Ion Heart

Chapter 29: Waving through a Window

I've learned to slam on the brake

Before I even turn the key

Before I make the mistake

Before I lead with the worst of me

September 26th 2014: It's been a week since the training "incident". I wish people would stop calling it that. And I wish they would stop asking about it. I don't know what happened. What I  do know is that my sparks are still black and I won't train with anyone else until it stops.

Loki hasn't spoken to me. I've called but there's been no response. I really messed up. I'm sorry Loki. I need you. I really need you. 

I'm writing this late, as always. Trying to put off the inevitable is futile; he will come. No amount of coffee can change that. I've found a new word for my list. It's how I pass the time, finding words. 

Malneirophrenia ~ Feeling of unease or unhappiness that comes from waking up from a nightmare.

Give them no reason to stare

No slipping up if you slip away

So I got nothing to share

No, I got nothing to say

The city falls. The child cries. Guns fire. I'm paralysed by fear. Screams claw at my insides and the bullets rip the flesh from my bones and the zombie-like figures pull the hair from my head. Pietro stands in front of me, covered in blood. "Help me." He whispers. "Help me." But I cannot get to him. I can never get to him. I try to electrocute each dark figure, but they take my purple lightning and poison it until it turns black. I'm surrounded by darkness. "Help me, help me." They won't let go. They keep scratching and pulling and putting hands over my mouth... 

My breathing is heavy as I bring my knees to my chest. The sheets are damp with sweat. I grab a tissue from the bathroom, pressing it firmly against the scar that prickles with red specks. The pain gives me something to focus on and I find my breathing slowing down. It's four am. Time for coffee. 

'Can't sleep?'

I jump at the voice. Sparks prick at my fingertips, rising with my heartbeat.

I frown at Steve. 'Don't jump out at me like that.' 

'Why are you up so early?' He asks, folding his arms.

'I could say the same about you.' I fire back, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. I can sense him scrutinising my every movement. 

'I've heard you come in here each morning.' His voice softens. 'I know what's going on. When I woke up after the ice-'

I shoot him a look. I'm not about to spill my feelings at four in the morning. Annoyingly, he just sighs and takes the mug from my hands.  'Pietro's death wasn't your fault.'

'Did you see what happened?' I spit. 

He doesn't say anything. 

'Then you know that's not true.' 

'You did everything you could.' He replies calmly. 'Did you believe in Pietro?'

Now it's my turn not to say anything.