05-13-2016, 08:32 PM
I messed up. I messed up really, really badly. I should have gone to find Dad, should have told him Mom was leaving instead of following myself. I should have stopped Argo from going with. I didn't know how far it was going to be, not right away, but when I did I should have...I don't know, I should have gone home with Argo and told Dad, but then we would have been leaving Mom wandering through the wilderness all alone and so very pregnant. I thought I was doing the right thing, protecting her and making sure she made it to visit Grandma Oksana and back safe.
But it can't have been the right thing. It can't, because I almost got Argo killed. I should leave, I have to leave, have to get away before I hurt him again. It's my fault, it's all my fault, and I can't breathe with this tight band around my chest constricting, squeezing the air from my lungs, crushing my jagged, shattered glass heart. But I can't go until I know he's going to be okay. So I wait.
I wait, shoving the breaking parts away deep down where no one can see them. I've gotten really good at that, at hiding where it hurts even from myself when I have to. I cuddle and comfort and fuss over him, I watch him as he sleeps, and all the while I'm dying knowing what I did. It devours me slowly from the inside, consuming me bite by bite and leaving nothing in its wake.
Maybe it will erase me completely, take me out of this world, eradicate even the memory of my existence. God, I hope it does. I could undo the damage to Argo's body, undo the pain and the fear of that long walk home, undo everything I ever did wrong. And they couldn't even miss me, because I would never have been.
I paint my last trace of sunlight into my skin, holding in the dark so it can't touch Argo or Lissie, Mari or Leelee, Mom or Dad. It's mine, and I won't let it take them too. I hide it behind the role of doting, caring brother, comforting and cuddling and distracting with stories, and offering reassuring smiles any time Mom or Dad looks concerned. Don't worry about me, I'm fine. See how nicely my leg is healing? Aren't we lucky to have gotten away as safely as we did? It will all be okay soon.
Soon.
I wait until I know Argo is okay, until I know that Mom is healing and Lissie is fine and everyone is alright, or as much as can be expected after half our family almost got eaten by wolves. When night has fallen and the last of the light fades from my skin and I can't pretend anymore, I sneak away. Careful, so careful, making absolutely sure I am not followed, only stopping long enough to brush my lips against Argo's forehead, I creep out into the darkness and let it swallow me down.
I don't remember much, just stumbling blindly through the night, looking for somewhere I won't be found, especially not by anyone who loves me. They shouldn't love me; look what I do to the people I love. All my fault. Argo and Mom could have been killed, Lissie would have died too, and it's all my fault. I can't do it anymore, can't drag them down into the dark with me.
I should never have looked into angel eyes and let myself want, let myself yearn, let myself need the home she offered. I should never have said yes, should never have followed her into paradise. My fault. Paradise came so close to ruin, and it's all my fault. I will cut off the wings she gave me, the ones I so selfishly accepted, and I will fall into the darkness and let it unmake me, like it should have done a year ago.
It can't be in the Tundra, where the kingdom's magic might help Dad find me. Please don't let him find me. I couldn't bear to hurt him like that. But there are mountains not too far from the wall, beyond the reach of the frozen land that was my heaven. Mountains feel like a good place to unbecome. To throw myself into the dark, to fall beyond even the reach of angel eyes, to saw off Nevi's wings and let the nothing reclaim the rest of Neverwas.
It feels like a heartbeat is all that passes before I am standing at the edge of the earth, looking down on the world from a mountaintop as jagged as my heart. But the sun is breaking over the distant horizon, reaching closer, closer, almost touching my face. I should fall. God, I should fall before it reaches me, because I do not deserve the light. I don't deserve the way it will caress my cheek, kiss my brow, warm the skin it touches and try to sink deeper, try to chase the dark back down into the cracks in my heart.
I should jump, should fall through the sky and shatter this wretched body on the rocks so far below. I close my eyes against the break of day, my body starting to shake as I drag in a last deep breath, and gather myself to leap. But that breath was just a little too long, and I can feel the light touching my face, can see it trying to pierce through my tightly-closed eyelids. I know I don't deserve it, know I shouldn't give into the warmth seeping into my skin just like I should not have given into angel eyes coming to rescue me so long ago.
But I am weak.
I fall, but only to the ground beneath my feet as the last of my resolve gives way beneath the gentle touch of sunlight on my skin. I'm not strong enough to do what's right. All I can do is lie in the sunlight and sob, pouring out the guilt and the shame of my mistakes, spilling the weight of my failure onto the unforgiving rock, shedding sorrow like rain.
It is hours before I can find the will to move, to drag myself back down the mountainside and stumble home, utterly exhausted. I hate myself, knowing I wasn't strong enough to jump, knowing I'm not strong enough to stay away even though I can only destroy the beautiful gift they have given me. I can only taint paradise and turn it into a place of darkness and pain and misery. But I can't make myself stay away. I tried. God, I tried. But I am weak. And I am so very weary.
I need to see myself reflected in angel eyes. I need my mother to hold me and tell me it's okay. That I can be forgiven, even though I don't deserve it. Even though I'm broken. Even though I am ruin. So although it is the last place I should go, I pass through the gap in the towering ice wall; I should stay far away, but instead I just keep placing one worn out limb in front of another until my empty eyes find her in the distance.
Mom. I need you.
I don't have it in me to hide anymore. I should keep it all locked away where it can never hurt them, never touch them, but I have nothing left to hold it in. I can't quite make myself take those last steps, though, can't bear to fill the space between us with pain and let it reach out and sink into her. So exposed out here, so naked and vulnerable where anyone can see. I can't. I can't. The caves aren't far, and I retreat instead, collapsing against the cool rock wall of my favorite hiding place.
I just want to be done. No more shadows trying to consume me and swallow down everything I am. No more light blinding me, laying me bare and shining on all the jagged, broken pieces of my patched together heart. One step, one little step and it would have been done. I would have been nothing, would never have been able to hurt them anymore. One step, and I could have come undone. But I am weak. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.