Chapter 44 #3
I ran through the Silent Woods as if a thousand demons were on my heels.
Thorns and dry branches pierced my feet, but I didn’t care—I was numb with desperation.
A thin sound like a whistle filled my ears in the terrifying silence, like an alert, a warning.
What if it was too late? From the hospital to here was a thirty-minute walk.
Running cut it to fifteen. Adele already had a twenty-minute head start.
My heart pounded frantically in my chest, reminding me that hers might be stopping at that very moment.
So I sprinted through the trees, pushing my body beyond its limits, leaping over streams, taking the shortest route even though it was full of obstacles.
As I moved, desperation and anguish flooded through me, but it also felt like déjà vu.
I was running through the forest, my hair whipping wild and tangled around me.
I steadied myself against tree trunks, and my fingers remembered this rough sensation; the soles of my feet knew the earth instinctively.
I’d never done this before, never had the freedom when I was a slave, but I felt like I’d been here before, like I’d run through forests just like this.
I fell a few times but kept running until I saw where the stream ended, plunging into a waterfall.
The moon hung enormous on the horizon and the freezing wind roared around me.
I stumbled out of the trees, my eyes frantically scanning the area.
Then I saw her.
At the edge of the precipice, Adele swayed in a lethargic dance, as if dancing with death.
The ringing in my ears grew more rhythmic, but it was still there, drowning out my thoughts, underscoring my desperation.
What could I do? What should I say? What would be the right thing, and what might push Adele over the edge?
I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself so I wouldn't gasp audibly.
She wore a hospital gown, and the wind whipped her hair along with the thin fabric. The moon bathed her white hair, making the pink tips shine even brighter.
I approached carefully while my mind ran through possible plans to intercept her and pull her away from the edge. I didn't get very far. As if sensing me, she turned toward me, her back to the precipice. A drugged smile played on her lips.
“Hello, loser,” she said, taking another step toward the edge as I took another step toward her. She was right at the brink—one more move and she would fall.
“Hello, Adele.”
My heart pounded frantically in my chest while she smiled, tenderly touching her bare arms. I tried to think of something to say to distract her.
“I wanted to tell you a story. Why don't you come over here and listen?” I didn't wait for an answer. I took about three steps forward. I was three steps closer, but still about ten away.
She laughed again, but her eyes locked on me.
“I don't want to hear stories, I want to forget them,” Adele whispered, sliding her fingers across her chest and up to her neck.
A tear slipped from my eye. She must have been numb from the morphine and happy at the possibility of relief. I knew that sensation: death's embrace was the most delicious thing I had ever felt. When everything was pain, death seemed like a balm.
“I know how it is. When Zion found me in the forests, I just wanted to feel nothing too,” I shouted over the wind, my fingers already purple from the cold.
Adele looked at me with a vague glimmer of interest.
“I always thought you were a savage. I was right all along.”
She slid her fingers along her neck, throwing her head back in delight. I seized her moment of distraction and took two more steps.
“I was a war slave.”
Her eyes widened and stared at me in surprise. Then she laughed again.
“Don't think your story is like mine. You have no idea what it's like to be in my skin.”
She stared at me like a dragon eyeing an intruder in its nest.
“No. I'm not judging. I have no idea what it's like, but I know it hurts. I know that right now you don't see any point in continuing, but I guarantee life can surprise you if you give it one more chance. There are people who care about you—they'll give meaning to your days.”
“Shut up,” she shouted, losing her balance at the edge. My heart must have skipped a few beats. “There's no one for me, there never was.”
“You have a younger sister. I know you love her.”
Understanding crossed Adele's eyes, but she froze the feeling.
“I don't care. I can't keep existing in the same place as him.”
The wind almost swallowed her words, but I managed to hear them.
“He's not coming back. Serguei is taking care of that,” I said, moving a little closer. Her smile faltered, then suddenly widened in understanding.
“Serguei? Oh! That's perfect! Let him make the bastard pay,” she sang. “If you can, tell Serguei to punish him for eternity.”
“You can tell him yourself. We can call him and you can tell him what you want them to do.” I took another step forward and offered my hand, extending it carefully so as not to startle her. “You're the one in control now, Adele.”
“I am,” she whispered, caressing her cheeks. “My body is mine and my mind too. I'm taking control, and I've already decided what to do with it.”
She opened her arms, and my heart went into free fall. Without thinking, I took another step toward her.
“No one, ever again, will take my control.”
“I can help you, Adele. Don't do this—I'm a loser and I made it. You can too. I won't leave you alone.” I waved my outstretched hands in front of her huge gray-blue eyes.
“You're ruining my perfect night.” Her arms were open like wings. “Why don't you shut up and just watch the show?”
“If you give up now, everything you went through will have been for nothing. You've already won this war, Adele.”
I took two steps forward, and that's when something changed in her expression. Her eyes became as glassy as a frozen lake.
I felt my heart sinking as, with arms open, she slowly threw herself backward.
“I won.”
Those were her last words.