Our Manufactured Reality

Chapter 13: Stutter

[Charlie's POV]

My head was throbbing when I woke up.  I opened my eyes only to remember the horror that had happened earlier.

A.I.M. knew...  And he took Harper...

As I looked up at the sky, I realized I'd been unconscious for a while.  The sun was higher in the sky, and I was sore enough to have been here for a few hours.  My head ached, and I slowly attempted to stand, but realized that was not the only thing that had been hurt.

Then I remembered A.I.M. pulling the gun from his metallic body...  Him cocking it...  And the bullet penetrating my leg just as I went down.

I didn't get to see Harper.  I couldn't save her...  Or say goodbye...  I felt so guilty in breaking my promise to her.  She was so scared about this.  I told her I'd protect her, but I couldn't.

It was too late now.  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force down the pain, yet it wouldn't cooperate.

I couldn't imagine what she'd be thinking right now: He left me.  Or: Why couldn't he save me?

But when I really thought about how well I knew Harper, she was probably thinking this was her fault.

It's not your fault, Harper.  It's not.  I wished I could tell her these things.  It's my fault.  I told you to run.  I should've followed.  I should've kept you safe.

Soon it dawned on me that the last thing she must've seen was me being shot.  And I couldn't take it.

I'm alive!  Harper, I'm alive!  He didn't kill me!  I put my head in my hands and sank back into the earth. I'm alive... A single tear streamed down my face and dripped off onto the ground.

After a long, silent few minutes, I came to face the facts that she wasn't coming back. I have to get back to the R.E.P. camp.  Back to Corey.  And...  If she's still...  I couldn't say it.  I'm gonna go after her.

I rose from my place on the ground, trying with all my effort to ignore the pain in my leg.  The bleeding was noticeable now, and I felt dizzy as I stood.  Still, I managed to stand, and find a sturdy branch to use as a cane.

My leg continued to drain of blood as I walked, and my pant leg was soon soaked through.  Feeling woozy, I slowly sat down at the base of a tree and pulled a blanket from my pack.

Surviving was the only thing I could focus on right then.  It hurt too much to think otherwise.  Even though I had been shot, it seemed unfair that Harper had been taken instead of me.  Why not me?

I tightly tied the blanket around my leg and used the tree to get upright again.

~~~

My walk back to camp was long.

The minutes seemed to stretch out longer and longer than the ones before them.  Not to mention, I had nothing to focus on but my injury.  I could only move at one, slow speed, and I came bearing awful news.

A heavy weight was on my shoulders and I carried it alone.  Every fiber in my body wished I could've been taken instead of Harper, or even with her.  As long as I knew she was safe.

But I didn't even know that now.  I only had the facts.  And no matter how long I thought, Harper was still gone, and I was not.  And there was no way of knowing whether she was okay, or even where A.I.M. took her.

As the minutes dragged on, I longed to have told her more.  To have talked with her more about each other.  About how I thought about her...

It was true about earlier this morning, I'd been awake for a bit before she woke up.  I just let her arm rest on my side.  Not wanting to disturb her may have been a good excuse, but the truth was far more complicated than that.  It was almost as if I'd wanted her to be there.

The first time I felt something had been that night in the gas station.  I saw her face light up when she saw herself, and it made me smile.

From then on, I wanted to make her smile like that again.  And every time I succeeded, I felt a new feeling in the pit of my stomach.  A dizzy, warm, awkward, joyful, feeling.

I can't say it wasn't friendship, because I know how strong that was.  I'd been used to friendship with her, and this was different.

And down by the creek, when she told me I'd been with someone before the pods, I wanted to hug her.  I wanted to hold her and tell her it didn't matter.  I remember telling her that I chose this life.  Well, I really chose her.  That day, I chose Harper Atkins.

And today, I let her slip away.

Why didn't I tell her?  Why didn't I just let her know how I felt...?  But how could I?  What would I have said...?

My mind replayed these events in the last few minutes before I reached the camp.  And in those moments, the heartbreak left me.  Anger took its place.

~~~

I stepped through the cloaking shield, and there was the team that would've taken A.I.M. down.  They looked surprised, and glanced behind me in notion that maybe he was still behind me.

I just shook my head and walked past.

In finding Corey, I prepared to tell him the news.  At least I had one friend that might understand.

"Charles?"  He was taken aback. "Where's A.I.M?  Did my team take him down?"

"No."  Anger boiled within me. "And you d-didn't ask where Harper was."

He stopped short, realizing he'd made a mistake. "Oh.  Where is she?"

"He t-took her."  My face contorted in pain and I observed the return of my stuttering.  But I was too angry to care. "He took her, C-Corey!"

"Now calm down.  I'm sure she's okay."  He tried his best, yet they were empty words.

"No!  What are we su-p-posed to do?"  I attempted to wash away the lump in my throat with saliva. "She's gone!  I c-couldn't save her!"  My fists clenched and I sank to ground. "She's gone...  She's gone..."  My eyes closed, my breathing slowed, and silent tears streamed down my face.

Corey knelt down beside me and patted my back.

Harper had meant so much more to me than I'd realized.  She'd been my friend.  The one that woke up with me.  The one that was in the same situation as me.  The only one that could relate to me.

And as I remembered my stuttering, I added that she'd been the only one that could take the part of me away.  She'd made me better.

"She's gone...  Harper's g-gone..."  My fists un-clenched and, exhausted as I was, I crumpled to the ground.

"Charles?"  Corey spoke, but I couldn't respond.  And then he noticed my bandaged leg. "He's been shot!  I need medical attention over here!"

The stabbing pain in my leg was now surfacing. I came to terms with just how bad it was, and gritted my teeth.

I can't move. I can't do anything about my leg. And I can't do anything about Harper.

As a group of people who seemed to be the doctors of the camp rushed around me, darkness began to envelope my vision.

Pain and lack-of-blood blood began to pull me into a deep sleep as the doctor's frantic voices began to fade. I tried to hang on, but I just couldn't. The injury was too much. The pain was too much.

And once again, blackness consumed my broken, hopeless world.