playing pretend / Flynn & Nanette { day 5 }

n a n e t t e .




I'm a soldier
Wounded so I must give up the fight
There's nothing more for me, lead me away
Or leave me lying here

My hand is tight on Flynn's wrist, my vision blurred from the tears that had formed. I don't stop, I don't let go, until I can no longer see Silk in the distance. The smoke around us seemed to thicken, shoving itself down my throat, suffocating me. Though maybe it was the panic that surged through me that almost made it impossible to breathe. Hands on knees I pant, I try and force the air into my lungs, I try to remember how to breathe.

Everyday I could see that she was in pain. Everyday I had asked her to hold on for me, to fight. And she had, each and every time, smiling and reassuring me that she would fight with everything she had. For me. She would suffer for me. Suffer a terminal illness just because I held onto some childish hope that I could save her.

The tears begin to fall, I still can't breathe.

I needed to calm down. I needed to focus. But my mind was spiralling, I was spiralling. Had I of just let her go when the doctors told me for the umpteenth time that she was going to die then she would not be at home, suffering not only because of the cancer but because of me. Watching as I was shot at, has my blood spilled from the gashes in my neck, in my chest. Watched as I was murdered.

I was light headed now, my vision spinning. I needed a distraction. And I needed it right now. Grunting I stand up straight, my hand pressing into the gaping wound of my neck. Instantly I am consumed by an angling pain, one that brings me to my knees. I take a deep breath, hissing through my teeth. Then another breath. And then I gulp down another, my panic exchanged for pain. My body goes rigid as I try to breath through the pain.

The pain eases slightly move to sit on the ground, my knees bent my arms wrapped around them. I press my forehead against my knees. "Flynn," my voice is small, laced with pain. "Flynn... Do you think that I am a monster?" My eyes close and I can see Saylors eyes and the hate in them as he promised that he would never be like me, as though there was nothing worst than the thought of becoming me. I remember the softness in his gaze as he looked to Silk, the girl who had murdered without batting an eye lash the day before...

And yet...

He had looked at me with repulsion.

"I- I am, aren't I?" I look up at him, cheeks damp with blood, with dirt and with tears.

Sound the bugle now

Tell them I don't care

There's not a road I know

That leads to anywhere