Here. [Nell day 7]

nell cyprus



“Of course she can do it again.”

I hear his rasping voice, hardened from scotch and screaming, over and over. Over and over. In Aeternum. And I did. I killed again, like he said I would, like he knew me. Like he knows me. Maybe he does. Maybe he sees himself in me in ways less tangible than our nose. Maybe he knows my darkness intimately, as he knows his own. I pass through another airlock, “I’m not surprised,” and I want to do nothing but scream, and to drown it away in vodka, and -

Spit catches in my throat and I stand still. Ways less tangible. I blink. Roll lips between teeth. Let my lungs fill with dry, bitter air. When I exhale, I push it all from my chest, push the darkness from every hollow, from every hole.

I wish that I could see it, the cold darkness expelling from my body, so I could have proof, proof that it was leaving, that it was gone. Maybe if I saw it leave, I could fool myself into believing it would never come back. That’s a stupid thing to believe, and I’m not stupid, but still, I wonder. I wonder what would happen if I did scream, rearing my head back and tearing the vicious noise from my throat. I wonder if it would bounce off the high ceilings of the lab, echoes turning into false others, so I could pretend that I’m not alone in this place. Or maybe it wouldn’t, maybe it would just float off into space and die like everything else here does.

Because dying is all anyone is good for these days. Dr.Eams would probably say that that’s cynical and untrue. But what does he know? Has he ever shot someone in the face? Does he know what it’s like to smell burning flesh from that close; to watch a boy’s eyes melt out of his face like candle wax? No, I don’t think he does. He smelled like bacon. I don’t know if I’ll ever eat breakfast again.

I stumble across Jefferson the koala on the edge of the garden. It's slouched against the trunk of a eucalyptus tree, shoving leaves into its mouth. I walk closer. It turns. Gives me a big ole smug koala grin in between mouthfuls of leaves.

"I hate you," I tell the koala.

It just looks at me with those big eyes. It probably didn't even care that Dusty was dead. That Cedar was dead. That everybody I gave a fuck about in here -

"I HATE YOU!" I scream at him again. The koala blinks at me, slowly. It's cold. Almost as cold as outside on the cable bridge. I want to bury my face in his soft warm fur and never let go.

If the koala were smart he'd run away now. He doesn't know me. Just like Cedar, and Leet, and Airplane, and Dusty, and Sky, and everybody else I've gotten close to and destroyed. Dr. Eams tells me that no one deserves to be lonely, but that's not true. He didn't really know me, either. He wouldn't think that if he did. He must've changed his mind, if he saw me kill Cedar.

The koala lets out a loud burp and reaches for the tree branch again. If he were smart he'd run away. On the other hand koalas probably aren't very smart.

I try to drown out the animal’s incessant chews from my ears as my legs give out under the atlas heaviness of my tattered body and heavy guilt, falling crouched and doll-like upon the cold moss and intricate undergrowth below.

The shrubberies tease my calves and, for a moment, I am grateful for the sensation because it means I could still feel, it means this numbness in between my bone marrows has yet to permeate everywhere. But, I can feel the numbness too and it makes lying upon the garden terraces feel as though I am sleeping in a hearse, buried under earth and wildflowers. The quietness is a comfort nevertheless; I hear the silences in between and inside the empty places of this world, the ones that stretch out unendingly. Closing my worn eyelids shut, I let myself sink further down this silence, this absence of everything frenzied and cacophonous.

The first thing I hear is the world around me, as if I am an intrinsic coil in its well-tuned machine. The rustling of the leaves above my head and the hymns the violets chant become resonant in my being. Then, as I dig deeper inward, prying open the veins and the muscles, I hear Dr. Earns' voice, the scowl on his face reflected as clear as sin in his words. But, there’s a sound underlying all of his hideous syllables and I reach for it, wholeheartedly, fingertips clawing at it in desperation, breath ensnared in my throat.

It’s the drum of my heartbeat—loud and rebellious, as steadfast as a river current, as ruthless as my own hands.

You are alive, it murmurs.

You are alive, it screeches.

You are alive, it reminds.

Shut. The. Fuckupppp.

Nothing stops the drum of my own heart. I want to split apart the flesh and expose the muscle and break the bone. Leave a mangled corpse for the capitol and show the rest of the world that Nell’s just like the rest of them. Except I’m still alive. Twenty gone and I stand at the edge of a set of butterfly bushes, heart pounding in time. It’s all so fucked up, empty as it is, with me. It was how things were meant to be, me alone and broken, but – I never imagined it all at once, heavy. Hard.

If I was strong enough to be here then I should be strong enough to go on. But I’m a terrible fucking liar. I don’t think I was made for half of this but here I am as part of the dregs. Fuck. I ball both of my fists together and clench my teeth so that my jaw starts to hurt. And I let out a deep breath and take in another because I know it’s all building up, breaking apart like a rocket taking flight but I’m so fucking tired I just want to scream.

It all gives way.

The anger, the sound. The weariness. My knees fold like someone’s kicked out both the back of my legs and I’m there on the ground, hands by my side. I open my mouth and no sound comes, more a choking, rasping emptiness. Like a part of me’s been cut out and taken. I put both hands on my knees and tilt forward, head low.

It’s a goddamn miserable world. One I got no business being a part of. But I’m here.

I’m here.










ooc:

In honor of all the wonderful members who didn't have the opportunity to write in the badass spaceship arena. Special thanks to Goat, Charade, Lyndis, Griffin, Zori, and Kaitlin for contributing their writing/time/love to this post!!! It's been really fun reading other people take a crack at nelly belly <3