𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 | c. grimes

08. "those who fear a loss"

chapter eight
"THOSE WHO FEAR A LOSS"

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"JANE?"

The room is dark, showcasing a rather eerie side of the prison Blaire hasn't been forced to face for a few weeks now. Under a very similar circumstance, the teenage girl discovered a mutilated rabbit the last time she walked in the dark and explored the place she was forced to call home.

But the life she had a few weeks ago was completely different in comparison to how she chose to survive now. Beside her stood Carl, the friend whom she had buried Patrick with a mere hour ago — when the sun still lingered on the horizon, illuminating in enchanting shades that resembled summer. Red, orange, yellow. Colors that somehow made Blaire feel hopeful, despite the fact that her life had spiraled downhill in a single day. The day she lost Patrick, of course.

Nightfall was beautiful, but the emptiness proved itself to be rather suffocating, making the teenage girl feel isolated from the rest of the world even when her friend was standing next to her. She would never know when another tragedy would strike again. When death and despair would follow her and remind Blaire that grief always lingers in the back of her mind. An emotion that seems to never truly leave the girl alone. Something she will be stuck with for a very long time — if not forever.

Finding the quarantine zone was difficult enough in the pitch blackness. Now that most of the people who helped the community were sick, the sanctuary the Sheilds girl moved into seems abandoned, forgotten by the world. Like her and Carl are the only people left inside. It's not a pleasant feeling, causing dread to wash over the teenager as she continued to roam through the hallway, searching for her sister.

Truth be told, now was not the right time to ponder over whether she was waking up the sleeping kids or not. It wasn't something that bothered her, knowing that a few children would be disturbed from their dreams for a few minutes. Not when she was searching for Jane, no. The girl was above everything else in Blaire's mind. The last family she had left and the only person who could begin to understand her. Who can see her despite the walls she built up?

The room they stayed in seemed empty, even though both Blaire and Carl were aware that if they were able to see clearly behind the pitch blackness they might be able to notice the dozen people sleeping on mattresses and waiting for the infected members of the prison to be cured from their illness so they can return to their old lives. In a way, the girl almost feels sympathetic towards them — for having hope that things can return to normal once the sickness is cured. Nothing will be normal again. Everyone must have realized it by now, most are just in denial.

The silence the pair was engulfed in comes to an abrupt stop when echoes of coughs fill the room, startling both of them. Someone is struggling, gagging, and forcing themselves to be quiet as their lungs fill up with blood. A certain tension fills the air as they hear the person's cries for help, manifested by the numerous times their tone was dry and hoarse — like they were begging for everything to stop.

"Who is that?" Carl asks, whispering even though it sounds more like a yell in the midst of the quietness. Blaire turns around and faces the confused boy, the action futile as the darkness was too strong for her to witness anything more than a shadow, contouring his body as they walked closer to the coughing stranger.

Coming to terms with the fact that someone inside of the quarantine zone was infected with the strange illness wasn't exactly simple. Worries flash through Blaire's mind as she contemplates the possibility of Jane catching the sickness and being forced to be separated from her sibling. That wasn't a situation the older girl liked to think about — not when she had just been separated from Patrick for all eternity due to the same infection she was currently concerned about.