Killing Tink

Ch. 31

Tink woke with a dry mouth and skin that was itchy. She was still in the little room, nothing had changed and no one had bothered her for an entire night sleep. At least, she assumed it had been night. Without a window she couldn't be sure. Maybe it had been days, like before. Like when she was with Stash and time spun so fast she didn't couldn't keep track.

She lifted the pillow and looked closely at the two triangles of sandwich she had stored there. They were flat and damp and most of the jelly had oozed out and stuck to the underside of her pillow, but they were still soft and edible. It wasn't days then. The bread would have become hard and moldy.

She wiggled her toes and sat herself up slowly waiting for the intense spinning of the room to slow itself.

It was chilly and silent, and so still and she felt as if even the air was thicker, harder to suck in. No, there was plenty of air. So much air. She watched her chest move up and down. That was air. In and out. Air. She wouldn't have woken up without air. Unless she was dead. She put the side of her wrist between her teeth and bit down. Pain. She was alive and there was air.

Besides, it felt the same didn't it? Being alive and being dead? She'd been dead. Isn't that what John had told her? Yes. She'd been dead. Stash had killed her. Dumped her like an animal and the man who found her knew she was dead. He didn't touch her, because she hadn't been alive. She tried to remember being dead, but it was like remembering something you weren't a part of, and that was impossible.

Maybe being dead was the very best part of life, but she didn't remember any of it. She remembered the before. But most of her memories were of her days with Stash except for the bits and pieces from before--but none of that actually felt like her. The parts belonging to Jade were like stories someone told her that she could almost believe before they flew away again.

She thought about being Jade, and Tink, and Hope and wondered who she'd be now in this tiny room with a tiny bed and no window. Was the empty cup on the floor still a called cup when it left here?

She waited, unsure what she was waiting for. Things were clean and she wasn't hungry so whatever it was it must be good. She stood and sat and stood and sat until she felt like she had accomplished something. It was getting easier. Her muscles were remembering. Today she'd walk, and soon she'd walk and walk and never stop. She'd walk until Stash and Jade and Tink were so far behind her there wouldn't be any possibility that they could catch her.

Leaning over she stretched out her hand to feel the sheet on the little cot and put her nose close. It smelled like soap, and her. Someone had washed them and put them on here just for her. They weren't soft and worn like the hospital ones, but they were here and didn't smell like someone else.

John brought here. John said he was going to take her home. Home. She didn't have a home anymore. Once, when she was Jade she'd had a home but she had wanted to leave. Tink had a home, but one she didn't want. And Hope, her home was a hospital and shots and ties and people everywhere.

And now she was here. In the thick air with the silence and two tiny triangles and an empty cup. Caterpillars snuggled in a tiny space and stayed there until they were something else. Maybe that's what this was, the place Hope was replaced and someone else came out. She wasn't a caterpillar, she'd never be bright and fly but just the thought of it all made her feel snug. When Tink waited in the small place she became Hope, and it was scary but better, until the end. Until the ties and the hot room. But that was breaking out, it had to hurt to break out and she had done it. John had helped her, but it happened.

Now she was in another small space so Hope must be leaving too. She imagined it should be scary, waiting to find out who she was now. Maybe it was. She knew it was possible to run out of fear, to get to that space where you just didn't have anything left to make it.

She stretched out on the cot and relaxed her muscles drawing in and out the air that was filed with a scent she couldn't quite remember but somehow made her skin crawl. She was doing the only job she had right now, getting ready for her new self and waiting to find out who it was.

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It's actually really difficult to get Hopes solo chapters done. Believe it or not, they're more taxing than John's who just seems to spill his out. With Hope it's reaching into the dark and coaxing them word by word. Next up - John and Hope finally get to work.