Page 57 of Runes To Rain
I am just beginning to fade into sweet, blessed unconsciousness with a memory playing behind my eyelids. A memory that, for some reason, I’ve been focusing on to keep myself sane. Behind my eyelids, I replay the images of Dio rescuing me at the concert.
I’m once again questioningwhy this memory, when there’s a knock on my door. Now that is unusual.
“Come to apologize?” I yell through the closed door.
I hear it open and roll myself up as quickly as my damaged body will allow, as I catch sight of a guard rushing at me. Before I can do anything to defend myself, someone behind him reaches out, catching the front of his throat and effectively clotheslining him.
The guard falls, choking to the ground, clutching his neck.
As I look up at my would-be savior, I’m irritated to see Bonum standing in the door.
They are staring through me, their head tilted slightly. “It’s your lucky day, little bird,” they rasp. “You get to spread your wings again.” They seem to either not notice or not care about the guard, coughing and choking on the ground.
I push myself up against the wall to stand, wobbling on my feet.
Without another word, a second guard emerges from behind Bonum, pulls the guard on the floor back into the hallway by the arm, and then enters the room again, walking towards me. I prepare to defend myself, which is laughable in my current state, even to me.
Before I can do anything, I hear Bonum rasp almost joyfully, “Oh, by all means, give us a reason to keep you here.”
I look up and see them standing unmoving in the doorway, still staring through me with a blank grin on their face.
I feel myself shudder slightly, and it’s just enough to push the instincts down. I submit to having my hands bound and allow the guard to direct me toward the door.
“Good choice,” Bonum rasps as we move past, and I hear them turn and move after us. The coughing and whimpering guard on the floor clearly still doesn’t draw their attention.
The hair pricks along the back of my neck with them behind me, and my heart pounds. Every instinct pushes me to try to fight and break loose before we arrive at whatever fate I’m due.
My mind, however, is as clear as it’s been. With the intelligence given to me by the little boy, I run probabilities on my ability to escape and don’t like my odds. Instead, I stay quiet to wait and watch. If they mean to break me, they have not yet accomplished that goal. What they have, so far, failed to realize is that the actions they’re taking are simply honing a blade, and at this point, it is sharp as hell.
DIO’S JOURNAL - ENTRY 336
Annum:5615
Entry 336 - solamen
He’s done it.
He’s fucking done it. I don’t pretend to understand all the lawyer language Alexander just spewed at me, but he’s serving some sort of papers to some important person, and then in a day or more, Chaosta will be free.
As I write this, Reem is organizing transportation for her. After a firm warning not to say anything or ask questions other than those pertaining to her travel arrangements, I gave him Alexander's assistant's contact information. That shit is much more his area of expertise than mine.
I don’t even know how to feel right now, relieved? Scared? Hopeful?
While I wasn’t exactly incarcerated, my time intreatment centers wasn’t a walk in the park. I also know plenty of people who have been incarcerated. I’ve seen the scars it can leave mentally. I’ve been clinging to the fact that she came out of her stint at Piquory Treatment Center pretty damn whole. Honestly, though, what an awful thing to cling to. I’ve been grappling with the guilt over sending her there, and I still haven’t been able to forgive myself for it. I’m really hoping that my help in getting her out of this mess does something to assuage that guilt.
My damn stubborn, realistic side also continues to remind me that she wasn’t there for nearly as long as she’s been locked up this time. The fact that the government, the very scum we’re working to take action against, has her now is just the icing on this fucked up cake.
A few days ago, I finally brought Fem into my confidence. I recognized that I hadn’t been able to pull myself out of the spiral, and somehow he seemed like the right person to tell. At first, I thought I’d made a mistake when his response was to glare at me and tell me about how Chaosta had been right again. Then he softened, and he’s been damnably gentle and kind to me, hovering even and making sure I remember to eat.
I’m not sure if this is better or worse, but it was a necessary evil, I think, to share with him. I need to not keep trying to do this alone, at least not in my current state. I made him promise not to tell anyone else, and he agreed to keep it to himself. If this gets out, Idon’t know what I’ll do. I’m not good at letting people in.
Back when I was early in my recovery, I allowed myself to be too casual and spend time around others who were struggling. I nearly lost myself again, and if I hadn’t been taken under the wing of a talented magic user and introduced to this world, I’m sure I would have started back down the destructive road I had been on. Instead, I lost him, my dearest friend, just over a year ago now. After he passed, I started looking for a cause I could believe in to help with. It feels tenuous to have found that here, but to still be facing elements that are trying to pull me back to my addiction.
I’ll handle it, of course. I have ever since, and I won’t allow his sacrifice to be in vain.
HABEAS CORPUS
This hallway feels as though it goes on forever. Part of me doesn’t want it to end, and part of me, the small bit of me that still has some hope, wants to get to our destination. Maybe, that part of me says, it will mean freedom from this place. Realistically, I know it is unlikely, but hope is a funny thing.
