ASUNDER (I) : tmr newt

53: I'm Obedient

53 Leo

I sit around the bonfire, alone. Normally the crowd that gathers here sits and laughs and drinks, but everyone is gone. Then again, normally those people are here to hang out with Dawn, who isn't in bed anymore but certainly isn't here. Although I don't really talk much with them, I know her friends well enough that I don't consider myself alone when I am with them.

Here, I am surrounded by my own solitude.

You know, I notice I am alone a lot. Especially in large settings. The silence rings in my ears, but so it does as well when people talk. I guess everything seems foggy.

I get up, moving my feet forward to "I Don't Know Where". They find there way up themselves and away from the fire. Away from the quiet chatters of people hanging around the buildings and away from the noise that surrounds us.

Ella is dying, Michelle is Michelle, and Dawn is destroyed.

The worst part is, I know it only gets worse from here. Or maybe the even worse part is I'm powerless, and also the problem. I take a deep breath in, forgetting how to exhale for a minute as I stand still.

My fist shakes in my hand and I can feel my cheeks turning deep scarlet. Is this why Michelle is always angry? Is she always afraid? I know I certainly am trying not to be.

I can't worry anymore.

My feet move closer and closer to the doors, which are shut tight. Pressed together firmly to keep those shucking Grievers out of her

Before me are two walls made of stone, covered in vines. Although they are massive, they do not intimidate me like they used to. After all, too much of me has been turned to dust by the fear that courses through my veins.

I take the green vines in my hand, not pulling on them before I prop my feet off the ground. Of course I'm not that strong, so the force rips through my muscles as I hold myself up. Taking one hand, I reach farther up, the skin on my hands burning against the vines. My hands are sweaty and the vines are slippery, but I pull myself further up anyway, letting my feet rest in grooves in the Wall.

Stopping for a second, I precariously leaning against the corners of the Walls as I wrap two vines around my hand. It takes me a minute to do it without falling, using solely one hand to hold myself up and a few ruts in the Walls.

When I'm done, my grip against the vines is much better. My arms seer as they pull me higher and higher. The whole thing almost feels out of my control. The distance I have travelled escapes me, though I can't manage to look down and check. There is no going back.

I take one breathe in once more, hoisting myself up one place further. Anymore I go, and the vines get thinner. Though I am not huge, I am not small enough to be supported by a thread.

My eyes manage to dart away from the Wall once, turning around to see the Glade. From here, everything is small. I'm not that high up; I can only barely see the top of the Homestead. From here though, everyone looks dark and blurry. Any person's single identity is useless. Somehow, as much as all of it matters, none of it matters from here.

The thought takes weight off my chest. Everything that happens down there is as small as the people are. I can breathe with that thought off my chest. In fact, it makes breathing substantially easier.

That was all I needed.

But, at the same time, it isn't. This is the illusion of a fix. Sure, maybe I'm not afraid, but I feel hopeless. If our problems are so small, why do I care so much? Why am I such a problem?