Page 82 of Ravaged Soul

Hopelessness isn’t all that familiar. Sure, there were plenty of times in captivity when my situation felt bleak. Inescapable. But if I’d allowed myself to wallow in the defeat, I never would’ve survived. I had to shut that voice out to keep going.

Disassociate. Bury.Survive.

Now there isn’t an ounce of strength left inside me to hold the floodgates at bay as the bathroom dips in and out. Defeat infiltrates my last conscious seconds, bringing that soul-crushing despair into sharp focus.

I can’t fight this any longer. Not as my whole body tenses and spasms, a thick layer of sweat soaking into my spasming limbs.The bathroom ceiling flashes bright-white then fuzzy darkness invades, but in the involuntary surrender comes silence.

At least I’m out of sight.

No one can see my weakness.

The vast, empty expanse of nothingness is a welcome break. Pops of colour shift. Shadows morph before the black cloak returns. Pain ceases. The shaking stops. I don’t have limbs, fingers or even toes to feel the discomfort caused by the seizure taking hold.

I’m floating, untethered and numb, while time ceases. Free at last. An untethered balloon testing how high it can climb before the atmosphere causes its exoskeleton to rupture. Only I can’t break when I’m already shattered beyond repair.

“Easy, sweetheart.”

Who…

“Come back when you’re ready. It’s okay. You’re safe.”

No.

Voices don’t belong in this floating nothingness. Not even that ridiculous, aristocratic drawl. This is wrong. I don’t know why… or where I am… But no one is allowed to be here. It isn’t safe. I can’t let them see me like this or they’ll surely leave me.

“I’m here with you.”

Through the mental blackout, a flicker unveils glistening emerald eyes. The scent of peppermint cuts through my confusion, wrapping me in an embrace.

“You’re not alone, Ember.”

So many times, I wished for my brother to hold me tight. During countless, terrifying attacks. Sprawled out on bloodstained concrete. Petrified and utterly alone. I longed for him to appear like a guardian angel hovering just out of reach.

But he never did.

And now… he’s unable to.

Something soft penetrates my mental fog. A feather-like brush against my skin allows sensation to sluggishly return. With it comes blistering pain that’s too much for the darkness to contain. Lightning splits the blackness behind my eyelids, the strobes scalding my retinas.

Cold sweat suspends me in a frozen prison, each limb still locked tight in total paralysis. A pained keening fills my ears. It sounds so broken. So afraid. Like a wounded animal caught in a trap and forced to gnaw its own leg off.

“Sweetheart… Fuck, I’m shit at this. Just breathe. You’re going to be okay.”

The sobs rattle my bones and bring my awareness back to the burning that slices through the core of my being. The sound isn’t distant after all; it’s echoing inside my skull, bouncing from throbbing bone to bone.

Wait… I’m the one crying. It’s my dry throat smarting. My lungs gasping for air. My arm being rhythmically stroked. This is my failing body, wracked by fiery needles penetrating my skin to drag me back down to Earth.

“Breathe,” the voice croons. “Come on. You can do this.”

“T-Tom,” I whimper.

“No, Ember. I’m sorry… It’s only me.”

“Who…”

When my vision clears, the emerald eyes that shine with love and care inside my head are replaced by midnight-flecked obsidians. Pitch-black hair that looks like it has been urgently shoved from his forehead unveils worried grooves in his skin.

Tom isn’t here. I’m squinting up at a familiar, cocky criminal with the kind of smile that causes wars to break out. And he’s touching me.A lot.Calloused fingers smooth over my skin with a welcome coolness.