Elira

Movie Night

    Elira closed the door behind him, tears immediately streaming down his cheeks. Fuck. How could he be so stupid? So rude, so mean, so unappreciative, so- god fucking damn it! These people had been helping him and he had the audacity to go off on them for trying to help? Fucking shit. He collapsed against the door once he heard them leave, tugging at his hair. Where was Flish? Where was she? He needed her, he needed her now more than ever, where was she?

    He wanted to scream, he'd done nothing but get in the way and cause trouble from the moment he met Amber. Alls he did was cause problems and drive people away, he didn't deserve them, he didn't deserve friends, he didn't deserve to l-

    A sharp metallic taste flooded his mouth. He'd chewed his lip open. Elira forced herself to stand, she made her way to the center of the room where the healing tank- the Cannula- laid. It wasn't like one she'd seen before, so she tried to distract herself by focusing on that. Her movements were ragged and imbalanced as she approached it. It was spread horizontally across the floor, like a bed. It was a far cry from the ones she was used to the ones that stood vertically with the tubes and wires and-

    She clenched her fist, drawing blood. She was terrible at distracting herself. Most Cannulas were cylindrical and filled with liquids safer than ectoplasm like bliant or asa that are typically used for healing. Elira sat down next to it as it booted up.

    Why did he do that? Why did he yell at them? They were only trying to help. They were only being nice. They were only trying to comfort him. Why was he always so rude, so stupid, so-so-

    Why couldn't he be normal? Why couldn't he be like everyone else? It was no wonder he'd been caught. No wonder he was in trouble time and time again. No wonder he kept nearly dying. He deserved to d-

    He climbed into the Cannula, not bothering to hook up the gear or mask. He curled into a ball as the chamber filled, hot tears gone, leaving wet tracks in their place before the liquid washed it all away. His eyes stung as the liquid went above his head. It was finished filling. He squeezed his eyes shut, clawing at his arms, wishing, hoping he could be better. That he was a good person. He knew he wasn't. His vision began to fade and he ran out of breathe. He hadn't checked to see if it was a healing liquid, a sleeping liquid or what it's function was in general. He could feel it sinking in, filling his pores and veins and organs.

    He wasn't a bitter person, or, he didn't used to be. He wasn't always angry and hateful and full of spite. But as he felt his body shutting down, giving in he couldn't help but give the world one last thing to remember. His final act. So, he opened his mouth and screamed. As loud as he could. He screamed, and screamed, and screamed until he couldn't anymore. Then, he was gone.

...

    -going.

    Sorry.

    Sorry.

    I-

    I don't want this. I don't want to be cursed. I don't want my fate to be inevitable. I don't want to hurt others. I don't want to hurt them. I don't want-

    Sorry.

    Sorry.

...

    Elira felt like he was floating. Everything had a soft, calm feeling to it. It wasn't warm, though. It wasn't the right calm. It wasn't right.

    He snapped his eyes open to see that horrible shade of baby blue. Ectoplasm.

    He was cold. So cold.

    He could almost see it. The Hand. In the distance of the never ending blue. It was reaching for him, for him, at him. It was going to kill him.

Panic shot through his body but he couldn't do anything, he couldn't move, he couldn't think. The calm was smothering. It reached through him, through his head. His life flashed before him.