Fragmented Grace

Fragmented Grace~ Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Arielle Wright.

 

I waited in the shape of a human ball in my room for anyone to find me. I didn’t want anyone to find me, I tried to convince myself, but in reality, I truly did. It would be nice for someone to find me, and maybe comfort me if they were able. At that moment, I would’ve even taken that girl from breakfast--Lucia. A hug would’ve been welcome despite the shock I’d probably receive from it.

 

And so I rocked myself back and forth, tears falling shamelessly down my face as I wondered what would happen because of my actions. I wouldn’t take A.P.T. again. I never wanted to.

 

You were wrong, Morgan. I thought to him more than myself even if he couldn’t hear me at that given moment. I didn’t blame him for giving me false hopes, though. He had just been trying to help, like any good friend might do. Or any human being, really.

 

I wondered if they actually considered us human, despite our abilities that set us apart from the average. Maybe some of us were, in theory at the very least, but in some cases our ability changed us. Mr. Crimson had spoke of people who had lost their mind due to it, like in cases of being telepathic or something else that required mental concentration. Since being able to bring the dead back to life mentally plagued me, maybe I could fall under the same category.

 

Knocking came at the door, but I ignored it. I decided I really didn’t need anyone’s comfort after all. Maybe if crying didn’t leave me with splotch red cheeks and a horrible sniffle that lasted for almost a half hour. If those people could get in, then I supposed I wouldn’t have minded, but I wasn’t going to be opening the door and greeting them looking like that.

 

The door swung open soon after, and voices came tumbling in.

 

“She just lost both of her parents, you have to give her a break!” One pleaded, surely trying to convince the other that soon followed.

 

“Like Hell I do. She’s a grown woman, she should know how to take care of herself.” Both voices belonged to males, but this one sounded infinitely more furious than the other.

 

“Like you took care of yourself when you lost your wife?” There was a pause between their responses, and apparently between their advancement towards me because nothing more approached me. My sobbing ceased, but only because I was too focused on trying to figure out whether they were going to drag me back or not.

 

A hand landed on my shoulder, and I jumped before turning my head back slightly to see him. It was Mr. Crimson, his expression soft and worried. Hades came up beside him looking similarly, but wasn’t the one that had been part of the initial conversation that I heard. A glance farther over my shoulder revealed another man walking out, apparently leaving me be.

 

“How are you doing?” Mr. Crimson asked tenderly, keeping a wry smile on his face.

 

I scoffed. It was rude, but I didn’t want them to see truly how much trouble I was having. As if the teary face didn’t give it away “Fine.” He nodded as if he believed me, but his words told me otherwise.