Set me Free {Dee}

[knuckles]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: 0A0B09; border: 4c6778 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 50px 50px;][atrb=width,300] I silently shut the front door behind me. I don't want to wake my father up. This is the first night since the accident that he hasn't been passed out drunk on the couch. He may be passed out drunk in his room though. I shake my head forcing the thought to go away from me. I don't want to think about that right now. He promised he would change, and I can only hope that he listens. If he breaks the promise he made, I'll be shattered. I hate when people break promises. As soon as my feet touch the muddy ground, a small chill runs up my spine. The sun bares down on me warming my entire body to the bone. The warm air gently pierces my body causing me to feel hot all over. I instantly start sweating. I've been outside a whole minute, and I already feel like I'm roasting. I take a deep breath looking around not wanting anyone to see me. I want everyone to leave me alone. I have my plans, and I'm not going to let anyone ruin them. I don't want anyone to ruin them. I need to visit my mother and my brother. I need to talk to them about everything that has happened recently. I need to tell them I'm sorry. I walk from my house into the streets. They are crowded. I missed my chance to leave earlier. I missed my chance to walk through the abandon streets because I slept later than I planned to. Mother will understand. She'll understand I overslept, but I still have to visit her. I walk slowly through the crowded streets. I'm being shoved all over the place. I'm being shoved left and right unable to control myself. The muffled sounds of people talking with one another pierce the sky around me. I wish this curse would move it's hands from my ears because I want to hear better. I want to hear the world as I heard it before the accident. I carefully walk through the crowd looking for the turn off to the trail I always take. Why are there so many people out right now? Shouldn't they all be inside trying to keep cool? I ask myself. Normally, I would already be back home sitting in my room staring at the empty bed. The bed belonged to Kelton, my twin brother. It's no longer occupied though because he's dead. He's never coming back. He's with my mother. Both died because of me. It's my fault they are gone. It's my fault so many people died that day. It's my fault many families were destroyed. I wish I would have listened to my mother. Maybe they would all still be here today. I mixed the chemicals together. I caused the explosion. I caused the curse that I live with. I caused it all because I was too dumb to listen to my mother. I turn off the crowded street onto the narrow trail I always take. This trail takes me by the place of the accident. It's the only way to get to my mother and my brother though, and I must see them. I constantly fear walking by the ruins of the chemical factor I blew up, but somehow I always find the strength to move on. I believe my mother and my brother walk beside me through the mess causing me to ignore the trauma that is involved with the area. I wish they were really walking with me. It would make this so much easier because I wouldn't have to feel the pain that haunts me anymore. I take a deep breath as I turn another corner. My heart starts pounding rapidly under my chest. My breathing becomes labored and shallow. My hands start shaking violently by my side. The world around me starts spinning. The ground becomes waves. I can't keep my balance because the waves are knocking my feet out from under me. "Mommy, can I go to the chemical factory with you?" My voice echoes in my head as I fall to the ground. I close my eyes wanting to scream. Tears form in my eyes. "As long as you don't mix the chemicals, you can go with me." The flames dance before me as I'm thrown backwards. I can feel them dancing on my torso. Relax, it's not real. This is fake. Calm down and relax. Go visit mother and brother. They are expecting you. I take a deep breath and roll over on the ground calming myself down. I take slow deep breaths in my nose and out my mouth. I force the tears in my eyes to go away. I'm too strong to be crying right now. I can't cry in the open for everyone to see. I bring my knees to my chest as I stare off into the distance. If I look hard enough, I can see my mother and my brother smiling at me. It's like they've never left, but reality slaps me across the face leaving a mark in my already shattered heart. The pain is unbearable. I rest my head on my knees. I miss you both so much. I wish you were here. I'm sorry for what I did. I'm so sorry. I should be the one dead not you all. You both should be alive. Please forgive me. Narration 7C8573 Thoughts B8C2AE Hearing 5A6860 Speech 565D28 Other C5C7B8 Credit goes to Cass for this lovely table <3

