“You look tired,” Angelique’s voice piqued over my tablet.

“I am tired,” I retorted, almost frustrated by her interruption. Her calls were always non-negotiable when they arrived. I didn’t know the consequences of hitting the mute button when it came to her. It was almost as if she sensed when I needed to talk the most, despite my own obligations to avoid sharing about my feelings

“Busy busy busy…that’s all you ever are,” she sighed, although it was a lovingly, admirable sigh at that.

“I can’t afford to be anything else,” I hummed, taking a deep breath.

I was tired, yes. Tired of these games, tired of the unknown. Life always felt like a game I could try and solve, decipher the strategy and win. I was losing. I knew that. I think maybe we were always destined to lose. When people realized all was lost, they sought to gain whatever they could, a bit of sweetness amongst overwhelming sour.

Is that why I found myself lingering towards Damien? Did I think he could give me something amongst suffering, or would he only just add to it?

“How have things improved with that one soldier? Damien?” Angie asked, almost as if reading my mind.

“Better. Improved, not drastically of course. I still question a lot of his choices,” I hummed.

Like, why did he kiss me? I appreciated the fact he had done what I had asked, never brought it up again. But did he continue to think about it as often as I did?

“Again, you analyze everyone. I don’t think that’s something you can stop.”

“I’m no better than them if I can’t change, I have to try.”

Them, as in the rest of the world. I had this belief that the galaxies grew cold when stagnant, when people stopped moving and doing. Certainly, there were moments in our life where we feel stuck, where everything feels outside of our control. Instead of enjoying the moment, we succumb, surrender that control permanently. And strong, dictating societies like Sabbath take over people wishing for change but never acting on it.

If I wanted change, I had to act on it too.

“Have you changed in some ways?” she inquired.

“I…” I paused, trying to perouse earlier memories, “I suppose I am more keen on second chances in a place like this. I gave someone a second chance, even if he may not deserve it.”

“Damien.”

“Yeah, him…” I hummed, “He fucked up, like usual. There was a fight, Damien had completely broken more than a few bones. He showcased this violence I’ve been so eager to remove, put it on the center stage and yet I didn’t boo him off it. I felt like I couldn’t condemn him for his actions. I wouldn’t say the other prick didn’t deserve it but…”

Owen had deserved it.

“The kid has friends in high places. The entire thing became a serious inquiry in Milithreat, so bad it got all the way to Ruenova’s desk. I was called in, hoping it was about my progress, instead it was about him. I was given something I hadn’t felt in a long time: power.”

“You had the power to decide his fate,” Angie observed.

“I was the one thing preventing him from reassignment. He’d still be present on Colony Negative, but he would not be a leader, he’d be punished, demoted…all that wonderful military justice at work.”

“Yet, you gave him a second chance.”

“I may need him. He is careless, but he is not stupid,” an exhausted sigh left my lips.

He may be ignorant of certain things: emotions, social awareness, and most of all just how a woman might perceive him to be. I couldn’t necessarily blame him though. Everything he was smart and cunning at was due to Sabbath, Sabbath was also his reasoning for not picking up on certain cues I was used to. He was raised around fellow soldiers, not people. Yet I could see his effort to try and see everyone as a person, even if he didn’t know exactly how to interact with them.

“I should get some rest,” I eventually sighed, seeing her nod. Her face was stoic, trying to decipher my own expression but I tried to keep it blank. Some days I felt these conversations were helping, other times I felt they could be a hindrance.

I gave him a second chance. Colony Negative and this project had been my second chance, and I felt like I was squandering it.

-

Alala remained. Whatever the plan was for her, they were unable to establish a firm communication with District Seven. Damien said it had something to do with their shitty equipment, so thus she had to remain in Camp Green for now. At first, I was frustrated. But the second I was able to open that secret room, all thoughts of Alala and my envy were immediately distracted by a flurry of new work.

What we found was a gold mine: an archive.

Libraries had their uses, past and present. Words from thousands of years ago could influence the present, teach about a culture almost dead in belief, or even just be a source of entertainment. The issue about this library was everything was centered in a catalog in the middle of the spacious room. Various areas of seating or desks all had ports to hold information, all sent to this central database.

Yet, there was no way to directly access that. Literature, clearly in a language we couldn’t understand, could still be pursued with a mere touch of our fingers but only one at a time. Each page had to be scanned individually into our datapads, taking up time and effort.

There had to be an easier way to do this, but without access or knowledge of any storage cards, this was the only way we had.

“So, you think we can take this all back and maybe decipher what these words are?” David asked, both of us in a corner to drink water. Despite it always feeling frigid cold down in these halls, I was sweating underneath my light armor.

