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And not let my doubts do the talking.

I thought time was on my side

That the end was some mystical line

One I would face when my knees grew weak

And you were as ancient as I

But time possesses no allies

Tomorrow comes, with or without you

Try to stop the pendulum from swinging

And you’ll miss the world passing you by

If my heart could speak

It would present its scars as a warning sign

To not let your words go unheard

To not rely on time to fix relationships

Because if my heart could have spoken

It would’ve said everything you meant to me

So I wouldn’t have to find closure apart from you.

Khalani let the felt-tipped pen slip from her fingers. Her journal fell next, hitting the hard ground as if it, too, could no longer endure the vocation of misery within its pages.

She stared blankly at the pristine white sheets neatly folded on the bed.

She used to enjoy sitting on the floor.

If Khalani concentrated hard enough, she could remember the soft glow in Douglas’s eyes when he first spotted her, a lonely figure eating scraps on the cobblestone streets of Apollo all those years ago.

He used to be the only person she could open up to without fear of judgment or misunderstanding.

Some people want friends for conversation.

Khalani wanted those who didn’t need to fill the silence.

But when Douglas died, he took a part of her with him.

And Takeshi…

A treacherous tear slipped from the corner of her eye.

All the losses she’d endured seemed to pale in comparison to the torment she felt now. Her skin prickled, stretched too tight, as if it might tear apart.

Khalani didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep.

She’d lost track of the days since their escape from the prison camp. The transport ride to Hermes had been hours of jarring bumps and suffocating quiet.

Brock kept glancing back at her. Khalani’s stare was vacant, her eyes bloodshot, her body swaying with the wind like an empty vessel ready to tip over.