Second Fate

12

He nodded, while his eyebrows moved together and separated again. It was obvious that he was fishing for words, for how to phrase his story, so I didn't press him.

Finally, he took a breath and started speaking. "With Kenna, it was different to what you'd expect from fate. We always knew that we were, ever since we met at fourteen, but we never ... we weren't dating as per definition. No rules, no promises. I don't think she wanted to hurt me with that, she just couldn't do it."

Which meant they hadn't even been a couple, I recognized with slight surprise. Until now, I'd thought that fate would bring people together with a force that they couldn't fight back against. At least I'd felt pretty helpless during the last weeks.

"She ran off a lot, ever since she'd been a kid. It started long before we met, and it got worse with age. Maybe she felt trapped by her family, but she never asked me to take her away. Instead, she would come to me whenever one of her moods hit and she would use me as a hiding place for a while. After that, she'd disappear again, and no one would see her for days or even weeks. She would come back with strange tattoos, talking of people I had never heard of. Sometimes she looked like she'd been starving for weeks without any sleep." He took a sudden break as if he'd decided not to go into more detail at this point. I waited with bated breath, until he continued: "At some point I started to get in her way and ask where she was off to. I tried to join her too, but she wasn't interested."

Before my eyes, a young Vine took on form, maybe seventeen, sitting on the hard bed in his room and arguing with Kenna. She was faceless but I could hear irritated shouts and slamming doors in my head. They were accompanied by strong, strained silences and weeks of waiting with bated breath.

"You must've felt so helpless", I murmured, as I caught his restless gaze.

He blinked but didn't comment on that. Instead, he went on to explain, "Once she was acting strange, more erratic than usual, so I tried to question her when she wanted to leave. I must've annoyed her, so she got me this." His fingers flew up to the frazzled border of his scar. "I learned my lesson that night. The next time, I let her leave without a word – and no one saw her again after that."

I was speechless, so I just stared at him; at his face and at the deep scar which crossed his entire face. How could someone do that to someone they loved?

"She just left", I said, sounding a little more choked than I'd anticipated. There was no big mistake which should weigh on his shoulders; no fight that had gone ugly and scared her away; just a girl who'd hurt and abandoned him.

"She died a couple of weeks after she'd left", he said in a suspiciously monotone voice, "and I know for certain, because it felt like someone had cut out a part of myself with a glowing knife."

"That's terrible, Vine. Everything that you went through. You were way too young to deal with that." I didn't believe for one second, that someone who was sound of mind could do these things, so I gave Kenna the benefit of the doubt and kept myself from cussing her out. She must've had her own issues – which might explain, but never excuse what she did to Vine. "But why do you feel so guilty about it?"

"If I'd been there for her more –"

"–then you'd have more scars, you know that", I fell into his justification. It made no sense to beat himself up about doing what had undeniably been his best.

The expression on his face was hard to describe but it felt like a blow to the guts. Slowly, I leaned against his forehead with mine. His skin was unusually hot, warmer than that of a human, but I didn't really register any of that.

Kenna was still playing in my head as she sliced his face, over and over again, in my thoughts.

It made me sick.