What Remains

Chapter 22

Change
Between two worlds

When I was younger, I used to think people would be reincarnated into animals or bugs. My grandma's favourite animal was a cat, and a few days after she died, a tabby showed up at my front door. Now, with my chin resting on my palm, I'm staring through the window at a butterfly.
May loved butterflies. We went to a flower conservatory once, and it had a butterfly section; she stood there, just watching them with her white journal in hand. We teased her then, but now I find it nostalgic.
The butterfly is black and yellow. A black swallowtail. Not her favourite.
She loved the monarch butterflies— there was a poster in her room of one. I also drew her a picture of one of those, but she probably threw it away.
The butterfly flutters a little, almost hopping off the sill. I don't move. I just keep my eyes trained to it like a cat watching a mouse. I feel like it knows I'm watching, and yet, the bug is sort of staring back.
Yesterday was a bad day. I had an episode, and I saw all of them. I saw May, and I saw my dad.. just, everyone. I could feel their nails scratching at my skin, etching their cries into my mind endlessly, incessantly. I cried and cried until Kenny found me curled up on the floor. They didn't stop. They kept speaking to me, telling me how terrible and how selfish I am. Echoing threats and screams. Even now they ring in my head. A void. Never fulfilled, never satisfied.
Change is so peculiar. Reincarnation most of all— from one species to the next. I wonder if it's infinite, like you just keep going and going on as whatever the world throws at you until the sun explodes. When I die, I don't really want to come back. You forget everything when you do. I don't want to forget this life, or the people I have met. Now that I'm older, and know more, I don't think much comes after death. Of course, I don't believe it's a void of nothing. What I think is that it's like an old home movie; your memories playing over and over. It's like you're sitting in front of a TV screen. I've never believed in heaven. I believe in hell— or something of it. I think that the people who have truly done terrible things are sent elsewhere. Maybe hell is reincarnation; sending those terrible people to retry over and over until they've finally learned. I figure their old habits would stick somehow. But with heaven, I think it's just something to scare people into submission— bribery.
The butterfly beats its wings and parts from the window. I see it fly on for a bit until it's so small it's indiscernible from the outside world. I sigh, and give a prolonged blink. A sort of empty feeling takes hold, and swallows me whole. I don't feel sad. I feel more like when someone trails off a sentence— you expect more, but it all just falls flat. My arms and head fall lower, resting on the windowsill like a kid with their head on a desk. My head tilts, and my eyes shut.

I wake up when the door opens behind me. I know it's Kenny. I don't open my eyes or anything, I'm still tired.. I just want to sleep. After a tentative pause, I feel his hand lightly press on my shoulder, probably checking if I'm awake. He doesn't shake me though. After Kenny figures I'm napping, I feel his hand trail to my middle-back, and the other under my legs. I'm lifted up, so I sort of fall limp in his arms. I'm almost hugging myself, and my head is leaning against his shoulder. Kenny takes a few steps, then oh-so-lightly I am placed on my bed. The blanket is dragged out from under my body, and afterwards gets tucked over me. His hands move away, but I find myself hesitant to let him go.
I don't want to be alone.
Please, god, don't leave me alone.
I reach out and grip his wrist. It scares him. He jolts, and I hear the floor creak as he takes a step back towards me.
I don't open my eyes or turn around. My mouth falls open, "Please stay." I whisper. I feel oddly... vulnerable.
After a quiet moment I hear a sort of dragging noise, so I figure he brought a chair. He guides my hand back to myself, trying to get me to let go. I don't. I turn and I reel his arm in. I need to be sure he's real. I need to know he's not a living lie. Kenny doesn't move; he stills, supposedly thinking of what to do.
After a second, he shifts closer. "Are you alright?" He asks quietly. He sounds a little shy, but it's probably more hesitance over anything.
I nod lightly in reply. I'm not sad. I don't think I am.
Kenny pauses. "..Is this about yesterday?"
"I don't want to be alone." I reply in a whisper.
"You're not alone." Kenny answers softly. I feel him shift.
My eyes clench tighter for a moment. I want to stop myself from speaking more but I can't. "Don't leave me like they did." Words spill from my mouth, and I wish I had soap.
I feel air hit my face as Kenny sways to readjust his posture, "I won't. I'm not going anywhere." There's silence as he thinks. "Did they tell you I would?"
I grimace.
"Don't listen to them." His voice gets a little closer as he supposedly lowers his head closer to mine. "I'm not going to leave you." My lips draw into a thin line as he pauses again. "Can you open your eyes?" He whispers. I do, and I look up at him. He's staring down at me so fondly, and so sincerely. "I swear, no matter what happens, I will protect you." Kenny says it like it's hard to muster, "I made a promise that I would take care of you." His face falls just the slightest bit closer to mine. I see his eyebrows falter almost sadly. "Those bloody things— those.. hallucinations are not real. They will never be— you need to stop acting like they are. They have no power over you."
"I—"
"You're stronger than what you're giving yourself credit for." Kenny cuts me off, and he shakes his head.
Where did I hear that before?
There's a short silence before I speak. "How can you live with yourself?" My lip quivers. I feel a little cold despite the blanket wrapped around me.
Kenny sighs, and his eyes close for a moment. "If I hadn't done anything, my own family would have eventually killed me." His head hangs. "I saved my sisters.. I can live with that." I understand. He basically gave his life for theirs, because the second he's caught, he's done. Kenny doesn't get a second chance like we do; I can be excused, and his sisters never did anything. But him? He's fucked. Everyday is a risk, even without putting himself out there. He killed the other people in his family to clear a path for Sydney and Jamie, so their cycle can end.
Kenny knows his cycle will never end; he knows he's dug himself a pit too far down to stop now.
"Do you think you're a good person?" I ask in a hoarse voice.
Kenny is unnaturally still; I can hardly tell if he's actually breathing. "No." He gives another prolonged blink. "I did a good thing, in one sense, but I am not a good person."
"Then that applies to me too." I release his arm and sit up, and he glances at me as I do. I hug my elbows to my stomach, "I didn't even do a 'good thing'." My chest feels tight. I'm trapped, and I guess that's okay.
If I can feel comfortable, then maybe I'm not really trapped at all.
"It feels a little better when you're here." I draw a guilty smile out on my lips, "In the long run, what does all of this matter anyway?" God, I'm trying to sugarcoat it. I just don't want him to feel doubtful of my words.
Kenny doesn't respond after a while, so I decide to lay back down. I am facing away from him. Not out of spite or anything, I'm just embarrassed; I wish I just let him go in the first place. I curl into myself, still hugging either of my elbows. Slowly, I start to feel warm again. The tightness in my chest releases, and it feels like I can finally breathe again.
I hate how Kenny tries to make me seem like a saint sometimes. I am a murderer. I am no better than him, and I think that in reality, he knows. That's probably why he didn't respond. I just wish he'd admit that much and spare me from the thinking and the wallowing. If I could go back and tell myself one thing, it'd be to not dwell on the thought that I could still be good.
Time. If only I had more time, could I have changed the outcome? If I could think things through correctly, would I be happier?
Would they all be alive?
"If you want me to call you a murderer, then I'll do just that," Kenny starts. I feel his weight bend the mattress behind my back. "Though it will not change what either of us have done." He gives a drawn sigh, "This is not the end of the world."