MORTAL ✰ ISAAC LAHEY

[CHAPTER 21]

Breaking

"D-did you see her?" Allison stutters out, shifting her eyes to the side slightly as Lydia looks up at her approaching steps. She couldn't bear the silence and sadness radiating off of her best friend — Lydia was never devastated in the entire time that Allison had been at Beacon Hills High School.

By now, it was notable that Lydia had perfected a disguise of her own. She knew when to flaunt a pretty smile, when to flutter her eyelashes softly, and when to hint at charming words. She was a master at manipulation when she wanted to be, but in the entire time that Allison had watched her control her surroundings, she had never seen her friend so powerless.

Lydia Martin was a goddess in her own right. She practically owned the school, played her divorced parents to her advantage, and she knew when to show her cards and when to draw back. She was a wave of destruction, but she brought the change she wanted and she controlled the wreckage by selecting the pieces left behind with a magnifying glass in her perfectly manicured hands and a devious smile on her luscious lips.

It was when Lydia was slumped on a waiting room chair, complete with her head in her hands, fingers daring to pull at her strawberry blonde hair, and bandages wrapped around her knees slowly soaking red, that Allison realized the facade her friend had hidden behind. It wasn't hard to see the havoc swirling through Lydia's quick mind — it was practically written on her face when her eyes blinked open, her lashes stuck together, and hints of dark makeup had pooled and dried on her red cheeks.

"I did," Lydia spoke, startling Allison from her thoughts. At the flicker of confusion that had presented itself onto Allison's pale face, Lydia choked out, "I saw her, I mean."

For a moment, it was silent between the two. They were purely sniffling and glancing into each other's eyes briefly before looking away. There were no words that felt right on their lips. There was not a justification in the world that would make them feel any better or any relief that could be found from that moment in their lives.

How could you justify any of this? How could you tell someone that they could lose their child, or a friend, or a coworker, or a spouse, or even a lover? How could you find a way to manage to make it all balance out to an alright chapter in a life? How could you find words to say that a life was worth more than another or that losing one life doesn't compare to losing another?

It didn't matter whether there were words for any of it — this moment and this path was something so many people found themselves on and there was no way to compare pain and suffering. It wasn't how much pain that existed, it was how much pain you could take.

A soul can only carry so much before the burden grows too heavy and it comes toppling down like the highest of towers, the strongest of reigns, and the might of empires. There was always a weight that weighed too much and a burden that would overwhelm. There is always something to break the human soul and there is always something to try and mend it.

Beyond pain stems growth and change, among ends, there are new beginnings, and within tragedy and suffering, there is undeniable hope that beats as one.

There is the bonds of friendship, the strangeness of comfort, the duty of love, and the capability of humans to find hope in their aspirations. There is the indisputable need to share in the suffering of others and find ways to hold each other upright in times of need.

There is hope.

"How is she?" Allison whispered as she shuffled closer to Lydia, who still hadn't moved from her position of staring up at her.

Her answer was merely a whimper — a sad sound that could only mean that hope was slowly fading away from them.

Another tear trickled down Allison's face and she angrily brushed it away with the back of her hand. She clenched her fist, knuckles cracking loudly, and she narrowed her eyes slightly at the smears and traces of makeup that she had carelessly wiped onto her hand. She could barely see through the tears welling up in her eyes, but she could see clearly enough that notice a hand reaching towards hers.

As she glanced away from her hands, she found Lydia's hands stretched towards hers. They were marked with the same stains and the same pain that was slowly beginning to destroy everyone around them.

Lydia's hands were warm and a little soaked from her tears and frustration, but Allison pushed past that when her now shaking hands were clasped tightly by Lydia's.

"I'm glad you're here," left Lydia's lips before. There was a slight pause as she tried to pick out the right words to express herself, but she easily found them, "I thought you weren't going to show up."

Allison faltered. Thoughts of her cowardice ran through her head alongside the images of words spoken in forests tangled into the night and the heavy sobs that began to mirror empty pleas. She hadn't been suffering alone in the hours before, but her best friend had been waiting desperately for a scrap of news and dangling her sanity for a shred of hope to light up the darkness that was closing in around her.

It didn't matter to Lydia in that moment — her hands released Allison's and her arms found themselves wrapped around Allison's body with ease. Immediately, Allison's arms encased Lydia and pulled her closer as the salty teardrops fell.

"Of course I'd be here," Allison choked out minutes later, her throat raw and filled with a deep sadness that she tried to spew out, but instead, it clawed inside her throat, tortured her thoughts, sat deeply in her lungs, and found each and every crevice to hide itself in.

// you're welcome. it's slightly devastating and mostly just painful. it's what i'm at writing and apparently what i tend to write. thanks for reading my trash and voting/commenting on it. it means a lot, but it also means i will continue ruining lives with my destructive writing yo