Breathe

Chapter 3 - In Love With Arguing

I walked into the dining room. Unsurprising, the room was as quiet as it usually was, with only soft side remarks between Luckas and Dani and the sound of clanging glasses filling the room. But besides that, everyone else was keeping to themselves—all three of them. Like always, I sat down in the empty seat next to Phil, whose head was turned downward as though he was hiding his face.

At the sound of the cushion pressing down, he perked up and lifted his head. "Hey, Al," was all he said.

"Dinner is on the way."

"Really?" he asked with a little too much energy.

"More or less," I responded. Looking at the duo across from us, I asked, "What's the topic this time?"

"Honestly, I don't know," he said, "I just got here."

Leaning in, I listened to their conversation.

"I haven't been eating too much—I've been eating less!" Dani exclaimed.

"Damien, eating less does not mean that you're eating the amount that you should," Luckas replied. "You eat enough for two of you—aren't you worried you're going to gain weight?"

She huffed and rolled her eyes. "Whether I'm worried or not shouldn't matter to you—you're not me. You don't have to live with my mistakes."

Trying to catch her attention, he leaned in closer to her. "Dan— Damien, your mistakes affect us. If you eat more, the rest of us eat less. If you die, we have to figure out where to bury you." Under his breath, he added, "We're running out of places to bury the dead as it is; you don't want to add to the body count."

"God, Luke, you make me sound like a statistic."

"Someone has to document your death. That person will be me."

"Well, give my body to someone else!"

"Damien, I document all the deaths that occur in Lower Libentina."

"I'll just die somewhere else then. I'll just walk around in Middle Libentina until I get shot or something," she said with a sardonic tone. "Then, you won't have to deal with my shit—someone else will."

He sighed. "Why are you so dramatic?"
"Dramatic?" she asked, turning her head fast, causing her ponytail to flip. "I am not dramatic. Luke, you're dramatic. You're the one who started talking shit about how much I eat and how much I weigh and crap; I sure as hell didn't bring it up."

"I only brought it up because you started complaining about our rations."

"Well, to hell with it! It doesn't matter—we're all going to die, anyway. Might as well starve to death. And hey, at least we'll all die together. That's romantic, right? Probably what Ben would've wanted: for us to be dead!"

Axel jumped to his feet. "Dani, yue're talkin' shit now! Ben wuldn't had wunted that at all. He cared about us—all of us—so don't go 'round spouting BS like he wunted us dead!"

She scoffed. "Yeah, sure, he didn't—whatever you say. Obviously, the pawn knows what he's talking about."

"Why—"

"Anyway, it's not like it matters. We're gonna die at this rate. Not because we eat too much, but because we waste too much," Dani said, cutting Axel off. "We'll all die together in a filthy house. The End—end of story. Read about how our bodies are used to make more X.Q. gas next year."

"What's wrong with our house?" I asked.

She looked at me in disbelief. "Al, are you serious? Have you seen our walls?" She pointed at a patch of mold in the corner. "This house is literally molding and dust keeps piling up—could it get any worse?"