This Isn't Your World

Chapter 21

Daun would say she was doing better, but she was lying. Everything's alright, she would tell herself, body racking with sobs as she squeezed her eyes shut, cinching the blankets tightly. Everything's all okay. I'll survive. We'll survive.

The empty bed by her told her they wouldn't.

* * *

It's been weeks, and she was forbidden to leave the hospital even once. She had no clue what was paying off their medical fees, but she preferred not to find out. Maybe it's Angin—his overly excessive contests did rack in a generous sum of money; but he was somewhere else now, far away from her.

They had come to take him a week ago. They talked to him, handing him papers and showing him articles on open laptops, but she couldn't understand what they were saying. Therapy, they said. They spoke English, but it was as if they were speaking a foreign language.

They talked for minutes, an hour even; but after that day, Angin had disappeared from his bed, and she hadn't heard of him since.

She was alone. Neither Api nor Air dropped by to visit her. The only people she would see were the nurses that checked on her, helped her through her physical therapy as she tried to adjust to her prosthetic leg, and the doctors that would take tests of her stumped knee, searching for potential infections or mutations.

They would work her through her daily routine—now inconvenienced and uneasy due to her severed leg. The nurses would drill her through the new methods she needs use to go to the toilet, how to sleep without irritating her still-frail skin, and talking to her through therapy to be rid of any .

Through all of this, she tried to ignore the fact that Angin's been missing for days. Did his powers get noticed? Was he being arrested? Would he be used as a lab rat? What if he never comes back?

She squashed the thought. She was clueless, a princess trapped in a tower. One day she would understand, when she got older.

But she couldn't help but think: Am I the only one left alive?

With the thought growing in her mind, she continued to practice wearing her prosthetic limb, her lips pressed tightly together, as the cheerful words that once was said now dead silent.

* * *

Angin never knew what it felt like to be treated like glass. The people around him weren't so considerate. They were survivors of the war that he took part in. They would never be perfectly whole, just as he would never be content with himself.

He was taken to a therapy group, where he stayed in a dorm with a bunch of other kids who shared equally suicidal thoughts. Only that all sharp objects were confiscated from them, and they had a strict schedule.

During the day, they would do exercises. Then they would have a group therapy session where a dozen of kids sat around in a circle, surrounding a certified therapist. They would take turns talking about random topics, and the therapist would try to interest them into it.

Sometimes, they would do random activities like arts and crafts (with no sharp stationary, which was infuriating because tearing foam with rulers and fingernails is hell and deserves a spot in Tartarus for the monsters' eternal punishment.

The people around him were all depressed and sad, which unnerved Angin.

"You can be saved," the therapist would say every morning. "You can be happy."

Happy? Angin thought, doubt settling in. As he lay on his assigned bed, listening to the sound of bed creaks and sheets shuffling of his dormmates.

I can be happy?

The word echoed in his mind, yet he couldn't bring himself to believe it. It's too good to be true, he told himself. People like me can never be happy.

The pulled the covers over his head, trying to drown out the shuffling created by the others, but somewhere he knew, he would never fall asleep.

* * *

Api didn't want to be left alone with his sister.

He doesn't know whether if he had the strength to handle her words. Unlike Tanah, she was less aggressive and hostile, but dangerous in her own way. She knew how to push his buttons. She knew exactly how to set him off like dynamite, all with her voice.

But in the same way, she was just like Tanah. Both of them targeted the people closest to them, hurting them in ways that was personally defeating.

Was there anything he could do? No.

Did he want to help? Yes.

Did he have the strength? No.

He's tired. Too tired. He knew he was too tired to do anything, even if it was his own sister. All he wanted was to curl up in his bed and sleep for as long as he wanted to.

"Thank you," Tanah said, grabbing Api's attention back to reality. "For everything."

Api stared at him, still alarmed that they were now the same height. How much can happen in three years, he remembered, sighing in defeat.

"It's what I should do," Api replied, though flatter than he expected.

Tanah clenched his teeth, the wariness in his eyes showing. His gaze fell onto the new albino, expression contorting between one of hesitation and anger.

"Don't let your guard down." Tanah turned back to Api, tone heavy. "Knowing Air, she's still in here. Just like I was. But... it needs to be her own battle. You can't do anything." He shook his head, as if reminiscing his time as a mindless destroyer. "I... try not to leave her alone. I know you're scared, but what Air needs right now is you."

Air, the name of his sister. Not the monster that resided in her.

One more time, right?

One last time. Then everything would be okay. They would go out with Daun and Angin, looking for work as they secretly save the city over and over, or maybe not. Everything's going to be okay. Everything doesn't need to be in shambles—

"Where will you be going?"

Tanah's gaze fell down to his boots—he couldn't meet Api's eyes.

"I'm leaving," Tanah muttered, "back to America."