The Monster [H.S.]

Chapter 49

Annabelle Foster

What the hell is going on? Where am I? A minute ago I could swear I was in the field outside defending us against the Resistance and now I'm...hang on-I'm...I'm in a casket?!

"What the hell is going on?" I ask, but what I hear coming out sounds very different and more like a slur of words.

"You're awake." Harry smiles, his dimples indenting his cheeks which now have stubble, and his hair seems longer, not as perfectly swept backward as before.

"What's going on Harry?" I try to ask as he takes my hand but again my words merge into nothing and I begin to panic, but he seems to understand me anyway as his thumb strokes my palm.

"You collapsed on the field. They thought you just couldn't handle the energy and pressure on your body and you flatlined. You were dead; for days. But you're back now. You'll be fine now." He smiles, his hand reaching to caress my cheek and I state in shock. I was dead? I was fucking dead?
"And I'm sorry." He says, dropping his head to rest on the edge of the casket, his voice quivering. "I'm so sorry for everything I said to you. I didn't mean any of it. It was bullshit, all of it." He looks up to me and to my surprise his eyes are bloodshot. "I thought you were dead and the last thing I told you was a lie." He shakes his head. "I love you." He whispers.

I love you too.

• • • • • •

48 Hours Later

"You ready?" Harry asks, taking my hand in his and helping me to my feet.

"Yes." I breathe, linking my arm round his to use him as a support.

"You could still take the wheelchair you know?" He asks and I look at him. "Okay, you don't need to take it, geez." He says and I bite on my cheek to stop from laughing, smacking him in the stomach but faltering and he holds me up.

I lean into him, breathless as the pain in my stomach stings me.

"We don't have to do this. You could lie right back down here on this bed." He says, his green eyes holding deep worry but I shake my head.

"No. I've been dead long enough."

"Yes, you have." He half smiles, his eyes holding a different kind of pain. It's amazing how much his eyes will tell me.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Let's just go." He half snaps before recollecting himself. "Let's just get you out there." He says, his lips pressing into my forehead and my eyes close in content.

We walk slowly out of the medical centre front door and outside where every class and race of Terrebit stand, going from commanders to weaponry masters to bread makers to the emotionless and demonic monsters that do the majority of their dirty work. But still they have those blue eyes, and you can't mistake them for anything other than Terrebit.

They bow down at my feet, the field in complete silence and I swallow nervously. When thousands of your enemy are kneeling before you it's hard not to tremble a little.

I feel Harry's grip on my hand loosen and look to see him kneeling next to me, his hand still in mine and his other holding my back in case I fall. Oh great. Now I'm the only one standing. I'm half tempted to sit down so that I don't feel like such a monument. I look back to Harry and he nods at me.

Paul told me that I need to give some sort of speech. Not a big one - just one to "thank" them for their prayers and support. But will I be doing that? Will I hell. Especially not when those heart ripping killers are here. They probably don't even understand me. They were made to rip out hearts, not to be thanked.