Antumbra - A Lost Cause

The Weak Shall Inherit - Chapter Twenty Three

It had been almost a week since the incident, and Arva still felt like the scars were fresh. Not hers of course, she'd healed quite well, with only a slight stiffness lingering if she really tried stretching her right arm. The scars in the Lows, however, remained. Once investigations had been concluded, the dead collected and buried, the authorities had simply left everything where it was. It was up to the Hybrids living there to repair what they could. Even the cenotaph, a beacon of sorts for the neighbourhood, was devastated after standing for untold generations. The crumbled remains of the statue that held the Argonaut were left strewn about, as were the torn up wads of Earth where the brief melee had happened between it and the attacker. Arva tried to avoid the area if she could, but it was on her way to work, and so every morning she had to walk past it and be reminded of what she did. Luckily Elia's mother had agreed to pick Arva up at night, happy to help as always, and at Arva's request they took a slightly longer route home, away from the damage. Elia's mother, Patricia, understood completely, and was especially grateful after she'd learned that Arva saved her daughter's life. Though Arva had pleaded with Elia to falsify the entire affair, Elia had opted for an edited recounting of the incident wherein Arva had successfully led the attacking Argonaut away until the mysterious defender showed up. Since her, Arva, and Travis were the only witnesses to Arva's inexplicable piloting, the cover story that was making the rounds was that another Argonaut, or 'divine,' had fallen from the sky to protect the people and defeat the false icon that went on a rampage. Arva didn't like that story, it preyed on people's ignorance and faith, using something they revered and loved to feed them lies. It felt wrong, yet most had accepted it. People loved God, and loved the idea of divine intervention. Even if Arva could tell everyone, she wasn't sure how many would believe her. As Arva relaxed in the passenger seat, she could see just down the street where the cenotaph was, and just glimpse the church. It was overflowing with people gathered outside, praying, preaching, and looking for answers. Arva hoped, for their sake, that the real God was listening.

"You doin' alright, Arv?" Patricia asked her without taking her eyes off the road.

"I'm fine," Arva said as houses quickly blocked the view as they continued driving.

"I know, it's freaky," Patricia waved a hook-shaped hand around, "all this insanity. People are looking for a reason behind it all, I guess." Arva nodded. Patricia was always straight with Arva, talking to her like an adult, and was clearly the source of her daughter's blunt honesty.

"I wonder if it'd be better if there wasn't one," mused Arva. The truth weighed heavy on her, and though she'd been making it by, taking things day-by-day, she was often waking up tired and unmotivated. She'd maintained focus at work, but her sleep was restless from night terrors, and it left her mind feeling vacant and the days feeling long. Her dreams were nightmarish, distorted visions of that day, each time growing more graphic and horrifying. She'd chosen to sleep on the couch last night, as Hannah was complaining that Arva made too much noise when she slept, though now she had a cramp in her neck that wouldn't go away.

"You've been really quiet," Patricia said, "you sure you're doing alright, hon?"

"I'm fine," Arva repeated the lie. She was far from alright, but had no idea what to do to change it. Beyond the recurring torment at night, she was experiencing a strange longing for something she couldn't describe. Ever since that day she almost felt like part of her was missing, like she was exposed, incomplete. It was a difficult feeling to shake, and she wore her cardigan more often, even if it was warm, like she had to cover up. They pulled up in front of her house, and Arva stepped out of the car.

"Thank you so much, again," Arva smiled to Elia's mother, "I really appreciate this."

"Don't mention it," Patricia waved her concerns away, "I'm quite happy to help."