inferno | 18+

II

"A man can die but once."
- William Shakespeare

ZAKARIA

It's fading. It's all fading. The colour. The sounds. I can feel my own sanity slipping through the holes of my fingers slowly. Everytime I try to stop it, it beats me to it. I am not insane. These four walls are my prison. I stare at them. I stare at them all day long. They removed the pages from my floor. The black cold floor. Four walls. One ceiling. One floor. One bed. One book shelf. No windows. White LED lights that go out at 8. One clock hanging on the wall.

I never saw her after that. I'm not sure how long it's been, or if she's coming back. I don't hear any voices anymore. I barely hear when the nurse slides the food under my door. I stare into the black bricks, with nothing on my mind, but her brown eyes. I told her if she came back I'd kill her, and I meant it. I'm not a killer. I said I'd do it with a smile on my lips, and I meant it. I'm not a killer.

The sound of a pair of heels on the floor makes my head swing to the door. I watch with a steady face as the door dares peek open, and a pair of long legs come to sight. I observe the frame that's slowly coming to life before my eyes, and smile when I see her again. She stands tall, her hair sat up in a ponytail I suppose. Her scent flares my nostrils, and the urge to widen my smile pulls at my lips.

She smells like every dark thought I've had.

"Welcome back," I greet, taking a seat on my bed. She inhales a sharp breath looking around in my little cell. As if she's trying her best to seem confident-put together-trying to prove that I don't have an effect on her.

"Your brother sent me, because he thought you'd listen to me," she says, her voice the sound of a thousand angels. My God I missed her. I lean back on my palms, letting my eyes stare her down. She's standing lean. Her back straight, the heels made for her. I'm sure my brother dressed her up.

"That so?" I ask, and I detect a gulp from her. The entertainment I didn't know I needed. She seems so nervous, as if her and I didn't share a joint-or tried to-right before everything went down.

"Happy birthday, Zak," she finally says and my eyes dart up to her brown ones. In my room, right across from my bed there is a wall with nothing on it but a mirror. A mirror I can't break. A mirror made for people that are crazy. I look at myself in the mirror. No emotion is detectable on my face. My eyes turn back to her, and she suddenly seems to be much more confident than she was before she congratulated me.

I get up from my bed, stalking toward her. "It's all a bit tragic, really, isn't it?" I press and she tilts her head a little, tip toeing on her heels trying her best to get as far away from me as possible, without actually moving. She's scared shitless, and I love it. Because when I wrap my hands around her neck, and squeeze the life out of her she'll see nothing but pure happiness in my eyes.

"How you were the one supposed to be in here, and I on the other side of that door."

Her breath hitches when I run my hand down her face, the urge to slap her burning in my veins. My brain is yelling at me. Slap her! Punch her! Spit on her! Torture her! Meanwhile my heart is telling me to apologise. Apologise for all the horrible shit I've put her through. The stuff I put my brother through.

But right now I am not Zakaria. Zakaria never got up from the bed. He never touched her face. He never thought about the things he did. Right now I am air. And air cannot hurt her. As long as I am air, she is safe. And as long as she is safe, I can stay alive knowing I didn't murder her. Knowing I haven't gone completely insane yet. Knowing I still have an ounce of humanity left.

Her eyes soften, and she brings her hand up to my face stroking her thumb against my cheek. "Let me in," she whispers. "It's me. Josie. Let me in, please Zakaria. We miss you," she continues, and I press my eyes shut letting the vocals of her voice itch my brain. "I miss you."

I let my eyes stay closed, imagining we're standing on a field. A field, where the grass is green, the sun warm and bright, white and yellow daisies decorating the grass. Just me and her, against the world.

"I love you."

I don't register the words. I don't think about the meaning those words have, coming from someone like me, going to someone like her. I don't think. Because air doesn't think.

"You have to let Dev help you," she tells me, disregarding what I just told her. Suddenly my eyes spring back open, and I retreat my hand from her face, before I do something that will justify my brother shooting me in the head. Worry flashes her eyes, and she reaches out for me again. As a reflex my hand wraps around hers stopping her from laying a finger on me. Letting go of hers, I choke on my laugh. I back up and look around in my cell.

My brother isn't a moron. He wouldn't let his girlfriend walk in here blind. He's watching me. "Oh, brother!" I yell out knowing he can hear and see everything I'm saying/doing at this very moment. "That was low, even for you!" I chuckle through the yelling. I turn my head toward Josie who's clinging to the wall, her hands wrapped around her stomach. I stop myself.

My breathing comes to a halt. My cheeks grow hot, with pure liquid emotion.

"You're pregnant," I say. The feeling that's taking over my body right now is unexplainable. I can't put it into words. Hurt? Anger? Happiness?

"You need to let her help you, Zak," she says again, her eyes brimming with tears. Why is she crying? I do not want her pity.

"I am going to be an uncle," I trail off, my eyes running down to her stomach. "You don't even know you're being protective over her do you? You think I would ever hurt my own niece?"

My eyes meet hers once again, and surprise is scattered across her face. "Who said it's a girl?" she questions and I shrug my shoulders, my eyes wandering off the mirror. He is watching me.

"I'm guessing. My brother always wanted a daughter. Said boys were too much to handle." Silence fills my cell, and then I realise she's given me an answer, without saying anything. "I am not a charity case, Josie," I spit, venom dripping from my voice. She almost flinches, and looks at me, her eyes once again filling with tears.

"I know Zak, trust me I know. But you need help. You need to let Devina help you it's for your own good-"

"I don't need help!" I yell cutting her off.

"You do! Fuck sake Zakaria, you need help! You tried to make me into your own Barbie! No sane person does that. If you didn't need help, then why are you sitting in here, letting your brain rot as the months pass along?!"

My eyes avert away from hers, and back to the mirror. He is watching me. I don't say anything for a long time, and alas I hear a sigh coming from her. The sound of her heels clicking against the tile makes my ears flutter. Just before she takes a step out of the door, I allow my breath to hitch causing her to halt in her steps.

"He's going to hurt you. He's going to kill you."

She doesn't turn around. Her shoulders don't deflate in disappointment. Her spine doesn't straighten in shock. All she does is turn her head toward me, her body still facing the exit.

"If you ever threaten to kill her again, I will come in here and slice you up, limb from limb."

She takes her leave, and I turn my head back at the mirror, smirking at whoever is watching me. Letting them know I will fucking break out of this shithole, if it's the last thing I do.