❝Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.❞
- Friedrich Nietzsche
Alissa Cameron was just an ordinary high scho...
[ THE HUMAN CONDITION ] Chapter XXVI: Before Heaven Falls
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❝Anger's my meat; I sup upon myself, And so shall starve with feeding.❞ William Shakespeare, Coriolanus
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I WAS WORDLESS WHEN I exited my house, slamming the door behind me. Jacob had his arm hanging out of his truck's rolled-down window, head turned to face the girl beside him. He was occupied while I was pressed for time.
My limbs fidgeted and still felt the cold intensity of the uninhabitable waters I braved shortly ago—numb, wet, and cold to the touch. Before leaving and after a much-needed trip to the restroom to ring out my hair and relieve my bladder I rummaged my drawers for a presentable outfit, eventually emerging from my bedroom wearing a pair of dark-wash jeans I thrifted and a black, loose-fitting hoodie Kallie gave me for Christmas two years ago with a white undershirt. I swapped my soaked, muck-swathed sneakers for a pair of beaten-up combat boots. In an impulsive move I filled a black-and-white plaid backpack with everything I could possibly think of that someone would bring on an overnight trip. I packed a change of clothes, pajamas, my polka-dot umbrella, a crossword puzzle I hadn't messed around with in months, my toothbrush and toothpaste, a few granola bars I had lying in my junk drawer, and some shower essentials. Hopefully I'd be able to borrow a towel; it'd been a while since anything in this house was done. I picked up after myself, but I couldn't say the same for Jared or Dad. Especially recently. Our house was a mess—just like our lives.
I rubbed my hands up and down my arms as I left. I was warm by any and every physical definition, but I shook like the waters were still a part of me. My wet, tangled hair was pulled into a ponytail. My bare face, pale and exhausted looking if what I saw in the bathroom mirror wasn't a morphed delusion, had puffy eyebags and a pallor that wasn't characteristic of my russet skin. I chose clothes that were cover-all, not because I craved warmth but because of the bruises kissing my skin from underneath my prior ensemble. I looked like I had been through Hell. It gave me sad satisfaction to at least conceal the evidence of recent events, even if I still felt awful.
I failed to get Bella a change of clothes. Not out of malice, I assure you. Okay, maybe a little bit out of malice. It definitely wasn't out of forgetfulness.
I walked slowly to the driver's side of Bella's truck. The closer I got the less I could see from my place on the ground. Trucks were the nemeses of those in shorter stature—as I was sure the driver of this truck in particular's subconscious was gloating about, given I was short in stature.
The only working part of Jacob's thick head that was visible, his ear, twitched. I watched him turn from his murmured conversation with Bella and peer out over the open gap where a window screen was half rolled down.
"You get what you needed?" he asked.
I inhaled through my nose, exhaling from a pursed mouth. "I got a phone-call."