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900 words

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 454E50; border: 021924 solid 0px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px] It was warm outside, hot even, and yet Shiori liked feeling the heat and sun’s rays on her pale skin. She padded along the streets of District 6, smiling at everything from the buildings to the sky. Despite it being summer, her mother had handed her extra homework that was to be finished by the end of the day each day but I have already finished a half of the homework and the day is still young. Having grown accustomed to the extra homework, Shiori decided that time outside of her house was a good idea, despite her preference for reading some of the graphic novels hidden in her dresser. A soft giggle escaped as she blushed at the thought of those works. Her parents would never have approved the material for it was so raunchy that Shiori often had to cover up the nosebleeds that almost always happened. This is so silly. Stop blushing! She shook her head, trying to remove the scandalous thoughts so she could focus on spending the afternoon outside. There were only few places she would walk to on a daily basis, and although she often played it safe, her friends had mentioned a place that was worth looking into. Rubble crowded the plot despite the incident occurring a while ago. It was as if no one wanted to forget—and for good reason. Shiori still remembered when it was the only news the citizens of District 6 would talk about. So many families lost a member that day, and it was the first time Shiori had seen them so struck. They had known some of the workers at the chemical factory, despite their disinterest in chemicals, and even Shiori could recall some of the names mentioned as family friends who would have dinner with her parents every now and then and play with her while her brother showed off his new invention. They had said it was caused a worker who had haphazardly mixed some of the chemicals, causing a strong reaction, but no one would give Shiori more information about the cause. They wouldn’t tell her what chemicals had been mixed, who had caused it, or why they would even do that. All they ever told her was that there had been one survivor, a young boy. She wanted to know more, would have begged for more answers, but once her parents told her that that was all she would need to know, she backed down and never talked about the incident again. If only she was allowed to inspect the building herself, but she knew better than to step across the invisible line that pushed her off the grounds. Perhaps some other day, I’ll bring myself to look into it. With a last look at the destruction, Shiori turned around and walked off. It wasn’t until she walked down a smaller road that she found him. A boy from the looks of his structure, but he was curled up so Shiori couldn’t be certain. What captivated her attention was his very light hair, a light blond that Shiori swore was also white. But he didn’t look old either as his exposed skin showed very few wrinkles. Taking a small step one after the other, Shiori tried to see if she could catch his attention without having to say a word. She was never one to speak up, especially after all the times her parents told her that she was to be silent. However, it didn’t appear as if he noticed her so she opened her mouth a little bit before pausing. What was she supposed to say? She didn’t want to appear too forward or creepy, yet she wanted to make sure that whatever condition he had wasn’t unmanageable. Otherwise, why was he sitting on the ground? “Uhm, are you okay?” she squeaked out, her wide eyes still on his hair. If anything, he looked a lot like some of the characters in the graphic novels she kept hidden. Was that why she had approached him? He didn’t look well, but it wasn’t so much of a physical ordeal but a more mental or emotional one. “Do you at least need help off the ground?” The ground to her was too dirty for someone to have enjoyed sitting on it; surely, he would feel the same way as well? The most Shiori was able to do was give him a smile as she wondered why he was even there in the first place.