“That’s the hope,” I sighed. The more literature we had, the easier to begin to translate. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be enough to begin learning about this place.

My eyes fell on Damien who merely guarded near the door, leaning against the wall with his rifle propped against his lifted knee. He didn’t look bored. For once, he looked rather patient, as if he had gotten used to this was how things would be. Granted, considering our last ‘outing’, we could both appreciate this kind of work.

“I can’t stand that asshole,” David whispered, as if he had seen my eyes lingering at the Milithreat supervisor.

“Mm, funny, I think he thinks the same of you,” I teased.

“You don’t think he’d kill us all if given the chance?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I glared at him, sensing frustration in his tone.

“Oh please, if he was given the order to shoot us all down in this room, do you think he’d hesitate?”

I didn’t really know the answer to that. The simplest retort would be that whomever ordered him to do that wouldn’t ask of such things. But knowing his past, knowing about Sabbath and the choices he felt forced to make…it wasn’t far from reality.

“I trust that he wouldn’t make such an abhorrent decision,” I replied honestly after some thought.

“I thought you would have agreed with me on this,” David sighed.

“Maybe a few months ago, yes. But people can change.”

“Not people like him,” he shook his head, “He will follow every order directed at him, even if it means the end of the world.”

Maybe, but if I didn’t try, then the experiment has already failed.

I put my canteen away, feeling David’s gaze follow my movements. I knew he was just trying to appease me. Again, maybe a few months ago his words would have me believing in his statements. I knew David did not like anything to do with Sabbath, rightfully so. I had my own grievances and wished them hell. But Damien had been just as a victim to them as we all had.

Grimes had walked over to Damien, whatever words being told had Damien’s soft yet grizzly demeanor fall. Damien straightened up slightly, securing his rifle firmly in his hands this time.

“Hey, heads up, growing anathema activity was noted in the area. I say we call it a day and head back,” Damien ordered to the science team, yet his gaze fell on me to make the call.

I wanted to stay, if just for an extra hour. Yet at the news of anathemas, my team was already grabbing their supply packs, ready to head into safety. I couldn’t retort with that. If they wanted safety, I’d let them have it.

Yet as they began to line up with the military escort, I looked at Damien, “Give me another hour.”

“Let’s just stick with the group. This place isn’t going anywhere, Doctor,” he replied gently.

“I know my way back. I’ll go alone if I have to,” I stubbornly refused.

Damien gave a glare to Grimes, almost rolling those beautiful gray eyes before nodding. Grimes seemed to understand, leading the rest of the group away who probably were eager for a warm dinner while I slaved away. I didn’t mind. Damien stayed, securing the door behind them before holstering his rifle.

I went back to the archive, but not without feeling Damien’s presence grow closer.

“Who’s the oblivious one now?” he asked.

“What are you talking about?” I scanned the digital pages in front of me, avoiding trying to decipher it in real time. That’s what tonight was for when I couldn’t sleep.

“Oh please,” he groaned, rolling his eyes, “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

I immediately glared at him, wondering why he was mimicking my words from yesterday.

“Please do,” I sarcastically replied, “If you can actually spell the words correctly…”

“David was completely staring at your ass a few moments ago. Practically got a hard-on,” he answered.

“Ugh, really? I don’t need to hear this,” I rolled my eyes.

“I’m serious, Jack. I wouldn’t bring it up for no reason. The guy totally-”

“Doctor David Johnson is a royal ass kisser. He got where he is because he kissed everyone’s ass. He’s an absolute people pleaser and that is an extreme bias in his results. However, he’s still good at his job. It didn’t matter who was in charge here, he’d still be kissing their ass. And that so happens to be me,” I interrupted him.

“Oh I think he wants to do more than just kiss your ass…” he retorted.

“Yeah, and all Alala wants to do is fuck yours so…” I retorted in return, letting my own spite get the better of me.

“Whoa! I’m not into that kind of stuff!” he laughed, thinking I was just teasing.

I wasn’t.

I didn’t blame Alala. In fact, she wasn’t a problem at all, other than her plans to try and sleep around with him. I knew it was all a ploy for information, a futuristic version of a succubus. Everyone always blamed the succubi, not the ‘victim’ who fell for their prey. I didn’t think Damien was that stupid to not sense the trap.

“Well, you two are a match made in heaven, aren’t you? You’re both strong fighters. You both have a knack for getting into dangerous, wreckless situations, both willing to do whatever it takes to survive,” I observed.

He immediately scoffed, “Hold on, just yesterday you’re berating just the idea of her talking to me. Now, you’re playing matchmaker?”

