FALTER

CHAPTER 43: Tearing at the seams.

Her eyes felt wrong in her head. Heavy breaths hurt her lungs, but the biggest pain was in the sockets of her skull. It felt like her eyeballs were covered in pins, all stabbing in different directions. They felt wrong, she felt wrong. Her limbs felt too big, her ribs too wide, her legs too new, and her mind too hazy.

She ran through the twisting hallways, her bare feet tapping on the cold tiles. There were tears in her eyes, though she was too disoriented to process what exactly she felt.

The little girl couldn't think; it was as if her memory was missing large chunks of itself. Still, in between panicked gasps and frightened blinks, she saw a barely discernible afterimage in the corners of her vision. She remembered orange and burning, but more than that, her body screamed with the delayed reaction to an immense heartache.

She slipped, landing hard on her back. As she desperately tried to regain the wind which had been knocked out of her, the child curled up into herself. The unyielding white lights shone down on her harshly as she finally started crying in the middle of the office hallway.

There had been a boy. A friend, or a brother, maybe, but it didn't matter to her. All she felt was his absence in her chest, a painful hole that felt like it was sucking in the very life from her. But who was the boy, and who was she? Memories stirred like fish under rushing water but nothing responded to her desperate attempts to recall, except hazy faces. There was a woman who looked strikingly like her - her heart beat faster. It was her mother, she realized. But who was the child. She could remember glimpses of curly hair, flashes of a brilliant smile and a warmth that seemed to connect them to each other.... but she couldn't even remember his name.

Footsteps pattered down the bend, following her loud wailing. A woman with short, scruffy hair skidded to a halt, kneeling down in one smooth motion, and hugged the girl. Her body shook wildly underneath the fabric of her dress, but the girl didn't hesitate to bury her face in the woman's chest. The woman reciprocated, wrapping her arms around the child.

"Who- where is he?!" She screamed.

Yarane grimaced. Her heart skipped multiple beats as her lips parted. She wanted to scream it into the girl's ears, ensure her that her pain was only temporary but-

"He's gone,"

Right as the girl heard the whisper, her eyes widened open and she opened her mouth to scream.

The door swung open with a creak.

Imti winced, pausing in the doorway of Grizz's house. He had wanted to sulk during his entrance. With a sigh, he put his jacket up on the hangar and walked through the entrance. His mind buzzed slightly as it re-familiarized itself with the hallway.

It was starkly different compared to the first time he had stepped into the abode. The walls were adorned with wallpaper, which was a little faded with age. There were far more pictures on the wall, numerous additional furniture pieces and Deepti's various achievements, medals and certificates, were either framed or displayed on a shelf all throughout the path to the kitchen.As Imti stepped inside, he saw Grizz at the stove, a sizzling pan hidden by his back. He was still wearing his police uniform, smelling slightly musty even from the entrance. Deepti sat at the countertop, leaning on her hand. A glass of red wine was held in her other one. She shot her brother a furtive glance but didn't break her flow of conversation with Grizz.