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[knuckles]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: 0A0B09; border: 4c6778 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 50px 50px;][atrb=width,300] The world continues to spin around me. My mind racing with scenes from the accident. All the innocent people that were killed died because of me. I don't know how I survived. I was the only survivor, and it makes me sad. I should be the one that died. It should have been me, but I'm alive and everyone else is gone. I killed my own mother, and my own brother, and I live with a curse. I try to get myself together, but it's hard when the ground is moving underneath me. The dirty ground covering me in dirt, but I don't care because I've been through worse. I just want to sit here forever, but I have to go see my mother. I spend every morning with her. It's the closest I can get to her ever being alive. I rock myself back and forth trying to block the images from appearing in my mind. The images haunt me sending chills up and down my spine. I was so stupid. I caused all this. I messed my life up, and now I have to pay for it. Sweat drips down my face falling into my mouth leaving a bitter, salty taste. Tears form in my eyes threatening to fall down my face. My hands tremble at my side. I'm unable to control them. I try to keep my eyes closed, but it's a mistake in itself. I can hear the sound of the explosion ringing through my ears as I stare at the ruins of the building. I immediately bring my hands over my ears. "Run!" I scream at the top of my lungs. The inside of my throat burns. My breathing picks up rapidly. My torso burns underneath my clothing, but I'm terrified to remove it. I'm terrified to show everyone around me the scars that cover my abdomen, and my chest. I don't want anyone to know I was the one that survived this because they may hate me over it. I don't even know why today is any different than any other morning. It's just hit me hard. I don't understand why this slaps me in the face today. I've walked past it many times. I grab a hold of my pants to stop my hands from shaking. My whole body shakes. I'm drenched in sweat. My shirt shows how much I've been sweating. Someone may think it was just from the heat. “Uhm, are you okay?” A female voice breaks through the air. I open my eyes carefully trying to keep myself calm. I look over at her wondering if I've ever seen her before, but she doesn't look familiar. I only leave my house every morning to visit my mother and my brother, and on the reaping days because it's mandatory. I don't really talk to anyone. The last person I talked to was reaped, and is currently in the games, but the games are too painful for me to watch. Am I alright? No, I'm not alright. Should I tell her I'm not alright? Should I tell her I'm alright? I don't want her to know I'm not alright. What if she finds out I caused the explosion? I just stare at her unsure of what to say. My eyes face towards the ground as shame rushes through my body. "I-I-I-I'm al-al-alright I guess." My voice is extremely hoarse, and along with the stuttering, I feel terrible. What if she doesn't believe me now? Will she question me? I just want to go visit my mother. Please just let me go visit my mother. I takea deep breath and try to calm myself down. I'm still unable to look at her. I place my face in my knees wishing it would all go away. I wish this would all be a dream that never happened. I want to open my eyes for this to be fake, but I know it's real. I know when I open my eyes, this ruined building is going to still be there. I sit silently with tears rolling down my face waiting for her to either answer me, or go away. I'm not sure if I want her to go away though. I want a friend I can talk to. I want someone to understand me. I want someone to not want me to change because this is me. I'm broken. I'm shattered and ruined, and I doubt I'll ever be fixed. The scars that I live with go much deeper than the surface. I pick my hands up and run my fingers through my hair gently. “Do you at least need help off the ground?” The muffled sound of her voice catches me off guard. I'm comfortable, but I do need to stand up. I need to get up to continue on my way. "Yeah. I can use some assistance." My voice cracks reminding me of the curse I must bare for life. Narration 7C8573 Thoughts B8C2AE Hearing 5A6860 Speech 565D28 Other C5C7B8 Credit goes to Cass for this lovely table <3

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[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

[atrb=style, background-color: 454E50; width: 500px; padding: 15 0 0 0px]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 454E50; border: 021924 solid 0px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px] He was staring at her, and Shiori could only stare back. It didn’t seem like he was deaf since he had responded to her voice, but was he mute or did he just simply not want to talk? Shiori did not feel incredibly uncomfortable in the situation, aside from the fact that she had never experienced an interaction like this one, and she took the time to just stare at his hair. She couldn’t bring herself past the fact how similar it looked to the male characters in the graphic novels she read, and she was already trying to figure out which character he could play as. She also noticed that there was no recognition in his eyes, just like there probably wasn’t any in hers. Shiori didn’t believe him when he said he was alright; there was too much stuttering, too much hesitation, and he sounded like he hadn’t had a good drink of water for days. She watched him look away from her as he seemed to curl up even more. What was he trying to protect himself from? Her? But she didn’t pose any threat to him, or at least she felt that she didn’t. Tears were rolling down his cheeks as the silence permeated the air with no indication of leaving. It was as if Shiori could see the gears that were working in his mind and she just wanted to keep looking at them. Her eyes followed the hand that ran through his hair, her mind still on her graphic novels. How did he get a texture so fine like that? She didn’t have time to keep thinking about it as he asked for some help off the ground. It made Shiori smile a little bit, knowing that he was responding to her. She didn’t count the first response; it was too shaky to have been considered a response. Shiori bent down a little to grab his arms, one hand for one arm—that is how it works, right?—and tugged, all the while pushing up with her legs. It was something she had overheard from her father when he was talking to her brother, something about using the legs to help lift. Though, was it meant for people or things? Once he was standing, Shiori looked at his upright figure. He was tall, much taller than her small frame, and yet he was not big. At first, she had likened him to a character because of his hair, but now she saw he had the build to fit as well. She stuck out a hand, and introduced herself. “I’m Shiori.” She then tilted her head to look at him differently. “Why are you so sad?” Rustling through her pockets, she pulled out a piece of cloth her mother had given her in case she had to hide her embarrassment. “Here,” she said as she handed him the piece of cloth.

