Our new hope (Alice Weather)

Patrina tries to comfort me, and I want to let her. I want to curl up in her arms and cry, to wait this out, hide inside myself until the pain has faded. Twill carries David away, her face still ragged and hollow. She seems to be handling her pain by helping others, she is fine for a while. Katrine has Thatcher, she is crying into his chest, while he whispers softly into her ear. Patrina is strong, despite her tears now. I know she can handle this by herself, she has done it before and after all, she won't be totally alone. Magdalene falls, not crying, but staring into space. Her eyebrows are knit together, her hands trembling feebly.

"Mags. I have to help her." I mutter, brushing away Patrina's tears as I speak. I hold her hand, unable to let go of human contact, and stumble across the room to Magdalene's side. I slide down the wall beside her, draping an arm over her shoulders. She slumps against me, her freezing cold cheek pressing against my arm. I grip Patrina's hand tightly with mine, and kiss her forehead gently. I try to stop my tears, but they just keep coming, hot and fast.
"It'll be okay, I promise, we'll make it through this." I whisper, watching Twill leave David's room. She turns back to the door as it shuts, and presses her forehead against the wood. She glances sideways and her eyes meet mine. Anger flashes across her face, and she storms down the hallway, slamming her bedroom door behind her. Magdalene truly cracks then, a gut-wrenching sob emitting from her and burying her face against me. I look at Patrina.
"She blames me." I tell her, nodding towards Twill's shut door. "She should. I blame me."

I grit my teeth as people talk at me, still reeling from Patrina's words. I try to nod in the right places, but her words are ringing too loudly in my mind to truly understand what people are saying. Her fault, what the hell does she mean? My hands curl into fists as I think of how she justified Twill's actions, stood up for the girl who nearly killed her. I make a mental never to talk to my sister again. I come out of my thoughts and notice everyone is watching me. Thatcher asked me a question. I try to go back in my mind to find what he said, I remember Hana telling me about Patrina's injuries and anger pulses through my stomach again. Now I remember what Thatcher said. I look at Patrina, unsure for half a second. She is injured and now that Hana has begun to work on her, I can see how much pain she is truly in. Agony splits across my chest at even the slightest twitch of her injured arm, even the slightest pinch of her eyebrows. I look back up to Thatcher and shake my head dismissively.

"No, I am not leaving her side." I say as we get up. Hana leads us into the house and then into her personal quarters. She gestures to the bed, and we move as one and sit. It's softer than our bed, and has several blankets and pillows on it. Hana is leaning over her bureau, humming tunelessly as she gets the items to fix Patrina. I glance at Patrina and brush a piece of hair out of her face as gently as possible. I lean in to kiss her and she flinches slightly. I hesitate, not wanting to hurt her. I realize now that she has never seen me as angry as I was, and it may have been frightening.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, truly I am. I could never hurt you like this." I whisper, staring into her eyes. "Every bit of pain you feel is like agony to me." Then, watching her face for any sign of pain I lean in and kiss her.

I watch Patrina like a hawk the whole time she is being treated. She is putting on a good show, but I can see she is in pain. She ends up covering her face when Hana treats her arm and It feels like someone has stabbed me in the chest. (ooc: hehehe oh my jokes.) She squeezes my hand and I brush my hand lightly across her hair. Jolia comes inside, and climbs up onto Patrina's lap. I almost tell Jolia to go away, but Hana gives me a meaningful look and grabs my sleeve, pulling me to the far side of the room.
"Is something wrong with Patrina?" I ask, my voice rising slightly. Hana shushes me and squeezes my shoulder.
"No, it's not Patrina. I mean she's beat up sure, but she live with some bed rest." Hana says shaking her head. She glances back to Pat and Jolia and smiles slightly. When she meets my eyes again she's back to looking serious.
"Thatcher told you Twill was locked in her room but it's a bit more serious than that." She says, saying it gently like I am a frightened animal. "After you yelled at her, she kind of had a fit. She was screaming at people who weren't there. She threw some things. We tried to get her under control...and well, she grabbed Thatcher's knife from his belt and slit her wrists." She says in a rush, the words hitting me like a freezing wind.

I feel like I am falling. Into a dark never-ending pit. I can't handle this. My heart stutters and then pumps faster. My vision is blurring, and a rushing noise is filling my ears. I reach out and clutch the wall for support as my knees buckle. Hana watches me, her eyes wary.
"I've treated her as best as I can, and physically I am pretty sure she'll be okay, mentally..." She trails off and every bad thought that has passed through my mind is confirmed. My sister is crazy, my twin is dead, my fiancée is broken, and I will never see my parents again. I move slowly across the room, and fall onto the bed next to Patrina.

I try to hold back the agonizing despair that is tearing at me, but I simply can't do it any longer. My grief comes out like a scream, wrenching and inhuman. After a moment, I begin to sob, the bedding muffling the sounds. I probably sound like I am dying. I should be strong for Patrina, for Twill but I can't move, can't breathe, can't even think properly.