“I’m allowed to change my mind. I’m not wrong, am I?” I asked.

“Yes, plenty of women love to change their minds. You, Jacqueline Deveraux, do not change your mind. Whenever an idea, statistic, or experiment lands in that brain of yours, you stubbornly stick with it. The only time you let it go is when it fails right in front of your face. You hold onto concepts even if they might fail, blind by your love for them.”

I took that almost as a compliment.

I said nothing further, only going back into my work.

“It’s okay to admit that you’re jealous,” Damien finally shrugged.

“Jealous?!” I laughed, “Don’t be so fucking delusional.”

I wasn’t jealous of her. Okay, maybe that was only a half-truth. I was jealous of the idea of her, of what she represented. She was beautiful, pure and natural. She possessed a strength in a society that uplifted her, not demeaned or belittled even in the simplest ways. She was the kind of woman who could get anything, or anyone, she wanted and I could not fault her for that.

District Five prided itself in beauty. The District was wonderfully diverse, but certainly had a market towards exploiting women in the economy of all things makeup, plastic surgery, and ways to appease the gaze of others. Wealth makes people greedy, in more ways than one. When people got bored, they looked to enhance, enhance things they thought would make them happier. In the end it just became one dangerous cycle where the only happy ones were the corporations with their piles and piles of money.

It never bothered me in the beginning. Again, Angelique was more likely to always have a man in her arms. She was beautiful and I never had once been jealous of such. It was outside my control. I had my fair share of very limited intimate affairs, most relationships never really going beyond a few months. Sex was fine, never a complaint. I just could never find someone who could understand me, or even wish to.

The scars just made it even worse. Now, expectations of someone to understand me seemed so astronomical. Physical looks had everything to do in a relationship. Everything else could be there: emotional connection, trust, unconditional support. Without physical attraction, all those other things would diminish over time.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

And who, really, would be the slightest attracted to a woman who wore a mask most of her time, covering up her deformity with science when science had been her real deformity?

Damien wouldn’t understand that. He had hardly even understood just the foundation of a woman’s envy. Men never seemed to be so jealous about their own sex, other than maybe the size of muscles or dicks. Knowing he couldn’t ever understand that, understand me, I had no intention of spilling my emotions out to him.

When I blinked, he was halfway across the room, glaring at a crack in the wall. I hadn’t even noticed he had left the central console to gaze at it, or even if he had said anything relating to it.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I think there’s a draft here,” he pointed. Before I could retort that, his fingers moved into the slight crack, prying with a grunt. I was about to explain that it looked hopeless, and yet in his strength, he had opened a very small door, almost like a window. He moved to adjust his body, leveraging himself against the opening to secure it with his body weight.

“Fucking hell, Jacqueline, get over here,” he strained.

I walked over, not in any hurry of course to slowly duck under his extended legs bracing the door open. Inside was exactly what I was looking for: a port. It was a small unit that seemed to hold data storage within its unique structure. And with a port, similar to that of the projection of the room weeks prior, downloading data should be easy.

When the download began, I turned my gaze to Damien. Without his helmet on, I could see the clear vein forming in his forehead at the strain of keeping the door open. He could very well trap me in here, if he wished, yet was doing everything in his power to prevent that.

How endearing.

“You knew about this draft hours ago, didn’t you?” I asked.

“Maybe…” his voice was low with his physical exertion.

“And you didn’t think to point it out earlier?”

“No,” Damien insisted.

“Care to explain why?”

“How long is that download?” He ignored my question.

“Long,” I crossed my arms, “Explain, now.”

“I don’t trust your team. We still have no idea who this fucking mole is, sharing intel and information. It could be someone on your team. I wanted to share this with you, and you alone,” he answered.

The sound of claws interrupted our thoughts. The clanking of long nails within walls alerted us to the sensation we weren’t alone. Damien took one glance at the main library room, not noticing any sign of an intruder. Clearly, though, they were in spaces we couldn’t see. I wasn’t going to take that risk.

I pulled him immediately into that cramped space with me, the momentum alone practically having him collide into my bodice with force. Yet, he caught me before he could pin me against the wall.

“Fuck, Jack! You just-” he cursed loudly, panting heavily before I immediately covered his lips with my hands. I could feel the tickling of his stubble, something I was actually growing used to.

I thought him to be the faintest bit more handsome when he strayed away from the militaristic persona of clean shaven.

The noises had paused briefly before continuing, this time echoing away. I could feel his hand resting securely above my hip, thumb gently pressing into my lateral abdominals. The feeling of his exhausted breath against my hand gave me thoughts I immediately had to shake away.