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[knuckles]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: 0A0B09; border: 4c6778 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 50px 50px;][atrb=width,300] Sweat rolls down my face dripping silently to the ground. My mind is numb not allowing me to do anything. It's telling me to lay down on the ground and stay there forever, and honestly, that sounds like a wonderful idea. The memory fights to stay in front of my eyes, and I try to be strong to fight it away, but it won't budge. The screams of people burning to death echo in my mind causing me to bring my hands over my ears. The ball I'm curled up in grows tighter each second. The smell of burning flesh fills my nose causing me to start coughing. It's the worse smell in the world, and it's not happening. It's all a memory. A memory that haunts me. The sounds of the screaming grows louder, and I know I'm not going to be able to control myself much longer. The longer I sit here, the more pain surges through me. A hand reaches down and grabs a hold of me and starts pulling me. "Mommy, I want to go with you. Please let me go with you?" I remember begging to go with her. She didn't want me to go, but I begged by tugging on her, and she finally gave in. The hand pulls me up into a standing position. The world spins around me. I'm a top that's spinning really fast unable to see anything that passes by. I have to hold my arms out to keep myself from falling over. I look over to see the girl I looked at earlier. I was hoping she would leave because I don't want her to see me like this. I don't want anyone to see me like this. Tears are rolling down my face. My eyes are bloodshot from crying so much. My cheeks are puffy and red. I've been like this since the accident. Usually I can be strong, but today isn't one of those days. “I’m Shiori.” She introduces herself while she stares at me making me completely uncomfortable. Doesn't she know staring is rude? There must be some other reason to why she's staring at me. She's being kind to me helping a stranger off the nasty ground. She holds out her hand, and I stare at it unsure if I want to take her hand or not. "I'm Kryptonite." My voice is still extremely hoarse. I try to clear my throat to make my voice less hoarse. The noise sounds terrible, but it causes me to grin just a bit. "Kryptonite Zei." My voice is still as hoarse as ever. I gently take her hand and give it a small shake. Shiori keeps staring at me making me wish I wouldn't have responded. I could have laid perfectly still pretending like I was dead. “Why are you so sad?” If only you knew. I look down at the ground unable to keep eye contact with her. How do I explain it to her? Is it possible? Did she have any family that worked there? Did she know anyone that worked there? Will she run away and tell the peacekeepers it was me? Can I tell her I was the one that survived without her raising questions? What about my mother and my brother? My mind starts racing frantically. My breathing picks up rapidly. I'm afraid to talk to her. I don't want her to know why I'm sad. I can't tell her. I can't tell anyone what I did. Nobody needs to know it was me. I survived it. I live everyday knowing it was my fault so many people died. Children lost their parents. Wives lost their husbands, and husbands lost their lives. Families were broken because of me. I want to run away from her. I want to go visit my mother, and my brother. I don't want to be here anymore. "Here." She hands me a tissue. I take the tissue and wipe my eyes trying to get the tears to go away, but I know it's pointless right now. "I miss my mother and my brother. They've been gone a couple years. My brother, he was my twin. I stare at his empty bed constantly wishing he was there, but he's gone. He's never coming back. I can't walk down the street to see him. He's under the ground. My mother is gone. I'll never hear her voice anymore. I'll never be able to hug her. She'll never be able to wipe the tears away from my eyes. She's gone forever. They both are gone forever. So many people are gone forever." My voice cracks as I speak. The burning I felt in my throat when my torso was caught on fire happens again. The raspy sounds of my voice haunt me. I don't know what to do anymore. "I was going to visit my mother, and my brother, but I walked by this." I point in the distance at the ruble of a building