Chapter 37 #3
The moment I force my agonizing body onto my hands and knees, I retch again.
Already, the deeds they've forced me to commit are taking over, and any ounce of virtue I had is expelling itself. There is no coming back from this. It doesn’t matter if I make it out or not anymore. I'll never be the man I was before.
Traitor…
My ghosts appear one by one, and I'm forced to crawl between them. Their auras filter through the fictional smoke around me. I know who they are without even looking. The smell of flowers and almonds permeate through the air, proving that they’ve witnessed my downfall.
Henry is to my right, and Emma is to my left.
They slowly stride beside me as I claw my way to the door, like they're escorting me to my demise.
The woman from the bedroom is here, too.
Her skin is a bloodless pale, and her hair looks dead, like it is made of straw.
She holds the entryway ajar to push me out.
Failure…
Failure…
Failure…
They chant in wicked tones. The familiarity of those I loved fades away, and I’m left with nothing but the haunting that I deserve.
It's sticking this time. They're right. I failed them all. I didn’t notice that an incurable disease was eating away at my sister. My friend bled out in front of me, and I couldn’t save him.
Each innocent soul that that these masterminds have stolen, I could have spared.
I could’ve saved my wife from this pain, but my need to have her will be her end.
My selfishness will be her end… My mistakes will catch up with our baby as well.
I can never go home—no matter how much I want to. My love will kill them in the end.
I don't deserve such divine gifts, and this only proves it.
I'll never know what it's like to see my child being brought into this world.
My heart shatters at the thought of never holding their perfect little form in my arms, but they don't deserve to be tainted by my darkness.
I'll ruin them before they’ve had the chance to live.
I'm nothing but a hollow end to my family, and I won't subject them to that pain.
Maybe Ashia will tell our child about me.
Perhaps they'll know their father from a time worthy of spoken words.
There’s nothing I want more than to be the man my family deserves.
A husband that provides for his wife, and a father that nurtures his child.
I've always dreamed of teaching my children the good in life. I wanted to shower them with so much love and happiness that they never had to know the pain of the people I save—and of the people I’ve killed.
A perfect reality would've had my family looking to me for everything they needed and more, and now, I'm the very thing they should be afraid of.
“I can't go home either,” Henry speaks. My tears fall onto the floor beneath me, and I shake my head vehemently—silently begging him to go away.
“You didn't stop them?” Emma questions me as I cross the threshold.
My arms give out, and my head hits the porch with such force that the smack echoes into the trees.
I force myself to roll over, and a golden light catches my attention.
Ashia's face barely fights through the demons, but I can see her eyes.
They're dim now, like the brightness in them is slowly fading away, and I know that's because of me, too.
The love of my life is forced to care for a beast, and I deserve to see the destruction I've caused her.
“What have you done?” Ashia's voice whispers, just loudly enough to slip through the parade of spirits.
Suddenly, I'm jerked up the front of my suit. I fall limply backward, but I’m forced forward against my struggles. Cinque loops my arm around his shoulders, and the fear screams in my chest.
“I don't want to go…” I choke out. There’s no scenario where they won’t punish me.
I didn't do it right. I’m sure that I didn’t abide by whatever the instructions said, and now, I’m sure they’re waiting eagerly to inflict the worst possible damage.
I'll never make it out of here, and even if I do, I just witnessed what they would do to ones I love for escaping.
Fuck, I miss Ashia. I want to hold her in my arms and sink into our happy place.
Her warmth would mingle with mine, and everything would go away.
The hurt would stop. The voices would disappear.
Everything would fade away. It would be nothing but us.
They can't reach me when I’m with her, and fuck, I'm a selfish bastard, because I just want it all to go away.
A warmth covers my cheek, and as I'm forced to move away from the house, I can faintly smell her. She's inviting me home. The heat spreads throughout my chest, and even the tear that races down to my lip tastes sweeter. She's here now.
“Please, baby. Make it stop…” I beg her.
In a heartbreaking instant, she's gone, and my heart collapses in on itself.
The voices still play in the background, yelling louder than ever.
They echo through the trees around me like they plan to follow me the rest of my life, but at least the images are gone now.
I'm stuck staring at the house in front of me as Cinque moves in slow motion, carefully reaching into his pocket.
He pulls out that same pack of cigarettes as before.
Just when I think he'll continue to ignore me, he sticks two in his mouth and lights them.
As he passes one to me, I meet his stare.
His face is just as stoic and firm as before, but his eyes say something completely different.
They're drowning. It could be my mind playing tricks, but it's like I see my own in them. They roll like waves, and merge as darkened paints on a canvas. The suffering and haunted stare look all too familiar. We may not be bred from the same cloth, but we’ve been stitched together by fate’s thread.
I take in a drag, knowing that I might as well poison myself as much as the people around me, and he just turns around, like he knows what will happen.
He avoids the despair and the destruction, because he's already lived through what's to come. His scars are not only a tale of his past, but a warning for my future. It won’t be long before I’m as broken as he is, and he doesn’t even extend a hand—knowing that he has no strength to offer.
He. Just. Fucking. Turns. Around.