Immortals || H.S.

XXI

Tina–

I suppose the fact about the human body being connected in so many twisted and confusing ways was true. I was once told that all the living organisms’ organs are connected in a non-seen method; that when an organ malfunctions, the others do so, and the human dies. Someone, long ago, told me than when one of our organs hurts and is in pain, the others ache for it too; they face the same painful sessions it passes through… for an anonymous reason. It may be because we were created in a way where all our body parts are strangely bonded together, or it may be because pain is contagious.

In my opinion, it’s the latter; pain is contagious.

Pain is the most infectious, incurable, contagious, hateful disease in all times; it grips the victim, it breaks him apart then fixes him just to break him all over again, it crushes the soul, damages the heart, perishes the mind and tears the whole world apart for no apparent reason… and when the pain strikes in, it’s like the world is standing against you fully, not aiding you out of the abyss you’ve just fallen into, not giving you a hand or even a finger to cling onto in order to save yourself. It’s like the universe has already crossed you out of its ‘list of favorites’.

Worst part about pain is that when it hits a person, it flies among the atmosphere, and hits the people he cares about and who care about him too. It’s like pain doesn’t ever get enough, so he widens the circle of infection, include more people within the perimeter of sickness, crushes more souls, damages more hearts, perishes more minds… and tears even more worlds apart.

And that’s what has been going on in my life lately. With Markus and Adeline gone, I am the person who sees the negatives of the world and not its positives; I am the one who thinks about how the rain can damage crops and turn to floods and damage homes and tear families apart, but does not think about how the rain can also clean streets and benefit the crops in many other ways. Now, all I seem to think about is how to let the tide of death come and drag me to the bottom of the deepest oceans, just like how it dragged my parents, Mr. Beck, Markus and Ade, and many more members. I want to just lie on the beach of death and wait for my tide, doing nothing but thinking in a pessimistic way; because, as a matter of truth, optimism is overrated and hurtful.

I remember when Harry literally carried me all the way to his SUV before driving away from the ashes of my brother and aunt, dragging me away of the hellhole they had made of my family’s place, shoving me out of harm’s grip, when honestly all I wanted at that moment was to be shoved to harm itself not away from it. I remember how all he did was place a hand over where my hand was, holding onto it so tight that mine began to hurt. But, I did not mind nevertheless, for the pain in my heart and soul prevented me from caring about the pain in my hand. He looked at me once during the whole ride, and he thought I was too consumed in my thoughts to notice a tear slip from his eyes and hear his sniffles. I remember how broken and fragile I have felt, and how the feeling continues up to this moment.

The thing I honestly can’t remember is why I did not step out of Harry’s hold and ran over to where the causers of my brother’s death were; why I did not wring them to death with my own bare hands. I cannot fathom the reason behind my complying actions with Harry, and I cannot understand why I don’t feel any hatred towards them now anymore. It may be because I have been emotionally and physically numb for the last month and a half, it may be because I want nothing with the outer world anymore; I just want to die and that’s it… nothing else.

All I want ever so desperately is the end of me, and reuniting with my family… even in hell, if that’s what it takes.

“Tina?” A voice sounded near me, snapping me from my jumbled and complicated thoughts, but I did not budge; I did not jump out of surprise or even snapped my head towards the direction of the speaker. Instead, I just kept my fixated posture; arms crossed above my chest, eyes roaming all over Manhattan’s view, chest lifelessly heaving, and eyes narrowed unintentionally due to the lack of sleep and exhaustion. I did not recognize the voice because of how nonchalant I was towards that matter.