We still waited a few moments in relative silence, not losing our close proximity to each other until we believed the anathema to be long gone.

“Jack, we might be fucking stuck in here,” he scowled.

“You’re right, maybe we should have investigated this room when others were still present!” I whispered with a scowl.

I could see him turn back towards the door with a sigh, seeing a much more narrow opening than before. I think he was questioning if he was even strong enough to open it now, but I knew he’d give it a fair attempt when his soreness faded. His hand moved to his knee, the leg that had been propped up on the door that I yanked against, most likely twisting it.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, knowing I had caused him some discomfort.

“I’ll be fine,” he shrugged it off, fairly quick to dismiss my apology.

I took a long pause, “What do you think draws these anathemas? It can’t just be sounds alone. The one that District Three held captive only grew aggravated in certain moments.”

“I…I don’t know,” he sighed, as if not wanting this conversation right now.

“Sorry,” I apologized again.

“Stop fucking apologizing,” he reprimanded, “don’t ever apologize for your scientific ramblings.”

I remained silent at that. He was stern in his words, but there was a hint of desire behind them to not get me to shut up. When he turned around, stretching his arms slightly, I glanced away from the way his armor couldn’t even hide his muscles.

“Who told you to shut up when you talked all science-like?” he inquired, his voice remaining firm.

“Nobody, I guess,” I shrugged.

“Jack, I may not know much of growing up outside Sabbath, but I know one thing about humans: words stick with us. I never knew just how powerful until it was too late. Words reside in us like…like bombs. And sometimes a certain feeling or memory is enough to light the fuse,” he explained, “What did someone say to you?”

“Nobody cares what I have to say, Damien,” I answered.

“I do.”

“Out of politeness, out of decency that we have to get along-”

“Fuck politeness, Jacqueline. I’m not the nicest person, I know that. What I do know is, you haven’t been listened to. You don’t like the idea of sharing an idea with people who couldn’t begin to understand. But how can someone begin to learn, if they don’t get the chance to listen?”

“Nobody cares about the work until it’s published, when it’s heavily reviewed by scientific peers beyond scrutiny. My ideas or theories-”

“They don’t need to be peer reviewed for you to share them with me,” he interrupted, again, “Who do I need to kill that put those words in your head?”

“No need, they’re already dead…” I muttered, seeing his face fall in understanding, “All anyone wants is a finished product, an unbiased, perfectly pure thesis with no flaws. That includes humans, too. You, Jacqueline, I don’t see ever being perfect.”

“Harsh words…your mother?” Damien asked.

“Yeah, you guessed it,” I sighed, “Scientists all strive for perfection, a utopia of information. Funny, if we got that, our jobs would be practically obsolete. You’re right that words stick. I could care less about her opinions now, but as a child with only parents to try and admire, it resides deep.”

It didn’t help that I’d meet men, or even just try to obtain friends in my study groups or at university that would constantly make comments. You’re a perfect woman, Jack, just not perfect for me. Or, you strive for perfection too much. You’d be much more fun if you let loose.

I couldn’t be either.

Damien paused for a moment, looking like he was prepared to make an educated guess, “Who was the guy?”

“What guy?”

“The guy that you were dating that told you to shut up. It wasn’t just your mother,” Damien insisted.

“We weren’t dating…” I replied, “he was dating Angelique. It was just the three of us at a dinner, I was meeting him for the first time. I was working on some study about the genetic replication certain reptiles do to regrow limbs and how that was advancing into the medical field. He had practically rolled his eyes at me and asked if I talked about anything but science. He said it hurt his brain. If I couldn’t talk about anything but science, then I should just shut up.”

“Fuck, and Angelique just…?”

“Oh, no. She broke up with him right after. She attracted all kinds of men, assholes and nice men alike. But the second anyone ever made a derogatory comment to me, she was quick to end it. We were both protective of each other in that way,” I sighed, “it made me realize he was right. I’m nothing when I can’t talk about science.”

“If you took all my weapons away from me, stripped me of rank, title, and uniforms, would you think I am nothing as well?” he asked me.

I was shocked at first, but shook my head, “No.”

“You don’t have to be perfect, Jack. You don’t have to stop talking about science. You don’t have to get along with everyone. You do, however, have to find ways to make yourself happy, find some joy in all this misery.”

“Kind of hard in a place like this. If I’m not plunged deep into my work, then I’m stressed about all the work I still have to do. And your ideas that I can find some way to solve this problem aren’t exactly helping…” I teased, slightly.

