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Courage lies in baring yourself to the universe.

Khalani stared at the ceiling of her prison cell, where cracks formed rigid, disfigured patterns. When she squinted, the cracks seemed to shift and flow like a chromatic swell of water—shades of green, blue, and even red. Images from her mind reflected on the ceiling, and a soft smile played on her lips.

Ah. There it is.

The aurora borealis shone on the rocky surface, cascading and effervescent, blanketing her soul in serenity. Just like in the book Winnie gave her, but this time, it was her own creation.

The sound of approaching footsteps disrupted the vision, and the image faded away. Khalani sat up, her heartbeat racing as she waited for a guard to pass. When familiar blue hair appeared, a pained smile spread across her face.

“Hey, stranger.” Serene held out a small plate of food with a grin.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Khalani croaked, struggling to her feet.

A full day had passed since she left the medical ward. Takeshi dropped her off at the cell without a word and hadn’t returned to check on her since. She wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad sign, but given what little she knew of him, it was likely the latter.

Serene’s eyes widened as she looked closer at Khalani’s bruised face. “Wow. Good thing you can’t see yourself.”

She snorted and walked to the bars. “That bad, huh?”

“Like an experiment gone wrong.”

Khalani nodded to the plate. “What’s that?”

“Oh.” Serene squeezed it through the bars. “Bon appétit.”

Khalani eyed the contents warily. She was pretty confident a worm moved in the slush. “Yum.”

“I didn’t leave you completely empty-handed. I managed to steal one.” Serene pulled out a small slice of bread.

Her mouth instantly watered at the sight.

“You’re shitting me!” Khalani snatched the bread and almost forgot to inhale, she chewed so fast. “Thank you,” she mumbled with a full mouth. She didn’t mind that the bread was stale and cold. At that moment, it was the best thing she’d ever consumed.

Serene nodded at the wounds on her face. “How you holding up?”

“It hurts, but I’ll be fine.”

“I know, but…are you okay after what Dana did to your picture?” Serene hesitated. “I’ve never seen you so mad.”

Khalani froze. The harrowing image of her parents ripping apart repeated in her brain. Over and over. She wanted to punch something. The cell bars. The wall. Anything with physical form.

“How did she get into my cell?”

“I talked to Derek. We think it happened the day Dana got assigned to clear out the toilets.” Serene’s lips set in a hard line. “They gave her a temporary pass to each cell on the block.”

A knot lodged in her throat.

Dana must have been looking for the papers Charles gave her, but she’d already given them to Winnie. She glanced at her bed, thinking of the poetry she kept hidden underneath .

Was nothing of hers safe?

Serene read the direction of her thoughts. “It won’t happen again.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I overheard Takeshi talking with Dana after Adan and Derek carried you back to your cell. It wasn’t pretty,” Serene said.

Khalani’s brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

“He told her that if she tried pulling a stunt like that again, stealing from another prisoner’s cell, he would have the Warden reassign her to surface duty. You should’ve seen her face, Khalani, whiter than a ghost.” Serene grinned.

Khalani fiddled with her fingers, lost in thought. It made sense. Takeshi had to ensure thievery wasn’t permitted in Braderhelm. That was the only logical explanation.

“I don’t understand why she’s had it out for me. She thought I was getting in her way with Captain Steele, whatever the hell that means.”

“Wow.” Serene’s eyebrows raised. “Makes so much more sense now.”

“What does?”

Serene whispered through the bars, “Dana’s trying to get close to Captain Steele so he can help her escape. Some of the other prisoners have tried, and their punishments were brutal. She must think you have the same plan.”

“Does she actually think that will work?” Khalani gave her an incredulous look.

“Of course not.” Serene scoffed. “But prisoners here will do anything, and I mean anything, if they think it will help them escape.”

Escape. No prisoner had ever escaped Braderhelm Prison. The meaning danced around the confines of her mind like a fleeting bird, long extinct.

The alarm rang, and Serene glanced away in disappointment. “I gotta go. Try not to die before I see you again.”

“Thanks, Serene. Would I be a bad person to say that I’m sad and happy you’re in Braderhelm?” Her own honesty bewildered her.

Serene’s eyes lightened. “If you are, then that makes me a bad person too.”

Khalani wasn’t fond of physical affection. She hated giving hugs like she was allergic to them, but she wished the bars would disappear.

In another world, she would hug Serene for all the times she stayed when Khalani was surrounded by herself for too long. In another world, they would be free.

But the only place freedom resided in was dreams. And in death.

***

Khalani practically ran up the steps to the library after she received the go-ahead from the doctor to return to her shifts. Her knuckles rasped against the door, and she let herself in at the soft sound of music. A masculine voice, dripping with melancholy, sang over the player.

Despite her reservations, Khalani’s mouth churned up. She missed this more than she realized. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she breathed in the aroma of books and the gentle warmth of the library.

