Losing Eight Lives

33 | Over

I stare at my house. Or what's left of it anyway. I try to imagine my house still standing. All perfect and pretty again. Not a scratch on it. Everything in it's place like it's supposed to be. But instead I end up just seeing my house as it is. Just rubble and ashes. Shattered glass and splintery wood. Charred furniture and cracked stone. In fact the whole world at this point seems to be just as badly damaged as my house. Damaged beyond repair.

I don't know anyone outside of Area 9L. I've only seen them on TV once. But even then, they seemed broken.

It's the people, I realize, that are the damaged ones.

I breath in the polluted air and kick around a blackened rock that happened to be on what's left of my driveway. The trees themselves seemed to be suffering from a lung disease. My long hair in a pony tail shifts with the light breeze. Not a bird chirped, not a squirrel scampered, not a creature stirred. Except me.

"Are you sure you all want to do this?" A look of disturbance surfaces on Catherine's face.

I turn around and face everyone, ignoring her question. "How many lives do we all have?" I hear Catherine sigh.

"Eight," Jace responds. His fingers are wrapped around a knife.

"Seven," Becka says.

"Seven," Cam swallows.

I nod. "I have five." I glance at Sean and Addison, who bring the last of the weapons that they found to the pile we've created. Sean looks up at me, and gives me a sad smile. "What's your plan?" I ask him.

"Well," Addison tosses a sharp metal stick into the pile. "I should be dead already, so . . ."

"And I don't have a reason to live." Sean adds. "The disease is slowly killing me anyway."

The disturbance of what we are doing suddenly hits me at full force and I have to find my balance again. "How are we supposed to do this?"

"Amanda," Jace suddenly says. My stomach drops and I remember all the reasons I chose to do this.

"We don't have anything to live for." Becka says as if it's obvious.

"It'll destroy Area 9L." Catherine reminds me. She looks distantly at the pile of weapons. She takes a short breath, and looks up at us abruptly. "I can't do this. I can't just sit here and watch you."

"You don't have to," I say to her softly. "All you have to do it tell our story."

She swallows, and closes her eyes. "Okay, then I'm leaving." she walks up to me, and embraces me in an unexpected hug. I'm taken aback by it at first, but then wrap my arms around her and try to empty my mind to keep me from overthinking things.

Catherine hugs everyone else, and gets in her car. With one last glance, she drives off and doesn't look back.

"That was smart of her." Sean admits.

I nod, and take a few deep breaths. "Alright, lets do this."

-=-=-=-

I'm down to one life. One. My breathing is rapid and uneven and I can't control myself. I scream at the top of my lungs until my throat's soar, for no reason at all.

"I just want it to be over. Just let it be over. I want it to be over. Over over over over." I mumble to myself, and let out another scream. I continue to chant over to myself as if it would make me feel better.

I'm alone in the woods. We didn't know what it would be like to go from an abundance of lives to none at all in a short period of time, so we split up, and made sure it was far enough away so we can't hear each other.

But I know where they are, I reminded myself. The pain I've been through in the passed half hour was more pain than I've ever felt in all my other lives put together. I'm almost there. I know where they are. Just let it be over. Over over over over.

"Over!" I scream. My voice sounds weird. Like it's not even mine. Like it's attached to someone else. I glance down at the ground under me, and see the snow stained in my blood. I hold my knife tight in my trembling hand, and suddenly breathing seems hard.

My own voice fills my head. You know where they are. You know where they are. Go find them. They need your help. You know where they are. The voice is loud and I can't focus on anything else. My head suddenly hurts, and I struggle to inhale my next breath.

"I know!" I scream. "I know where they are!" I stand up and start running through the woods, towards my house. Jace is up there. You can help him.

I run out of the trees and up the hill until my house comes into focus. I see Jace picking himself up, and grabbing a different weapon. I still hold my knife tight in my hands, and tears suddenly fill my eyes.

"Jace," I call breathlessly. He's covered in his own blood, and pain fills his eyes.

"Phoebe, you're not supposed to leave your place." he says, worried.

My head swarms with the loud voice again, causing me to fall to the snow and scream.

When I open my eyes, Jace is kneeled next to me. "What happened?"

"You need my help? I can help you." I whisper, "Help me," I cry desperately.

The voices seem to scream in my head and I cover my ears with my bloody hands. He looks at me like he doesn't understand what I'm saying.

"You're okay Phoebe, it's okay." Jace tries to wrap his arms around me.

"I can help you," the voices fade and mine's the only one I hear. But it doesn't sound like mine. "I can help you," I raise the knife I hold in my hand and lunge it at his neck. He grabs my hand before it reaches his skin and holds it still. "Help me Jace."

He looks at me with eyes full of fear in its purest form, and takes the knife out of my hands before crawling away from me. I stay where I sit on my heels, and just look at him through eyes that don't feel like mine.

"Help me Jace. I can't do it. I tried to help you. Help me."

He just stares at me with horror, like he doesn't even know who I am. "You're not making any sense-"

"Please."

I see him swallow, and he stands up. His wobbly legs bring him to the pile of weapons, and he picks up a small gun.

It's loaded, I remind myself. He's going to help me.

Jace gingerly walks over to me, gun at his side. He comes close to me, and kneels down. I close my eyes and freeze, as he suddenly speaks to me in a soft voice.

"You will not be forgotten, Phoebe."

I swallow, and wait. His words echo in my head without meaning. I can't think straight, thousands of words bounce around in my head, and the voices come back. I open my mouth to let out a scream, but a gunshot rings through the air, lounder than the voices.

And suddenly, it was over.