Heartbroken

Chapter 30: Allegra

 If I could use one word to describe how it felt, it would be hell. No one ever escapes a burning building and says "Man, that was an educational experience," No one ever turns around and says 'thanks' to the devil for the traumatic emotions and the heart wrenching pain as tears fall and blood runs. And just like everyone else, I will never say thank you. Gratitude is for someone who has done something good: this is anything but.

Though I can describe the atmosphere, I can't fully convey my deeper emotions. Nothing makes sense. The pounding of my head, my shaking fists, my eyes always blurred with tears or dry from the lack thereof. My temperature was always changing: sometimes I felt like I was freezing at the bottom of a winter lake, and other times it felt like my skin was going to melt. Constance changed to inconstance and I felt like my life would never see the sun again.

I felt every emotion possible, ranging from severe depression, to hate so strong that I once punched a hole in the wall, surprising myself and the butler. I remember that George swept the mess without a word as Mr. Chans guided me back to my room. And I would've punched another hole if my guilt hadn't stopped me.

I was a puppet to my emotions. I would convince myself that I was in control, but it was always a lie. People who are in control don't punch walls. They don't burst into tears every time they walk past Mercy's room. They don't keep themselves up all night with heartbreak. They don't feel guilty for what happened to their sister. They don't blame themselves for what they didn't do. They could have been better. They could have helped her.

But what does guilt do to a person? Is it more than picking a mind apart or taking the heart from your chest. What is the purpose? Of course there is none. Then why was I feeling that guilt when I knew what it could do to me? I wanted to. I wanted to feel the pain. I wanted to blame myself because I wouldn't be able to blame anyone else. And I set myself up for heartbreak even after I was already broken.

I layed on my bed, staring at the ceiling. The tingling in my entire body numbed my arms and legs, and even though it was uncomfortable, I didn't want to move. I focused on my stomach, expanding and lowering, the steady rhythm the only comfort I had. But every breath I took reminded me of every breath that had been lost. Every tear reminded me of the tears that my sister would never shed.

So I didn't cry.

Every time I closed my eyes I saw her face. Her smiling, young, beautiful face. Why was she smiling? Her happiness gave me confidence enough to force myself to sit up, the bed sinking more under the concentrated weight. A single pillar of light entered through the window, the orange and red casting small shadows on the walls of the dark room. I stood slowly, pushing off the bed and stepping heavily to the window seat. I sidled onto the pillowed bench, leaning my head against the cold glass and hugging my knees to my chest.

Nothing will ever be the same.

"Allegra?"

I heard Mercy's voice before I heard Milo's. I dragged a hand down my face, peeling my cheek away from the window, blinking. I didn't remember crying, but my face felt tight and my eyes were swollen. I stumbled from my perch, tripping on my own foot and steadying myself on the desk.

"The viewing is at 7," Milo's voice was rough and uncut, slightly wavering. There was a loud crack as the wood of the desk split. Confused, I took back my tingling arm. Milo opened the door when he heard the sound, and it was the most emotional I had ever seen him. The bags under his eyes stood out against his white skin, his actual eyes dry and completely empty. He still wore his signature scarf around his neck, but if scarves could have feelings, his would be depressed. Seeing him slouch in front of me, his usual casual posture replaced with tense, overanxious movements, chipped at my heart with a dull sword. Just looking at him rekindled my painful feelings of guilt and loneliness. Ignoring the desk, I walked to him, standing on my toes to wrap my arms around his neck.