Change || The Promised Neverland

✼ Chapter Twenty: Look ✼

<< Will you continue to look the other way? >>

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

[Name] hardly noticed the way she paced around her room, eyes blank and unfocused. Trapped in the confines of her own mind, she repeated the same information over and over again.

Norman was to set to die by tomorrow night. That was the truth of their reality.

[Name] fought back tears and memories with gritted teeth, sinking into her bed's mattress with her hands pulling her head down.

It was happening again. Everything was going to hell once more. She was going to lose everything again.

[Name]'s face hardened into a glare.

No.

She's not going to take someone away from me again.

She had to calm down, and think. What were the circumstances right now? Emma's leg was broken. Norman was going to get shipped. Ray was probably having a mental breakdown.

BAM!

[Name] breathed out through her teeth, fist scraped against the wooden headboard.

Isabella had planned for this. She knew that [Name] couldn't do anything. Just like before. Back then, all she could do was give herself up and let Ray do all the work. Her grip on the pillows tightened. History was repeating itself.

She let out a sigh, falling onto her side against the bed. Something wasn't right here. Why would Norman get shipped so early? Wouldn't he be the one kid that Isabella wanted to ship at full maturity?

"...She really leaves me with no choice, does she?" [Name] murmured, pressing her face to the pillow. Her gaze trailed to the floorboards under her bedside table. "Hm?"

Her eyes widened, recognizing the loose boards.

"Oh." She smiled softly, pushing herself up. "Sorry, Marin. Looks like I'll be joining you sooner than planned."

With a deep breath, she stood up and walked to Isabella's office.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"Hold on. I'll get you some water."

Norman left the infirmary as the other kids streamed in, Thoma and Lani, in particular voicing their concern for Emma. The sound of his footsteps seemed ever more hollow as they echoed in the now-empty hallways.

I'm so pathetic, Norman thought, stepping into the dining hall. Making Emma look so devastated. [Name]'s probably breaking down right now, and it's all because of me.

How pathetic of me.

He twisted the knob of the sink.

FSH.

His eyes were unfocused, trapped in his mind like the rest of them. It was no surprise. How else would a child, especially a child at his maturity, react? His death was approaching, his friends were panicking. He was panicking.

What could he do? What could they do against their mother, stronger than them in every possible way? What could they do to prevent his death?

They couldn't. Norman knew they couldn't do anything. But still, even with the lowest possibility of life...