DESOLATION

15, Stace - Avoidance

How many times have I asked Lauren today to be nicer to Steven, too many times, too many to count. My head is in my hands and I can feel the familiar sense of regret pooling in my stomach, sinking me down like a rock in water. I am ashamed of myself. I always am. I cannot bring myself to look at him and the bruise that has formed on his face from Lauren slapping him. It had not been my intention to let a thing like that happen.

    Her and Quincy have been back and forth for about twenty minutes now, I haven't said a word behind it. I'm bouncing my leg and counting numbers in my head to calm my nerves. But it isn't working, none of it's working.

Why isnt it fucking working.

    My breathing has grown uneven, shakey. I suck in breath after breath but my lungs can't seem to hold the air. I can't seem to hold the air. Everything feels wrong, unjust. She slapped him for no reason, what's wrong with her?  Why couldn't I stop her? It's my job to stop things like this from happening but I couldn't stop it. Why am I still the mediator if I cannot meditate?

    This isn't right, None of this is right. The yelling is getting quieter, like I cannot hear it, it is far away, I am far away. What kind of mediator am I if I cannot meditate? Who am I if I cannot do my job? My part. Everyone else in my village hadn't had problems like these, not this bad. I'm one of the only anxious mediators of the Dark Oak biome.

Everyone else was so sure, so calm. Me? I got so nervous once I threw up when someone was fighting, I can't deal with it.  I never wanted to be a mediator. I never will want to be a mediator. I am no good at it. I fail at it all the time, endlessly. My voice dies in my throat all the time.

Their voices come back through to me, along with the sounds of Tesia trying to mediate. They all know I cannot do my job properly. Theyve all been aware since the day they met me. "Quincy, he cannot stay here. He's a danger, as I've said, that, that thing cannot stay." Lauren's voice is soft, pleading. I can hear his scoff.

    "Lauren, he won't do anything to any of us, he wont hurt us." He sounds like a pouting child, one that is being told he cannot have his favorite toy. Quincy is like that though, like a child despite being nineteen, both of them are nineteen, Quincy and Lauren, a year older than me. I am the youngest here.

    "Quincy, he's infected what do you mean he won't attack us, you can't be so sure he won't!" Wilo chimes in after that, her voice firm. "Guy's, stop fighting, you do this almost everyday. You need to think about how this is affecting the group." There's a edge to her voice, a warning. I can hear Lauren scoff, then I watch as she trudges past my room down to her own.

    Wilo walks over into my room after that, a new stain on her hijab, probably from making potions, sits on her neck part of her hijab. She comes up to me and places a gentle hand on my shoulder, gently she rubs soothing circles there. I feel calmer.

    "You alright Stace?" She says softly, crouching down to look me in the eye, looking up at me with gentle worried eyes of coffee brown. "I'll be okay, its just... Lauren talks about Steven like he's her, no our, adversary, like hes our enemy." I mumble, "She berates anybody who goes against her view on him or actually gives reasonable details as to why he is'nt a threat. She's exorbitant about it..." she nods along with my words to show she's listening.

I've never thought about it until now but Wilo is probably my favorite person in the group, shes nice, sweet, gentle but firm when needed. She doesn't take anyones crap, I like that about her.

I wish I could be like her.

Almost fearless.