that once stood. The chemical factory that I blew up. I mixed the chemicals together that killed so many, but I can't tell her that. I can't tell anyone that. I can't even tell that to my own father. It's my secret. A river flows from my face flooding the ground around me. "You can go with me as long as you promise to not miss the chemicals together." My mother's voice echoes through my head. I try to keep myself calm, but it's not easy. I shift my weight slightly trying to keep my shirt down. Trying to hide the scars that cover my torso. I look at the ground again unsure of what to say or do. I'm probably going to scare her off. I shouldn't have said nothing, but she doesn't know I was the one that caused it. I don't want her to know that, and unless she asks, I'll never tell. I don't think I'll tell her if she asks. I've lived with the secret for this long, and I'm not about to share it. I'm sorry mommy. I'm so sorry. I should have listened to you, but I didn't, and now I'm cursed for life. I have to go on living without you, and I'll bare the scars forever. I miss you. I'm sorry. Narration 7C8573 Thoughts B8C2AE Hearing 5A6860 Speech 565D28 Other C5C7B8 Credit goes to Cass for this lovely table <3

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[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

[atrb=style, background-color: 454E50; width: 500px; padding: 15 0 0 0px]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 454E50; border: 021924 solid 0px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px] Kryptonite. What a nice name, Shiori thought as she shook his hand. She noticed how he never looked at her in the eyes—was her staring making him feel uncomfortable or was the question she asked? Waiting for a response, Shiori’s mind went to the element that his name must have been based off of. Krypton; atomic number 36; thirty-three known isotopes, six of which are stable; chemically unreactive. How strange it was that a boy whose name seemed so stable was so broken. He took the tissue from her and wiped his eyes, but the tears were not slowing down and finally he started speaking again. He was talking about how he had lost his mother and brother, and how much he missed him. What caught her off guard was how little she could sympathize with the boy talking about his pain. She was lucky enough to still have her mother, father, and brother, but she had never thought that she was lucky. She thought it was normal, a fact of everyday life that a family would always remain intact until aging or sickness took them away. Was that how he lost them? He wasn’t being very specific on their deaths, but Shiori assumed that it was just too difficult to talk about. She heard him say that he stopped at the site of the factory on his way to visit his mother and brother. It only made more sense that he had lost his mother and brother in the factory explosion, and it still haunted him even after a few years. Shiori thought she could see guilt in his face, but he seemed to be so broken apart that she wasn’t certain about her conclusion. She noticed how he was fidgeting and still looking down at the ground. She was not a very social person in the first place, but she knew that only a troubled person would be showing signs of wanting to escape while still talking. Not knowing what else to do, Shiori took a cautious step in his direction before giving him a hug. It made absolutely no sense for her to hug him, but he just seemed so sad that it also made complete sense. He must have been hurting so bad that he had collapsed in the middle of the street. How was it even possible to cry so much? Emotions should not have crippled him to this point, and yet he was so obviously connected to what happened to the chemical factory that it was overwhelming him. So hugging him made the most logical sense in Shiori’s mind. It was weird; it was awkward. But she remained like that for another few seconds before she stepped back and looked at the spot where the chemical factory once stood. “I’m sorry about your mother and brother. I’m sorry about all those people who are gone. I’m sorry that you have been crippled by this loss.” Was this sympathy or was her apologies too blunt? She didn’t even know how she was supposed to offer comfort. And maybe she wasn’t supposed to. Maybe comfort wasn’t what Kryptonite needed at the moment. But if that was the case, what did he need, and why was she there?

