Emmaline
i won’t let you die here
Emmaline Emmaline
we can get through this together
we can get through this together
we can get through this
together
A cold, metallic sensation begins to bloom in my chest. It moves through me, up my arms, down my throat, pushes into my gut. My teeth throb. Emmaline’s pain claws and slithers, clings with a ferocity I can’t bear. Her tenderness, too, is desperate, terrifying in its sincerity. She’s overcome by emotion, hot and cold, fueled by rage and devastation.
She’s been looking for me, all this time.
In these last couple of days Emmaline has been searching the conscious world for my mind, trying to find safe harbor, a place to rest.
A place to die.
Emmaline,I say.Please—
Sister.
Something tightens in my mind, squeezes. Fear propels through me, punctures organs. I’m wheezing. I smell earth and damp, decomposing leaves and I feel the stars staring at my skin, wind pushing through darkness like an anxious parent. My mouth is open, catching moths. I am on the ground.
Where?
No longer in my bed, I realize, no longer in my tent, I realize, no longer protected.
But when did I walk?
Who moved my feet? Who pushed my body?
How far?
I try to look around but I’m blind, my head trapped in a vise, my neck reduced to fraying sinew. My breaths fill my ears, harsh and loud, harsh and loud, rough rough gasping efforts my head
swings
My fists unclench, nails scraping as my fingers uncurl, palms flattening, I smell heat, taste wind, hear dirt.
Dirt under my hands, in my mouth, under my fingernails. I’m screaming, I realize. Someone is touching me and I’m screaming.
Stop, I scream.Please, Emmaline— Please don’t do this—
Lonely, she says.
l o n e l y
And with a sudden, ferocious agony—
I am displaced.
KENJI
It feels weird to call it luck.
