Somewhere In Brooklyn

Chapter 22

November 25, 2017

Dale shouldn't trust the feeling of happiness. Not when he knew he it wouldn't last.

He was so stupid, feeling happy when she couldn't. So selfish for forgetting all the miseries that he caused. How could he laugh and hope when he caused so much pain? When his sister is dead? He let it—her—consume him, let her stay in his mind like a sick schoolboy having a crush for the first time. So stupid, so selfish.

And so earlier, they started to come back to remind him of that.

You killed her...

You shouldn't have left...

The guilt should eat you alive...

Hearing them whispered it on his ears as if they're really there held a horrible, clutching, sinking feeling in Dale's chest. He closed his eyes to focus on his breathing and because the floor was starting to tilt again.

You don't deserve to breathe...

It was your fault...

I hope you feel like the monster you really are...

The train stopped with a screeching noise and he dared to open his eyes to see everyone facing him. Their mouths talking and their eyes burning him with their scornful glare. But he couldn't hear them. All he could hear were those truthful accusations whispered in his ears and his loud heartbeat blanketed by a white, static noise.

Dale closed his eyes shut again, pressed his elbows on his knees and his hands cradled his head. He felt the train move again but it's like the ground was being shaken like an earthquake.

You should have died...

"I... I k-know."

You're so stupid and selfish...

"Hey, kid, are you alright?" asked the guy across him.

You'll never be alright...

Dale opened his eyes again, brimming with tears. He kept his head down because he was afraid of what he would see if he look up. Probably blurred faces and walls closing down. His heart kept stopping and starting every few seconds. His attempts to breathe and stay calm were in vain. His unruly, black hair clung to his forehead as his body started to coat in sweat.

"Check if his pocket or bag has an inhaler or medical card."

How could you...

You should have died...

It's your own fault...

"I-I know."

"J-just take a deep breath, kid. Think of happy thoughts. IS THERE A DOCTOR HERE?!"

He heard everyone talking and their voices were like needles tormenting his brain, like an electric shots being fired through his skull and it's too painful. He started to cry hard because they just won't stop. He felt someone took his bag from his shoulders but he didn't care.

They could also take his life for all he cares.

"Hey, don't crowd him!"

Despite his blurry visions, he saw someone knelt down in front of him. Black trenchcoat, maroon plaid skirt.

"Look at me, look at me. Take a deep breath and count with me, okay? One... two..."

"Are you even a doctor or a nurse, young lady?"

Dale shook his head because his knew what he was going to see and he was ashamed that it was happening like this.

"Hey, it'll be over soon. Just look at me," she paused, looking at his school ID, "Dale. Look at me."

And so he did. Dale looked up and there they were—the greenest pair of eyes that he'd ever seen, his very own garden of Eden.