catching smoke [d2 train]

No one came to see me.

I wish I was surprised. The truth is, I’ve probably never really belonged in our family. I was always just a forgotten middle child, happy to retreat to the corners of the rooms my siblings would all but command. Of course, our family isn’t built in the shadows, the spotlight never far from the apple of mother’s eye. And the television screens lighting up my name tonight in bright, bold letters is hardly the way this was meant to happen.

Damage control can only do so much for a dead girl. Exile is easier. That was always the threat, the consequence, the punishment. But I was always headed there anyway – what’s a year sooner in the grand scheme of it all?

So I’m left to silence and no familiar faces, sitting in the grandness of the justice building, reflecting on the past – all of that time gone in minutes, hours, days, years. Only surrounded by ghosts of girls just like me.

Again, left in the dark, and alone.

The feeling lingered, intensified, followed me as I was escorted onto the train with no goodbyes to an old life. The soft click of a door locking behind me all the finality I needed to ground me in my new reality, all of my own doing. I don’t know whether I was the first or the last one to enter our allocated carriage – didn’t stop to check who else was around as I stormed through with legs pumping, detached from my mind. The familiar thrumming of my head, my heart, reaching a peak as I slammed the door of my room and let myself breathe again.

Now, I look down at my hands and watch them shake. I dig my nails into the palms, waiting for the end.

Things are quieter. The world stops spinning, just long enough for me to take in the grey walls, the carpeted floor, the hard edges of a jail cell masquerading as a room of luxury.

Tiny meringues and cakes are laid out on a table near the wall, and I’ve inhaled three of them before I even have a chance to admire the delicate details of piped icing. The knot in my stomach loosens slightly, but something heavy still weighs on my chest. Something I can’t figure out, and different.

Loneliness feels more isolating than ever when you’re stuck in a tiny train carriage hurtling towards tomorrow at the speed of light with no control over your fate anymore.

And I think

against all my better judgement

I just really don’t want to be alone right now.

Maybe it’s not the best idea to go seeking out Silver when at least one of us has to die in the coming weeks, but – like with everything I do – I don’t even consider the pros, the cons. I just walk towards the other room, cupcakes stacked high on a teacup saucer, and knock on the door.

“Hey… are you in there? I brought some snacks, if you feel like company? Promise they’re not poisoned!”

Fuck, why do I say stupid things?