Hope Ur Ok

I Will Survive

After the incident in the park and her emotional conversation with Bucky, Mayia felt a deep sense of unease settle within her. She couldn't escape the feeling that her past was a relentless force, always lurking, waiting for the right moment to strike.

As they returned to the motel, Mayia's knuckles throbbed with pain, a constant reminder of her impulsive actions. She knew she needed to attend to her wounds, both physical and emotional, before they could continue their journey.

Once they were back in their room, Mayia locked herself in the small bathroom. She turned on the faucet, letting the water run until it was ice cold. She splashed her face, the shock of the cold water helping to clear her mind. She caught her reflection in the mirror and winced at the sight of her bruised face and bloodied knuckles.

Carefully, she began to clean the dried blood from her face, wincing as she touched her swollen nose. Her hands were shaking, a combination of residual adrenaline and a sense of shame for losing control. She knew that violence was not the answer, and yet, in that moment, it had been the only way she knew how to protect herself.

As she cleaned her wounds, her mind began to drift back to the memories of her time as Subject B-437. The pain and torment she had endured, the countless times she had been hurt and forced to hurt others, it all came rushing back. She couldn't escape the feeling that she was still a prisoner of her past, that HYDRA's hold on her was unbreakable.

"You can't wash away the blood on your hands, Mayia. No matter how hard you try."

Her inner voice taunted her, a reminder of the darkness that still lingered within her. Mayia knew that she couldn't let doubt and self-loathing consume her, but it was a constant battle to silence the voice that whispered her failures in her ear.

Once she had cleaned her face, Mayia turned her attention to her bruised knuckles. She knew she needed to ice them to reduce the swelling, but she didn't have any ice packs. Instead, she wrapped a towel around a bag of frozen vegetables and pressed it against her injured hands. The cold burned, but she welcomed the pain as a form of penance.

As she sat on the bathroom floor, tending to her wounds, Mayia couldn't help but feel like a broken puzzle, her pieces scattered and shattered. She longed for a way to put herself back together, to find a sense of wholeness and purpose. But it seemed that the path to redemption was filled with obstacles, both external and internal.

As the coldness of the makeshift ice pack seeped into her skin, Mayia made a silent vow to herself. She would confront her past, face her demons, and find a way to heal. She couldn't change the darkness that had defined her, but she could choose to step into the light and seek redemption, no matter how difficult the journey might be.

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The room was cloaked in darkness when Mayia awoke, her senses on high alert. She could hear faint, echoing footsteps approaching their motel room. Her heart raced, and she instinctively reached for the gun they had hidden under the mattress. Her past as Subject B-437 had taught her to always be prepared for danger.

She gently shook Bucky awake, whispering urgently, "Bucky, wake up. We have company."

His eyes snapped open, instantly alert. He didn't question her, knowing that she had a keen instinct for danger. He reached for his own weapon, a sense of urgency settling over them both.

The footsteps outside grew louder, more distinct, and Mayia could hear low voices. She recognized the sound of multiple people ascending the stairs. They were closing in fast.