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[knuckles]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: 0A0B09; border: 4c6778 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 50px 50px;][atrb=width,300] I stand there holding my ground trying to stay on my feet. I'm weak and vulnerable. I'm trapped within myself unable to move. It takes every ounce of strength I have to not crash on the ground again. My heart pounds rapidly under my chest. My insides twist. I'm terrified she's going to find out I did it. I'm terrified she'll run to the peacekeepers and tell them. I'm terrified I'll be executed for the mass murder that happened. I keep my eyes pointed towards the ground unable to look at her. I don't want to look at her because I don't know what to do. I'm afraid she'll look past my eyes and see the guilt I bare within. The guilt that overwhelms me on a daily basis. The pain of it burns within my chest every breath I breathe. My chest becomes tight causing me to feel like I'm suffocating. An elephant must have just sit on my chest. I can barely breathe. I can barely think. I can barely move. I lived. I deserved to die. I deserved to die. I don't deserve to be here. I can't live like this anymore. I raise my eyes up and look at her. I wait for her to respond. I wait for her to run away from me like everyone else. Everyone runs away from me not knowing what to except. I'm a monster within the District. There's a reason I only want to leave the house in the mornings before everyone is awake. I don't want people to see me. I don't want people to see the breakdown I have most mornings. The muffled ringing grows louder in my ears. I want it to stop. I want this all to stop. I can't just stand here and watch the factory explode over and over again. The image is embedded permanently in my mind. I can see this girl, Shiori standing in the explosion. My mouth drops to the floor as my hoarse voice breaks the silence. "Run!" I place a hand over my mouth trying to calm my raspy respirations down. It's hard to think. If she doesn't move she's going to die like my mother. I keep looking at her, but she walks towards me instead of running. Her steps are slow like she's afraid of me. It's nothing new though because everyone does this when they are around me. My stomach twists around unsure of what to expect. My heart leads the race in my body as it runs away from me. The world spins faster around me. I want to run away. I want to escape. I want to go visit my mother, but I wasn't raised to be rude. I was raised to be polite. My mother taught me respect, and I didn't respect all those people that day. My feet shifts under the weight of my body as I wish she'd understand. I just want to continue on my way, but something keeps my feet glued to the ground. My legs are heavy like lead, and I don't have the strength to move them. What is she doing? I ask myself as she places her arms around me embracing me in a hug like my mother did when she was still alive. I can smell the scent of my mother surrounding me. The scent overwhelms me causing me to smile. I look up and momentarily see my mother standing in front of me instead of Shiori. I want to speak to her, but I can't find the words to say. My heart breaks inside me as I see the skin that's melted to her body. The clothing she wore isn't noticeable. The scars that cover her face sends my body into convulsions. The sweet scent of my mother turns into the scent of her flesh being burnt off. I want to push myself away, but I'm stuck unable to move. My mind refuses to tell my legs to run. "You disobeyed me, and now you will live with everything you did forever." Her voice echoes in my mind repeating itself over and over again. I open my mouth to speak but no sounds escape past my lips. I'm trapped gawking at my mother. “I’m sorry about your mother and brother. I’m sorry about all those people who are gone. I’m sorry that you have been crippled by this loss.” The voice is kind. It doesn't belong to my mother. It doesn't belong to me. I shake my head trying to figure everything out. I look up, and it's Shiori. She's the one that hugged me. She's the one that's been standing here with me. Not my mother, Shiori. I take a deep breath allowing more tears to flow from my eyes. She's sorry about it all. She doesn't even know it all. She doesn't know the events that went on when I killed lost my mother and brother. She doesn't even know half of it. I can feel anger surging through me. I try to keep myself calm. I can't blow up on her she's just