Fathom [On Hold]

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Three: Journey

The hours following Jaycen's death are, without a doubt, the worst hours of my life. When I finally bring myself to open my eyes, Mye is leering at me. The corners of her mouth turn up in an evil smile, and without saying a word she exits and closes the room, leaving me alone with Jaycen's body. 

For the first time in a long time, I allow myself to completely break down. If all this isn't enough justification, I don't know what is. Powerful sobs wrack my weakened body, and sounds I do not recognize as my own spill from my mouth. Every movement causes pain to knife through my body, and I wrap my arms around my torso to try and keep still. It doesn't help. Not one bit.

I should've just killed myself when I had the chance. Should've done it quicker, before Jaycen could intervene. It would've been the most selfish thing I've ever done, but at the moment I cannot bring myself to care. Anything is worth not being in this much pain. 

I squeeze my eyes tight and turn my head away from where Jaycen lies. I know that what I've done is unforgivable. It seemed like the best thing to do at the time, but now I find myself regretting it more than I've ever regretted anything else. I try to reason with myself, insisting that it was what he wanted, hell he asked me to do it. It was an act of mercy. He's in no pain now. He'll never be in any pain again. He's free. 

"Jaycen," I find myself whispering. I don't know why. 

Almost of its own accord, my hand goes up to his shirt still bunched up on my head. I pull it down and grunt in pain as the dried blood pulls at my scalp. I press the fabric to my face, inhaling his still lingering scent. It's not pleasant: a mixture of sweat, dirt, and blood, but I've smelled far worse. The last thing he gave to me. And shortly thereafter I took everything from him. 

Distantly I recognize that I am not thinking rationally, but the thought almost seems artificial, like it was planted there by someone else. I accomplished my goal, right? I set out to save us from a life not worth living, and I succeeded, albeit only halfway. Although who knows - I don't feel too hot right now. I am not stable and shake all over, my head is still bleeding pretty steadily, and the waves of nausea that crash over me are relentless. I seem to not be living as soundly as I used to, and can almost feel myself slipping away. I accept it. I've long overstayed my welcome on this earth. 

Eventually I end up sobbing and heaving so hard that I choke and throw up everything I have left in my system, although admittedly it is not much. The dry heaves persist long after everything in my stomach is gone, making my insides sore as hell. I whimper quietly as I lay on the cold floor in a pool of my own blood and vomit, deplorably unable to do anything else. I'm making awful, awful noises that somehow eventually form themselves into words.

"I want to die....please, please just let me die...." 

My pleas resonate in the small area, making the whole atmosphere quite haunting. Two bodies lying adjacent to one another on the ground, one warm and one cool, one breathing and one still, becoming the yin and the yang. 

I wonder if finally, this is the end when I find myself sinking into a black sea of infinity.

I am filled with overwhelming disappointment when I awake to find myself still in this God-forsaken room, Jaycen's slumped body lying face-down a few feet away. The shock value is gone now. Luckily his face is turned away from me so I cannot see his now empty eyes. 

The metal cuffs have rubbed my wrist and ankle raw, leaving red rings on my skin like stripes of a tiger. My free hand goes to feel the heavy chain, and before I can fully process what I am doing I have it wrapped around my neck. I pull as hard as I can on opposite ends of the chain until I can no longer breathe, and try to resist the urge to stop and gulp in lung-fulls of air. It takes me about three tries before I can completely disregard the impulse and get down to business.