𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄.

CHAPTER NINE: REALMS OF OBLIVION.

As Elara's consciousness emerged from the shadowy realms of oblivion, her eyelids fluttered open like fragile wings, revealing a world that she had momentarily escaped. In that fleeting moment of nothingness, time had become an abstract concept, a realization that she existed at the intersection of being both nowhere and everywhere simultaneously. Yet, as the haze of nothingness dissipated, replaced by the tangible reality of her surroundings, Elara confronted an unexpected truth—she was alive.

No. No. Fuck.

How could this be? All of that effort was for nothing, then. She had only endured the pain because she thought it would pay off in the end, but now she was back at square one. Elara sank her head back into the pillow that caught her, and as she looked down, she realized she was in the hospital. She hated the material of the sheets. It was too scratchy compared to her own, unnatural. Though she didn't think she would ever feel her sheets or anything of hers again. She thought she was free from the material world, but she wasn't. It felt like she was more chained to this place than ever.

"Son of a bitch," she mumbled aloud, her thoughts louder than she had intended. She winced at the sound of her own voice, even as she thought it was barely above a whisper. How did she get here? Who had even bothered to check in on her to find her in time?

The beating of her heart, once feeble and faltering, now resounded with newfound strength. Despite being mentally worn, she felt oddly refreshed, but that didn't make her feel any better. Her blood rushed quickly, in a mix of adrenaline and anxiety. Some might have relished the fact that they could feel this way - but she didn't. She felt selfish. She knew how many people would do anything to have their life back, but she didn't want to be one of them. She didn't want anything.

She just wanted the pain to end.

The air, once stale with the stench of despair, filled her lungs with the unmistakable scent of life. It felt like her own breathing was something she had to get used to again, and she didn't know if she had what it took to endure any longer. She didn't know how much she could take. All she wanted was to die, but apparently even that was too much to ask for. It seemed like the more you wanted it, the less it was likely to happen. Maybe she was being a brat - no, she was absolutely certain she was being one, but she couldn't even bring herself to care. Didn't the universe understand she didn't want to be here anymore? That she hated being in her own skin?

Elara's gaze, now fixated on the unfamiliar ceiling above, felt like she was staring into the void. She just wanted to disappear. She hadn't expected to live past the ordeal, and now the idea of starting over with her life loomed over her. The unexpected continuation of her existence became a harsh mirror reflecting the echoes of her perceived shortcomings. She couldn't even kill herself right. She was a failure.

Once again, Shelby was better than her, even if it was a completely fucked thing to be better at. She wondered if her sister was watching from the other side, if she was scoffing at her or pitying her. More likely than not, there was nothing at all. She couldn't remember anything while she was unconscious, and if there had been such a thing as an afterlife, she couldn't recall anything about it. She didn't see any light. She didn't have any warm or fuzzy feelings. It was basically nothing, and that was her worst fear.

Did that mean her family simply didn't exist anymore? Had they vanished into nothingness? Was she going to do the same? She wouldn't have been so upset if she had, because how could she tell? But the idea of losing them to that darkness was terrifying. She couldn't fathom that everyone she loved was simply gone now. It had to mean more than that. Life had to mean something, didn't it? But the idea of solving the meaning to it was still as much of a riddle as it had been before, and she couldn't muster the will to try.