It's been a while, people. How have all of you been? Personally, life was hell for the past month and a half. Don't live in the best of environments, both personal and environmental. But I've(hopefully) bounced back a bit emotionally. Although this chapter says the exact opposite...
Don't worry about that! Life is fine for now, and I hope you all live well. Hope you enjoy the chapter :)
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"…and so he left, with everything but his humanity." - ???, Risk of Rain
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People say that when you're near-death, your life flashes before your eyes. Every single mistaken or flawless action you've made in your life rushes by at a pace you usually wouldn't be able to fathom, yet somehow do, as if time slows for only you. People believe this is because it's your consciousness attempting to rid itself of all the memories you've ever had. No, not rid; accept. One last fleeting hope that, maybe, after their body dies, they may have a better life ahead of them, wherever that may be.
Alexandra didn't care anymore.
Strange, how a single instance, just one event, can switch someone's state of mind so swiftly, as if their previous emotions had never existed at all. Stress, anxiety, fear, hate, sadness... They constantly build up, breaking even the most stoic of existences. But every break has its origin and conclusion, acts that start and finish the creation of a wound that never heals.
The start? Long ago, elementary years. All she wanted was a happy life. Looking out the window, she'd see the gardeners tending to the front yard garden, their surprisingly joyful smiles as they continued to care for the plants. After all, one of those gardeners had once said something to her:
"Any life on this planet should be treated with care. You see these?" He asked her, a rare moment of peaceful conversation between the two without someone breathing down her neck. "They're called 'Brugmansia.' They're beautiful, right? They look like the dress of a princess from a fairy tale." His smile never wavered as he reached out to touch them, a hairy hand gently brushing the beautiful petals. But on the hand that touched it, a rash had already started to form. "You see what happens when you don't treat it with care? It lashes out, just like humans. It's a living being that deserves respect. Treat it with care" He continues, rubbing it with a gloved hand now "and it won't hurt. Not even a little."
As she looks down at her malnourished body, ribs poking out as if the skeleton inside wishes to free itself, Alexandra pushes herself off the chair and onto the ground, beginning to crawl her way to the bed which she's slept for most of her pitiful life. Sick, yet with nobody to care, she reaches up, attempting to drag herself onto the bed, clawing at the sheets as if they're a rope leading out of the pit of despair in her heart. Reaching the top, though, she spreads out her limbs, each joint cracking from bodily mistreatment. In her final moments of consciousness for the day she reached out to the heavens, asking: was she a living being?
No answer came.
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Why do I exist? What is my purpose? I should just-
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The finish? Many years later, on a day where she was, for the third time in her life, happy. Her mother and father were driving her home from private school, after finally fighting back against those that had hurt her in school, a far cry from the once gentle, emotionless human she once was. It was the first time in her life that she made her own decision and, even though her parents were livid, she smiled away, finally gaining the courage to defend herself. Granted, she hurt the girl far worse than she should have, but in some far reach of her mind, that made it all the better for her.
1 breath. That's how long it took for Lucifer to happily destroy her joy.
From somewhere under the front seat, an explosion burst out from under Alexandra's mother, chunks of deceased flesh flying everywhere. Her father was shot out the side of the vehicle, door flying off with him. And, depending on one's point of view, Alexandra got lucky. Laying down in the very back, a row of seats in front of her in the now-charred SUV blasted back towards her. They crushed her, and she felt something go slack as she was forced further back, pieces of shrapnel piercing through the thin top of the now-upside-down front seats, but not the bottom, thanks in part to its robust construction. The side of her body was surprisingly numb, as if nothing happened at all as she lay there, feeling as if unable to do anything.
Eventually, after just 7 seconds, the car had finally stopped, the seat falling off of her roughly. Feeling as if she could barely breathe, with adrenaline crashing through her body, she eventually escaped the fireball of metal after rolling out of the rear window, glass shards imbedding themselves in her tender, charred side.
Blurry eyes looked back to see nothing, because she barely could. Every time she blinked, though, a little more vision would flow back, until eventually, although blurry, she eventually gained back her sight. She didn't know how long it took, but even if she didn't know it, the time didn't matter, as the fire had already sealed her wounds, though the glass still caused bleeding.
Vision regained, she focused on the road in which they came from, only to see a hole in one of the buildings, her father's lifeless corpse inhabiting it.
Even after all the years of abuse concealed as training, orders concealed as trust, and disgust concealed as care, her two torturers were finally gone... Though they were still her family...
She couldn't decide whether to laugh in sadistic glee or cry in anguish. So her subconscious decided for her; nothing. No hate, happiness, sadness, fear, anger... Just empty. And that was all she felt as she crawled away, not a single pedestrian around, as their cowardice consumed them, manifesting as they dashed away from the scene.
Alexandra didn't care anymore. Let all the misfortunes fall onto her, and she'll just accept them with neither fear nor joy. After all...
Her mind was already corroded.