The Mantis Effect

Chapter Eight

I sat at her bedside, just waiting for her to wake. I stared between her and the monitor tracking her heart rate. She had slept quietly now for three days and I wondered if she was back in that place-that meadow.

My eyes grew heavy and I wanted to meet her there. I hadn't slept, at least not consistently. I would drift off but nod myself awake almost immediately. After that mission how could anyone ever sleep again? Every time my eyelids slid down I saw the red poppy petals and black talons tearing through them viciously.

There was no sleep for those who had seen the actuality of this war.

I sat for a while longer before my eyes started getting heavy. I needed to get up and move but I didn't have the energy nor could I find it in me. My lids began to droop and then I heard her voice. Her tone was a pleasant surprise.

"I imagine that chair makes a lousy bed," She said.

I smiled at her.

"I'm glad you're awake. I'll go get a doctor," I offered.

"No," she said.

She took a moment to allow her body to wake up and acclimate to the pain she had been unconsciously numb to for three days.

"Nobody knows," I said.

She looked at me. She knew I was talking about what happened back at the poppy compound.

"And no one will," I said quietly.

"Thank you," she croaked.

She shifted and winced in pain.

"Let me go and get someone who can at least give you something for the pain," I pleaded.

"Hap, where is he? Is he alright?" she began to ask.

There was an unfamiliar feminine worry in her tone. She cared very little for herself and so much more s for Hap. She loved him so deeply; their love was the kind that transcended all boundaries and limitations. I could see it now. Before her feelings seemed obscure but there was nothing obscure in her tone.

"He's resting. They operated on his leg two days ago to repair the bone and the medical staff has him sedated for the pain now," I said.

She stared at me as if made uneasy about him being operated on. I assured her that Titus had not left his side.

She settled back down in the bed and lay there. She stared at the wall blankly.

"I suppose you can see how badly I'm fraying now," she said.

I didn't know what to say. I was afraid to touch her. Part of me was afraid it would hurt her and the other part was afraid it would trigger her. I found myself involuntarily reaching forward and touching her hand.

"You'll be better once we leave this place," I whispered.

She looked at me and a single tear rolled soundlessly from her eye.

"I wish that very much. I have tried so hard for so long to keep myself together in a glass jar and I'm not even sure the little bits left of me are anything of me at all," she choked.

I stared at her. What could I say to that?

"That's the mantis effect you know. You're the mantis; a creature of beauty worth preserving. You try to keep that little shred of yourself safely inaccessible from the world outside while allowing it to live vicariously through the glass. You try to maintain a little bit of life's beauty but you'll end up ruining it if you don't give it the chance to breathe," she whispered.