Page 16 of Rising

There were nights where Jax and I lay awake the whole night, talking about the good times in the past, how our lives had been. How we probably would have never crossed paths in real life. Each conversation leading us to realize our lives couldn’t have been more different. We were different people then, and that had shaped our personalities now. Forcing us to be compatible for the sake of survival. We stopped there most nights, because it only led to thoughts on how odd it was that such a precarious situation could lead to something more.

We rarely spoke of the hard times, the bad times, the times of desperation, the sadness. All the bad from The Before and the time that led up to where we were now. Then, I guess. Past tense.

He’s gone, you idiot, and he’s not coming back.

I broke at that thought once more. I didn’t have time to grieve in the past. So now I would grieve for them all, as if Jax was the final stick holding the dam together.

My fingers started to shake, and my heart fluttered, imitating a hamster running, spinning on a wheel just under the skin of my chest. Every part of me became porous, feeling clammy though a cool draft had begun to enter my room through a window Prescott had cracked open during his stay.

I could no longer think. Felt as if I was sinking into an endless hole and my fingers couldn’t quite grasp the edges to pull myself back up. Flames erupted around my bed as I lost control over my magic, only making me panic further. Tears streamed down my face as I begged my mind to find balance. Begging it to focus will myself into a place of neutrality.

I wanted to scream for Prescott to come back. For anyone to hear me. But the words vanished on my lips as I thought of the repercussions of someone running in to calm the damn General. The one person that needed to be calm in the face of uncertainty and loss, the one responsible for the calmness and lives of over a thousand men and women.

My mouth dried as I crumpled into the fetal position on my bed and let the tears roll from my face. A groan of pain rooted deep in my chest escaped and I let myself wail. The wails slowly turned into gasps, which led to excruciating minutes of hyperventilating. Trying to take every bit of air the world and my body would allow me to ingest.

I refused to give up on myself, on my mind. Refused to submit to the sorrow and heartbreak of all those I had lost.

I failed.

My body released all that it had, and I fell into a deep slumber.

Amaia

Iawoke to my cold and dark sleeping quarters. The tan stone was barely more than a shadow as my eyes adjusted. My limbs felt stiff, unused from not leaving my bed in over a week. Two weeks since Jax’s funeral, lost in my mind, drifting in and out of sleep as I made my way through my books. I had only left three times the week before.

The first attempt to convince myself a run would help. The second to actually make itonthe run, after the first attempt had resulted in me turning around as the second one too many eyes fell on me. And the third, well, I ran until I physically couldn’t anymore, and under the cover of darkness Riley carried me back.

Tomoe and Reina had been in and out around dinner time each night, trying to coerce me to eat and engage in light conversation. Reina had even snuck in a few nights to sleep at the edge of the bed, hesitant to take up the side that was Jax’s. I’d left it untouched and made aside from his pillow which I often used to settle into my own space, a way to smell him without disturbing his closet that I wasn’t yet ready to intrude.

A few times I’d awaken to presumably Prescott or Riley in the chair, pulled next to my bed. Feeling their presence more than anything, I was too lazy, too unmotivated to roll over and see who it was. Both had always been more inclined towards silence, they’d wait until I was ready to speak. Seth peeked his head in every other day, not doing more than giving me a quick glance over, making sure I was breathing before closing the door silently.

My thoughts swirled around, a never-ending cycle of despair and hopelessness. Not remembering the last time I felt anything but numb.

I willed myself to turn over in bed and face the window, the stars bright in the sky through the heavy cloth curtains. I couldn’t bring myself to get up, to face those out in The Compound, either working a night shift or taking a stroll before bed. The endless responsibilities that were certainly waiting for me to make motion on. It all felt so … suffocating. Clawing at my throat, I begged my brain to cut me a break, to let me breathe.

Tears burned my cheeks, dripping off my chin as I lay there, once again feeling the heaviness of the lack of weight on the other side of the bed. I’d spent years trying to be strong for my people. And now, I couldn’t even find the strength to do a simple task such as getting myself out of this bed. It’d taken Jax’s death for me to realize I had reached the limit of my strength.

I suppose it had been building up for a while. Been the reason I’d started drinking again in the wake of the recent attacks and herds that appeared to be targeting The Compound, breaching the borders I’d spent ages ensuring were secured.

There’d been some time when I’d stopped once we’d settled, not completely, but ‘socially’ as Prescott had put it. Said there was no need for me to drown in my sorrows when there was now hope for the future. At the time, I had been inclined to agree with him.

Spent years determined to see all the positives in life that Prescott and Jax had been intent on seeing. But as I grew into my role at The Compound, and eventually took on my duty as General, I found myself wondering how much longer I could hold on to the hope that had sustained me for so long.

At twenty-seven, it felt like every decision I made weighed heavier on my soul, being responsible for the lives and deaths of many. There were many people I’d admired throughout history that had the weight of the world on their shoulders at my age or much younger, and had handled it with such grace. Persevered through it all and made it appear easy. I never thought I’d be able to relate on an innate level, though I had much doubt I’d ever be a notable part of history at all.

I knew I should reach out for help, reach back out to my family, who’d extended their hand time and time again. But the thought of burdening them with my emotions was too much to bear. Aside from being their friend, their sister, I was also their leader. I couldn’t bring myself to let them know such private thoughts, and I hated myself for not allowing my guard to fall with those closest to me.

Even as I felt myself slipping into the darkness, further and further, week after week, a small spark of hope still burned within me. A reminder that Jax’s soul had left a permanent, ever-burning ember on mine. I knew there was still a chance for me to find my way out of this darkness, to find the strength to keep fighting.

I sent a flame to the gas lamp next to my bed and rolled to my stomach to start on my next book, beginning my newest journey into another world that wasn’t my own. After a few hours, my focus faded, and I allowed my mind to think back to a time when I’d been happy. The version of me that had been bursting with energy and full of hope. A small part of me knew I could find that happiness again one day if I tried, no matter how far off into the future it was. If only I could bring myself to take that first step.

Maybe tomorrow.

I lied to myself for another two weeks. Every day was another tomorrow. Until one day, two months after Jax’s funeral, I dug deep, and I found a spark. The disgust for abandoning my people, my friends, overpowering my despair. This was not the end, it was just another chapter in a sad, miserable little life. Even though my happy ending was not promised, I could still ensure the same fate would not fall upon others. Slowly, I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed.

It was a small victory, but it was a start. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to stand up, officially determined to face my depression head on.Just take it day by day Maia, give it a chance to get better. You’re way past due your seventy-two hours.

Harley peeked her head up from her corner of blankets and stretched as she saw me move, ready to follow.

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