Winnie sat at the rusted desk, her back facing Khalani. She was huddled over a decrepit black journal, the fragile corners of the book cracked and folded in.

How old was that thing?

Khalani squinted at the new selection of books on Winnie’s desk. The titles were barely visible: The Great Gatsby, Gone With the Wind, Pride and Prejudice.

She frowned. Strange names.

“Hey, Winnie,” she said.

Winnie gasped and threw the journal up in surprise. The black object fell to the floor in a heap, and Khalani reached down.

“Here, let me grab that for you.”

“No!” Winnie yelled, hastily grabbing the journal. Winnie’s face went pale as she clutched the book to her chest. She turned to the record player, turning down the volume. “Goodness gracious, Khalani. You almost scared the cave lights out of poor Winnie. ”

Khalani raised her palms warily. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Winnie. I finally got assigned back here. Did George tell you why I couldn’t make it?”

The rigidness in Winnie’s muscles eased with each gulp of air she took. She tucked the old journal in a drawer. “Yes, my dear. George told old Winnie. Horrible thing that happened. Are you okay? Winnie can make you some tea,” Winnie offered with concern in her eyes.

“I’m fine, Winnie. Promise.”

Winnie’s shoulder’s sagged in relief. “Thank goodness. Winnie was so worried about you. She’s delighted you’re back. The book is going along quite well. Winnie hoped to test your ear with a few pages, see if the wording flows.” Winnie gave her a warm smile.

Khalani glanced over at the drawer Winnie hastily put the journal in. The fervor of Winnie’s reaction took her by surprise. She’d never even seen her move that fast before.

“Winnie, if you don’t mind me asking, what were you working on when I came in?” she asked nonchalantly as Winnie pulled out the typewriter.

Winnie paused for a moment, and Khalani noticed the slight tension in her shoulders.

“Don’t worry about it, dear, just writing down my old collective thoughts. It would no doubt bore you.” Winnie swatted the air and turned quickly to her typewriter.

She was lying.

Khalani knew it. She could tell by the slight tremble in her hand and the lower pitch of her voice. Why would she lie about a journal?

Maybe it was just a diary or something, she thought, trying to explain the weird encounter away.

Khalani turned to the books on the desk. Her finger traced along the cover of one of the thick novels. “ Gone With the Wind ,” she repeated.

Winnie swiveled to Khalani with a gentle smile, all traces of discomfort gone. “One of Winnie’s favorites. You should read it.”

“Is it an instruction manual about dealing with wind on the surface? ”

Winnie bent over and nearly choked with laughter as Khalani stood there with a bewildered expression.

“I’m sorry, my dear. I’m sorry. It’s just funny how we think books are all instruction manuals or history lessons.” Winnie wiped a stray tear from her eye, still chuckling. “The story is about love and strife, based in a time long before the Great Collapse. A classic of their day.”

Her brows furrowed as Winnie excitedly handed Khalani the heavy text. “But what’s the purpose if it’s not teaching anything?”

“Sweet girl, the purpose is about life.” Winnie’s raised her hands in emphasis. “These books aren’t meant to train or give a history lesson. They are meant to stir the mind and the soul. To immerse you in the wonders and hardships of love, the most powerful force in the universe,” Winnie concluded with a smile.

“That’s not the most powerful force.”

Winnie tilted her head to the side. “What did you say, dear?”

Khalani traced her fingers over the gold writing on the cover. A deep weight rumbled in her chest, forming a lump in her throat. All it took was the thought of them.

Gone, like the wind.

The most powerful force wasn’t love.

“It’s death. That’s more powerful.”

Death came for all and spared none. Death was more certain than life. Her assured demise hurtled toward her at full speed, faster than a bullet.

Her thoughts shifted to Takeshi again. What possessed her to ask him for help if the inevitable ending was the same? She couldn’t stop what was coming. Why should she even fight?

What was the point?

Winnie clasped her hands together, staring at her white knuckles as if they held unwritten answers. The silence extended. She was the first one to break it.

“You know,” Winnie said, “Winnie used to have a daughter.” Khalani’s head snapped up. Winnie had never mentioned a daughter before.

“Her name was Sarah,” Winnie’s soft voice echoed through the room, and everything ceased. Like all that existed in the world was Winnie’s story.

“Winnie didn’t plan for it. She would run off at night in secret with a nobleman. Because of his wealth and influence, he couldn’t be seen with someone as poor as her. But Winnie didn’t care. She was in love. When Winnie learned she was pregnant, she was overwhelmed with happiness. But he left her without even a goodbye letter once he found out.

“Winnie cried every night. Alone. Scared. She wanted to get rid of the baby. Give it to someone else to take care of because it was the object of him leaving. But then, Sarah was born. Her feet were so small.” Winnie’s lips tilted, and her eyes teared up.

