WIRES

SIX

5 WEEKS AGO

You only get one chance at life.

One chance.

What I didn't understand — what my mind could not comprehend — is how you could take someone else's chance at it.

Mud Briar did much more than kill Trixie that day. He took possession of her body. He stripped her of every right she had to herself. She never got a choice. Her life was reduced to a sharp blade.

It seems times have changed, since only a couple weeks after, I found myself in the same position Mud Briar was. Someone's fate was in my hands, my body held every intention to end their life.

Was I really different from Mud Briar? I viewed him as a horrible person, a monster. But if I were to do the same actions as him, was I too a monster?

My eyes were on Pinkie, who sat in front of me trembling. Her hands could barely hold the paper she found off the countertop.

These past two weeks had been life-changing. But no words could describe what Pinkie felt right now. The scribbled marks on the torn parchment, the words embedded into her brain.

Once Pinkie had spotted the letter, she took it from the countertop shouting my name. I had been sitting on the couch scrolling through mindless websites. I hadn't even noticed the letter with Pinkie's name printed clearly on the top once I walked into the house.

I had been so tired I barely noticed.

"She left us," Pinkie whispered, her voice weak after we finished reading. She slowly put the paper down on the table in front of us. I continued to stay still, watching closely how she'd react. She sat there, letting the letter settle into her brain.

I desperately wished I could sneak into her mind, pulling out all her negative thoughts. I'd treat them with all the respect they needed, replanting each one carefully. She needed to be happy. I had to be there for her.

This kept pulsing in my mind. I knew I had to be there for her. Yet, I couldn't think of a single word to say.

"I'm sorry," I whispered after several moments. She looked at me, struggling to breathe. A series of hiccups escaped her as her shaky arms reached out for a hug. While we embraced, my shoulders were soaked in sorrowful tears.

"Why," she took a breath, struggling to speak. "Why-" Sobs painted her once again, her tears captivated her.

God, I just wanted to save her.

We waited several minutes until she stopped crying and the room was silent. Her head lay on my shoulder, I ran my hands through her hair. We both sat on the ground, her whole body leaning against mine.

"Why do people keep leaving me?" she finally asked. "I don't understand. What do I keep doing wrong?"

"Nono," I said, almost instinctively. "It isn't you. It's this world. This whole fucking world."

"Sometimes I get the feeling you're going to leave too," her voice spoke, barely a whisper.

I leaned back from her hug to get a closer glimpse at her, I had done it so fast it looked as if I was pushing her away.