v e n t (+16)

(1)

Smoke surrounded the walls like a thick fog. It blurred the vision until all there was to see were shapes of the objects that barely kept their color. The accumulated and condensed scent of burning out tobacco was very hard to stand to someone who wasn't used to it. The room was silent with an exception of unhidden exhalations hearable every few seconds. They belonged to a subtle being, drowning in this madness, heaviness, darkness, and enjoying it as the taste of that addicting drug tingled her throat. She felt something other than nothing or pain and she was willing to lose her mind for it. One cigarette after another, she behaved like a machine forced to poison itself constantly by some algorithm that is questionable within it's purpose. Suddenly this room became the only world she was open to and the only world she wanted to be in.

Her eyes showed no emotions, they made her look as if she was out of this reality. She was staring at the glass wall mindlessly. It was difficult for her to see it clearly, not to mention seeing what was behind it. The view didn't matter to her. Nothing did anymore. She kept moving the cigarette in and out her mouth constantly. Her oversized red T-shirt with green sleeves covered up her torso as well as black underwear. She only wore the lower part of it. She was sitting on the bed which looked like a hot mess. Her hair, usually tied up in a neat ponytail, were all loose with tiny strings sticking out. Looking closer, one could notice feathers there as well. They were coming from inside of the pillows. Her feet were bare.

It was early in the morning, that's what she knew for sure. That scene got destroyed by room door suddenly sliding open. Some of the smoke flew out and silence was interrupted by an immediate coughing attack. Myth behaved as if she didn't notice nor hear anything. Newcomer ran towards the closest window, covering his nose and mouth with his green glove as he kept coughing painfully and opened it rapidly. Then he turned on ventilation and grabbed the girl to get her out of the room as fast as possible. He ran out with her and started breathing deeply with fresh air as they both were heading towards the Tower's roof. He was leading her softly with one hand on her back. He sometimes looked back at the room with a worry painted on his face.

Once he had calmed down a little, he looked at the girl again. She was staring down at her feet, emotionless with a small piece of her almost fully burned out cigarette in between her pointing and middle finger. The man stopped for a moment and sighed. He got too carried away with the roof idea. Myth wasn't dressed up appropriately to the weather outside. It was way too cold for her to be out after sitting in his comfortably warm room. He dragged the palm of his hand across his tired face, trying to think of anything to tell her. The truth was that all that there was to say has already been said. Further explanations didn't seem to do much. But even though there was barely any hope for Myth's recovery, the leader tried. He tried having those conversations with her, wishing for her to say something more than what has already been said enough times to memorise all the answers.

- Why are you doing this? - he sat on the couch and looked up at her small, weak being as he put his hands together.

The girl carefully raised her sight at the man.

- I'm tired of this - she muttered silently.

- Of what exactly?

- Questions.

- Is that why you're poisoning both of us every single day even though I ask you not to? - he started showing off irritation.

- I want to die - she looked down again as if she attempted to shrink.

- I live in that room, Michelle. Are you trying to kill me, too? - he pointed his finger in that direction and then at himself.

- I don't feel anything - she remained in the same position.