Fragmented Morality

Ch. 6

When it came time to... clean up the area, it was almost as though we were going through it all again. Everyone was putting in an effort to bury our people and burn the rest, but it all just felt unreal.

So many good people had died in such a brutal way and all that was left to do was to put them in the ground and move on. But how was that even possible? How could we just pretend that our numbers weren't just halved within the hour? More specifically, how could I pretend like this wasn't my fault. How could I ignore the fact that I had gotten Amy killed?

I didn't like her the way it seemed she liked me... but she cared so much about me sometimes that it wouldn't have made sense if I didn't feel grief towards losing her. It all just made me regret more that I hadn't appreciated the interactions I was a part of up until this point. However, I forced myself to not regret anything more than that. If I began regretting not spending more time with others, then that would mean I regretted protecting my family.

I could never do that.

Every little thing I did was to keep my mum and sister from being hurt, and every little thing I would do from this point forward would be for them too. I didn't care whether my actions would eat away at me, I didn't care whether I'd be able to live with myself afterwards or not, I was not going to regret a single moment of surviving for my family.

●

When the sun rose high in the sky, it didn't feel like it was a new day at all. It felt like the continuation of a nightmare, only this time we could see clearly the damage that had struck us. Somehow the lighter the day, the darker our situation and the worse the nightmare became as we planned our next move.

Sophia and I didn't partake in helping very much that morning. I found myself struggling worse than I was the day before and I didn't want her to see the process of laying our people to rest. So instead, we sat off to the side, out of the clear view of the mess.

"Chris," Sophia whispered.

We were sitting in the dirt, away from the rest of the group, but not too close to the fringe of the trees. We were facing each other, our legs crossed, knees touching. At the time, I knew I was going to need help standing again, but that was a problem for future me to deal with.

"Hm?" I hummed in exhaustion, resting my head against my palm, my elbow on my knee.

"I... I'm scared."

I blinked my eyes open, taking in the sight of Sophia's beautiful strawberry-blond hair as she kept her head low to the ground. Probably hesitant to speak her feelings out loud. How I wish I had hair like hers, maybe then people would stop mistaking me for Ed's son. Instead, I inherited my much hated black hair from a stranger who was no more my father than Ed. Every time someone referred to Ed as anything more than my stepfather, it made me cringe to the point of wanting to rip my hair out.

"It's okay to be scared," I replied softly, reaching out to brush her hair to the side. "I'm scared too, I'm scared that I'll lose you..."

"Mum too?"

"Of course. I'm so scared, but that's okay because it means I love you and I'll do anything to make sure you're safe."

"I don't want this to happen again," She choked, tears filling her eyes as her shoulders began to tremble.

I was shocked. I wasn't very good at comforting people, no matter how many times I've had to, it just wasn't a skill I had ever acquired. But with my little sister crying in front of me after losing her father and seeing so many deaths, I knew I had to try.

"Soph, look at me," I said firmly, getting her to look at me more directly than before. "If this happens again and, for some reason, I am not there-"