trying to be nice, but I feel like she's slapped me across my face. I can feel the invisible hand print forming on my face as I stare at her unsure of what to say. I don't want to hug her back. I don't want her to be in my life, but I do hug her back. I wrap my arms around her and place my head on her shoulder and start sobbing loudly. "I hate that you have to see me like this. I hate that I'm standing here trapped like this. I hate myself for allowing you to see me like this. Every morning I relive the pain that haunts me. Every morning, I force myself to go through this pain so I can go see them." My hoarse, muffled voice echoes around me bouncing around inside of my brain. I shift my weight uneasily as I push myself away from her. Don't tell her. Don't tell her it was you. Just shut up before it's too late. Run away from her. Just get away. She doesn't need to know. The longer you stand here, Kryptonite, the more questions she'll start asking. My brain screams at me to get away, but I ignore it. I'm not going to be rude. I'm not going to leave her hanging since she's been kind enough to help me. "I'm sorry for bothering you. I'm sorry that you are standing here watching my mind melt. I'm sorry for everything." I hope you don't hate me like everyone else does. Narration 7C8573 Thoughts B8C2AE Hearing 5A6860 Speech 565D28 Other C5C7B8 Credit goes to Cass for this lovely table <3

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[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 454E50; border: 021924 solid 0px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px] How long had she been staring at him like an experiment of hers? And yet she felt no discomfort as she tried to understand what he was so sad about. She couldn’t sympathize with him; she had not experienced a loss of family members as he had, so she instinctively viewed him as an experiment, an exploration into a topic she was not biased in but could research on. Plus, she was just so distracted by his hair—how did he even get it to look like that? If she had any choice, she would have placed her hand on his hair and examined the texture as well. She knew that it would have been appropriate for her to do something like that, especially after she had given him an unwarranted hug. And he made it obvious as he stared at her back. Shiori knew she was supposed to feel strange that he was staring at her for so long, but she didn’t know what that feeling was as she tilted her head and watched him. The tears still had not stopped and it didn’t seem like Kryptonite was going to do anything about them for the time being. Wondering if that meant she was supposed to leave, she was distracted by the movement from the other boy, what seemed like the first voluntary move since she had spotted him. It took her by surprise as he wrapped his arms around her and started crying on to her shoulder. The only time she had seen such an embrace like this was in her comic books, but it was always a boy hugging another boy. She didn’t understand what was happening at that moment. When he started talking, Shiori didn’t know how to react. He sounded in pain, as if he was battling something he had yet to conquer. What could she do to help, though? She was smart—her family was known for their intelligence and she was near eclipsing her brother’s intelligence—but she had no idea how to comfort someone, especially if all she could think about was his hair. She turned her head slightly to see that his hair was just oh so close. If only she was able to—but he pushed himself away from her before her other hand could reach his hair. Quickly, she retracted her hand to her side in time to hear him apologize. What was it her mother had said? Never let the others think it is their fault. Always make it seem like you are the one to blame. Thrown into a frenzy, Shiori bowed quickly and when she was back in a standing position, she lifted her hands as if to apologize. “No, it is I who should apologize. I shouldn’t have disturbed you. I am the one at fault here.” Shiori took a step back as if to step away from her error, and she kept her head down just as her mother had always instructed her. "Please accept my apology. I have done you wrong." Would he accept her apologies? Or would he just keep crying as they stood there? She went against her mother’s words and took a peek at him, to see if he would run away. She had difficulty reading expressions, and all she could see were the tears running down his face and the agitation that seemed to fill his body.

