Consumed by a sudden, blinding, bright light, the world falls away from me with one final breath.
15
KAEL
Staring at the four walls that I now have to call my home brings me no calm, despite the privacy it offers. The soft burgundy sheets beneath me may be high in quality, but do nothing to hide the stone mattress making it impossible to even fake the environment of relaxation.
The entire room is draped in the same deep colors, from the frills that line the four poster bed I find myself in, to the overly eccentric curtains framing the window to my left. The walls are decorated with a grand fleur-de-lis pattern in a rich red, like something ripped straight out of times long past.
Despite all of the obnoxious textures paddingthe room, there's nothing to shield me from the exhaustion that weighs heavy on my limbs.
Sleep isn't coming for me.
Neither is a sense of relief.
Staring out of the arched window, it offers no sense of time since my brother continues to smother his little realm in darkness.
As I roll onto my back, a heavy sigh falling from my lips, I wipe a hand down my face, wincing instantly at the contact.
My skin is raw.
In the little ensuite my brother offered me with this room, I scrubbed at myself for hours, getting the blood from every crevice of my body, and now I'm feeling the consequences of my due diligence.
I’m acutely aware as I lie here that I’m simply another pawn in my brother's game. Yet, all I'm left with is one emotion. One I’ve never felt before. One that's taken me all night to come to terms with.
Longing.
It all starts and ends with her.
I long for her presence.
I long to see her sleeping.
I long to feel the burning rage as we argue with one another.
I long for it all. Yet all I get instead is thisridiculous room in a poorly imitated world I wish didn't exist.
My mind repeatedly tries to wander back to what could be happening if I was with her now, back at Institute Thirteen. It’s never been my home, but it represented much more than this does.
Another pang in my chest reminds me of what I'm up against here.
It's all mentally draining. There's nothing physically happening to me, but the sorrow of seeing Jenkins here and the distraught ache in my chest from feeling the pressure of lashing out at Odie continues to thrum through my veins.
Another factor in the complex equation explaining why sleep hasn't come for me tonight.
Whenever my eyelids get a little too heavy, ready for the comfort of peace, my mind re-ignites. I don’t give up, though, repeating the process, hellbent on getting some reprieve.
Aware that I could be trying right now instead of wandering through my thoughts, I drape my arm over my face, hiding behind my elbow as I let my eyelids fall closed.
The melodic sway of sleep in the distance lures me closer, but it's quickly broken by the sound of a knock at my door.
I've never been one to care about locks being in place, but here, it's a godsend. Looking down at the length of myself, I'm already dressed for the day, constantly on guard and ready to attack when necessary.
Begrudgingly, I push myself up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed before I trudge toward the door. The lock barely turns before the wood comes sailing toward me, and I'm greeted with the awful sight of Walker.
I can't decide if I would have preferred him or my brother.
At least with my brother, I know what I’m getting myself into. I know how to approach him and how to prepare for his proximity. But I still can’t quite figure out the guy before me. All I know is that I can't stand him because of the limited details I know about what he put Elodie through.
