Concrete Jungle || Bad Omens || Noah Sebastian

Chapter nine

Noah gazed at Elise, her frail body contracting with each breath, as if every single inhalation was a battle that was slowly consuming her. Guilt crashed over him like a suffocating wave, growing stronger and more unbearable by the moment. He clasped his hands tightly, feeling the sting of untreated wounds, yet the physical pain paled in comparison to the torment devouring his soul.

“It’s my fault,” he murmured to himself, lacking the courage to voice it aloud.

It’s my fault, he repeated in his mind, watching Elise struggle against a pain that, somehow, he had convinced himself he had inflicted on her. He had been the one to make her eat more. He was the one who, in his desperation, had decided to give her that tainted food, hoping to keep her alive a little longer. Maybe if she had eaten less… maybe if he had been more cautious… she wouldn’t have deteriorated so quickly.

He knew it wasn’t rational, that it wasn’t directly his fault, yet that thought never left him. The food had been their only option, the sole thing to cling to in that limbo of darkness, and he had made the decision for both of them. Now, Elise was dying, and he could do nothing to halt that process but watch her fade slowly before his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, but his voice cracked. He could no longer tell if he was speaking to Elise or to himself. Anger, despair, helplessness—all blended together in a vortex that was crushing him. He was angry with their captors, with the world, but most of all with himself. He felt responsible for every labored breath, for every tremor that coursed through Elise’s body.

She moved weakly, her pale face turned toward him. She seemed about to speak but lacked the strength. Noah leaned closer, trying to grasp her hand, as if to transfer at least a bit of his warmth, his life force to her. “I’m here,” he said, even though those words felt hollow. He didn’t know if she could still hear him.

Then, with a Herculean effort, Elise parted her lips, her words as frail as a whisper. “It’s not… your fault,” she breathed, as if she had sensed Noah’s thoughts, as if she knew exactly what was gnawing at him from within.

Noah stiffened. He couldn’t believe that, despite her pain, Elise was trying to comfort him, to lift a burden she herself should never have had to bear. But her words, even so weak, were a sharp blade. He couldn’t bring himself to believe them.

“Elise…” he murmured, his voice breaking with sorrow. He didn’t know what to say, how to continue. Every word felt empty, useless. There were no comforting phrases in that black hole they were trapped in. There was no hope.

Elise took a labored breath, her body visibly trembling, but she found the strength to continue. “There was… there was a garden… I used to go there all the time as a child…” Her voice was a whisper, each word seeming to require immense effort. “It was my refuge… when everything went wrong… I always went there.”

Noah remained silent, letting her speak without interruption. Her voice was feeble, but laden with an emotion that seemed to emanate from a distant, almost forgotten place. “There were… swings, and I remember… the smell of wet grass after the rain… My mother always took me there. We would get ice cream… I loved the strawberry one. Mom always bought it for me.” She paused, gasping, as if the simple act of breathing was tearing her away from him.

“I’ll take you there,” Noah said, not knowing why he was making that promise. “I promise, Elise, I’ll take you there. And we’ll get some nice strawberry ice cream.”

But she weakly shook her head, as if she knew that promise made no sense. “It doesn’t matter…” she whispered. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Noah’s heart tightened. He couldn’t bear to hear her speak like that, to see that resignation in her eyes, a resignation he was beginning to feel seep into himself. He didn’t want to lose her; he didn’t want to accept that it was over. But what could he do? The chains wrapped around his mind held him fast, and his thoughts, once clear, were now clouded with despair, with drugs, with fear.