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[knuckles]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: 0A0B09; border: 4c6778 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 50px 50px;][atrb=width,300] I can remember the first day I walked through here. The pain I felt was almost unbearable. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run away. I didn't want to go through here, but it's the only way to get to my mother, and my brother. I spent days searching for other ways, but I was never successful at finding them. I spent hours trying to find ways to go around, but every trail I took always brought me back to here to the place I hate seeing. The place full of pain because I murdered everyone inside of it. I survived. I shouldn't be alive. I should be dead like the rest of them. I shouldn't be walking around. I should be buried six feet under the ground like my mother, and my brother. Why was I the only survivor? Why did I have to live? Can't I just die like the rest of them? I can't die because I have to be here for my father. I don't understand what's going on. I want to run away, but part of me is staying here. I want to tell her what happened, but I don't know how she will react. Is it possible to scare her away with what I did? Nobody knows I was the boy that survived except my father. Maybe she'll understand. My mind races with thoughts as I wipe the tears away. My eyes burn from all the tears that have fell. Snot drips out of my nose falling to the ground. My checks are red from the crying. I feel like I could throw up from the snot that I have swallowed. I look up at her as I step back unsure of what to think. I don't want to press her farther than she has to. I shouldn't have even talked to her. I should have just walked away, but I had collapsed on the ground. I was on the ground sobbing like a baby. Maybe I am a baby. She bows her head when she starts talking to me. It confuses me. I've never seen anything like this. I don't know what to do or think, but it confuses me. Her voice is polite, but I don't like what I hear. She's apologizing. She's telling me it's her fault. It's not her fault. She has no idea what she's talking bout. She's not the one that is alive when everyone else is dead. She's not the one that caused the pain I live every day. It's not her fault. It's not even close to her fault. No, I will not let her take the blame for something I did. I will not allow her to do this. I don't even know what she's doing. I keep still and continue listening to her as she talks. "Please accept my apology."Don't say it. Just stop. "I have done you wrong." Something inside of me snaps. It's not her fault! This was never her fault. She didn't do anything wrong. I can feel anger surging through me replacing the pain that I felt before. I can feel my hands trembling at my sides. I grip my pant legs to keep my hands from balling into fists. I try to keep myself calm because I know she doesn't mean any harm, but the words she spoke sliced right through me. The words was a flaming whip wrapping around my body over and over again. I crack my neck trying to will the anger away. Don't do anything stupid. She's just trying to help. She's not meaning anything. Just stay calm. Take a deep breath and relax. "It's not your fault." I mutter under my breath. "It's not your fault! You have no reason to be apologizing to me! I should be the one apologizing to everyone out there. I shouldn't be alive. I should be dead like my mother and my brother. I should be dead like everyone else that was in the factory that day. It's not your fault they are dead! It's not your fault!" Tears start flowing down my face again as my hoarse voice cracks. My breathing picks up rapidly. I bring my hands up to my head running my fingers through my hair trying to calm myself down. I don't want to scream at her. I don't want to scream at anyone. I just want her to understand that it's not her fault. I try to wipe the tears away, but it's not going to work. Nothing is going to work. Nothing is going to work. "Please, don't say it's your fault because it's not your fault. You have no idea what it's like living everyday regretting what has been done." I lower my hands to my side. My entire body shaking from the anger that's surging through me. I lower my gaze to the ground because I'm ashamed to look at her. I'm ashamed to have anyone see my face. I don't deserve to be talking to her. She should find someone better than me to talk to because I am a killer. "I survived, and I don't know how. I'm alive, and everyone else is dead. It's not your fault. You didn't cause any of this. Don't blame yourself for something you didn't do." I was always told to never blame anyone else for something I did, or blame myself for something my brother did. I hope this works in this situation. The next thing I do without thinking. I lower my hands to the bottom of my shirt to adjust myself slightly. My eyes widen as I drop the shirt back down. "I should be dead. I shouldn't have survived. I should be dead like my mother and my brother and everyone else." Narration 7C8573 Thoughts B8C2AE Hearing 5A6860 Speech 565D28 Other C5C7B8 Credit goes to Cass for this lovely table <3

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