment. The group huddled around speaking incoherently, but I didn't need to hear them to know what they were saying, I was there after all when it happened in the first place.

I swear to protect Irene with my life.

It was an oath we'd agreed upon behind her back; she was alive and we weren't. It made perfect sense at the time.

I wanted to so badly reach out to Medina, who sat idly on the couch determined. I wanted one last look before the memory faded. I needed to see him one last time.

Then I was awake, my arms being held down by Irene as I shot up, drenched in sweat. Irene's eyes were wide with worry. I was breathing hard and heavy.

This time it was her turn to calm me down, she rushed to hold me close as I ran a hand through my hair, gingerly leaning into her touch. She hushed for me to stay quiet as my chest tightened. "It's okay, you're okay."

It wasn't the first time I'd had a nightmare, but it was the first time I'd been comforted from having one.

"You're okay, I'm here."

I caved, my cries quiet except for my occasional sniffles as I held onto Irene. Thoughts crashed down on me like a waterfall as if my dam walls had broken.

It was my fault the team was exposed to such danger, it was my fault Medina was dead.

It was my fault.

It was my fault.

It was my fault.

"It's not your fault."

I bawled at the words, my heart emptying its contents through my tears as I stained Irene's shirt with them. I pulled at her shirt to try and bring her closer, breathe her in, and steady myself. The scent of mint calmed my mind and the brush of a hand in my hair calmed my heart.

"You're okay," She instructed.

"I'm okay," I repeated.

"You're okay."

"I'm okay."

We continued this volley of simple affirmations until my eyes could barely stay up. My stomach had calmed down and my breathing stilled, but Irene still played with my hair, still holding me in her arms.

Then I was made aware of how close we were, and how intimate the situation had felt. A lazy blush crept up my neck and onto my face and I hoped Irene didn't see it. Our clothes were thin and there wasn't any space between us. If Irene was uncomfortable, she didn't show it. Instead, she simply lay there and ran her fingers through my short auburn locks.

She made idle conversation, "You have blonde roots."

I hummed in response, too dazed to answer.

"You know you're really pretty." Irene continued to pluck at my head, "I can see you with blonde hair, you'd look gorgeous."

"Really?" I tilted my head and furrowed my brows as I looked at Irene who just smiled at me.

"Yeah, you'd look so badass."

I pondered over her words a little. Maybe I was due a makeover.

I lifted myself to sit next to her, breaking away from our way too friendly moment. I didn't mind it, the closeness and intimacy. In fact, I longed for it, for someone to hold me without judgement. To let myself be stripped of titles, stripped of pasts, just to leave me be. And I could do that with one person and one person only.

"Irene," I started, "you make me proud you know that right?"

Irene paused before snuggling into me. I could get used to this.

"Thank you," she whispered, "for everything."

I looked down at our intertwined hands and found my stomach dancing and rolling with happiness, the glee extended to my face and I could feel my whole body burn with it, tingling all over.

"Thank you," I say, "for everything."

We spent the rest of the night in silence, coming in and out of sleep next to each other, reminded we weren't alone. Although grieving, I slept calmer than I had any other night.