“Winnie counted each finger and each toe, and she was in love with every one of them. Sarah was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The love was instantaneous. Like Winnie’s body was made to love her. The emotion was so intense, so overwhelming, like the devotion would swallow Winnie whole. Those few years Winnie had with Sarah were the happiest of her life.”

“What happened to her?” Khalani asked anxiously.

“She got sick.” Anguish bracketed her eyes. “Winnie took her to the doctor. He told her the infection was spreading to Sarah’s lungs. Winnie didn’t have enough money for medicine, and they sent her home. Sarah died in her arms that night,” Winnie’s voice broke.

Tears formed in Khalani’s eyes at the sheer sadness and unfairness of it all. Winnie was someone who was made for color. For light and happiness. She wished she could bottle her pain, throw it at the wall, and destroy the hurt. But nothing could erase that.

“I’m so sorry, Winnie,” she whispered.

“Do you want to know why Winnie still smiles and keeps going?”

Khalani nodded, her chest rising with shallow breaths.

“Because the dead don’t want you to die with them,” Winnie stated. “Love transcends space and time. It holds no bounds or limits. Dear girl, love is stronger than death because if you love someone, they can never truly die. Sarah lives on. In me. And your parents live on in you, too.”

Khalani’s hands trembled as her head bowed. She tried to contain her emotions, but the burden was too overwhelming. Her failings, torments, and regrets weighed down on her frail body like an endless stone slab. It was too much.

A sob escaped her mouth. Another. And another, until the sounds of her cries resounded through the room, and she nearly crumpled to the ground.

And then strong arms wrapped around her, holding her up. “It’s okay. It’s okay, sweet girl,” Winnie whispered continuously, gently rubbing her hair.

Khalani buried her face in Winnie’s shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. She gripped her tight, holding on for dear life.

If she could cry out to the heavens and tell her parents one thing, it would be that she was sorry. She was so sorry for not telling them to stay home that day. For not showing them how much she loved them. For hating them when she was left alone. For giving up, year after year. She was sorry for wanting to die.

Khalani had been alone for so long. Her youth had been stolen, and every ounce of pain and suffering had piled high at her feet, with no one to lighten the load. No one had been there to hear her cries or to tell her it wasn’t her fault.

Before Braderhelm, Khalani had been a walking machine. Wound up to march without direction, purpose, or conviction.

She thought her life was over when she was sentenced to prison. But something prevented her from giving up. She didn’t understand before—the pain and misfortune were worse, the agony remained, but the suffering wasn’t what mattered.

She had changed.

The transformation had begun the moment she opened Douglas’s book. Poetry introduced her to a world filled with art and rapture, showing her the beauty of embracing the fall and defying adversity. Poetry showed her things worth fighting for, surviving for.

Her heart, so broken yet full, threatened to spill over daily with the missing pieces. Every inch of her body ached for her parents’ touch and their voices. Like any moment, she’d explode in a raw spectacle of feeling. She didn’t believe anything could describe the depth of those emotions.

For how can words encapsulate the universe?

Because it too is infinite.

It’s the one power that can tear you apart and reconstruct you all at once. The pure sentiment will have you rage at the world one moment and stand on her highest peaks with wonder and awe the next.

To love is to go on.

That is why she asked Takeshi to train her to fight.

Her impartial existence extinguished and erupted into something so much more powerful. Khalani clutched Winnie tighter as the force of her emotions burst out of her chest like a tidal wave.

And Winnie never let go.

When Khalani returned to her cell that night, words flowed from her body as if they were embedded in her skin. She wished she could shout them into space and expand along with it, for eternity.

Monster in Me

There lay wounds in me

Open scabs, bleeding marks, decrepit lines

Possessing transparency with the weight of mountains

Pressure cascades down my spine

Like drops of wax as the candle bleeds

Did you know the monster was me?

Voices cry and tremble like the earth

Trampling hopes while honoring doubts

I became fluent in every form of fear

All my bads are timestamped and memorize d

All the goods of me are blotted and erased

Did you know the monster was me?

You will never be

Good enough

Loved enough

Strong enough

Twisted phrases and malicious lies

Quickly turn to wicked truths

I strike the words of destruction

I do it to be first

I do it to be worse

Did you know the monster was me?

The might of me relinquished the throne

Defeat sank me to my knees

Shuttering my gaze for the final blow

Until I heard a distant cry

Ferocious fights raged and something kept me alive

Death knocked and I peered into his face

He balked and scattered at the sight

Did you know the monster was me?

I outlived all my worst days

Survived every lonely cold night

My eyes open for all those that are closed

The voice within my voice stirs

Shouting truths that lay in waiting

These bleeding wounds encompass a story

Of someone stronger than steel

And more fearful than death

I clench the sword of life and bellow out

You’ll remember the monster was always me.