“Sounds to me like you need to find a way to mitigate such stress,” he replied with a smile.

“Got any suggestions?” I asked, before realizing that was a stupid thing to ask in the first place. Especially with that naughty grin beginning to form. Luckily, my datapad alerted me that the data collection was complete, and hopefully we could get out of here.

Hopefully. I didn’t know what we’d get up to if we were stuck here for hours.

Damien, however, turned around and began to pry at the seams. He struggled momentarily before getting enough grip strength, opening a gap just wide enough for me. I slipped out with ease, not before placing my things down and doing whatever I could to help widen the gap for him. It was just close enough for him to squeeze through, his armor scraping at the sides before that thing slammed shut.

“I’m sure there’s a much easier way to open that fucking thing,” he panted, still smiling.

“Yeah, I’m sure there is too.”

“Can we get out of here? I’m starving,” Damien whined.

“Yeah…yeah we can,” I nodded, knowing I needed to keep my distance.

He was trying to understand me, and it was fucking terrifying. How pathetically ironic…that I could study and psychoanalyze him to my heart's content, but the moment he’d return such passionate fervor to me, I’d panic.

I knew it was just all a stupid game. And when men played these kinds of games, they almost always won without any real consequences.

-

I had another nightmare about Wueh. Not just Wueh, but anathemas and humans alike, with me killing them all. I worried if I was beginning to condition myself. If I was so easily able to kill anathemas for my own protection, humans would begin to creep into the equation too. And once I got comfortable with humans, justifying my own need to protect myself…well, that would turn dangerous.

There wasn’t a vaccine for this infectious disease. I could wish all I wanted to be the one to create that cure, but it looked impossible.

When I got up, I had the urgent desire to look for Damien. It was still early in the morning and I had expected his presence somewhere, given he got just about the same amount of sleep I did. He was nowhere to be found. Even Grimes was missing. The only person I could really locate was Regina who was busy reprogramming those drones she used.

Good morning, I signed to her, Is your boss around?

She perked up slightly at my presence, smiling softly at someone signing to her, No. I don’t know where he is.

I nodded, knowing it wasn’t like Damien to probably let others know when he just disappeared, Thanks.

She rose from her slight seat, as if to get my attention as I tried to leave, Do you think these monsters are trying to help?

Help? I asked with clear confusion.

They gave us the password to open the doors. They’re watching us. Maybe not all of them are bad?

I think given the horror she had experienced that day, she was just justifying it all with fantasy to make herself more comforted. We tended to do that with horrors, especially that beyond our understanding. Same as we believed as children all we had to do was cower under our blankets and the monsters couldn’t see us. If they couldn’t see us, they couldn’t hurt us. They could always see us, and a blanket was only a protection for our eyes, not a shield to the horrors of life.

Maybe. For a soldier, you have a different idea than your boss, I smiled faintly.

I knew from my first day upon meeting Damien he was always a shoot first, ask questions later. I understand from his perspective how that could help him with his own hidden horrors, but all of it was a temporary reprieve. One day, he’d ask questions, and by the time he felt comfortable enough to ask it would be too late. He was a man so used to following orders, I feared one day he’d shoot something that could give us answers.

Regina smiled at that in return and went back to her drones.

There wasn’t much use in thinking about what she said, although I could tell my mind wandered there. Wueh too had asked if these anathemas were intelligent, were they possessing souls or just a dominating parasite over what had once been human? The answer was that I wasn’t sure.

Damien still wasn’t found. The makeshift armory was empty. The mess area for breakfast was slowly filling up with those ready to eat lukewarm sausage and eggs. He wasn’t anywhere near his makeshift office either. The last thing I could presume to find him was his own tent of lodging.

I didn’t hesitate to walk in, although maybe I should have. I didn’t find Damien, but I found Alala getting dressed. She seemed just as surprised as me when I barged in.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I could ask the same as you. You barge into his room often?” she asked in return, a sly smile on her face.

No. I didn’t make it a habit to barge in uninvited to Damien’s space, his room in particular. I had a feeling his room back on Station Evolution was probably messy or disorganized, reeking of his cologne or some other odor. I had no intention of ever entering his sleeping space. Well, not until now.

“I was looking for him,” I answered.

“He’s not here,” she replied, adjusting the straps of her leather armor.

My mind drifted to if she had any weapons at her disposal. They had been confiscated, but I was worried perhaps if Damien had left any of his own around in this tent, she could take advantage of it.

I turned to leave, given my reason for entering this space wasn’t here. Alala seemed to think our conversation wasn’t over.

“You never answered my question about the mask…” she observed.

“It’s none of your business,” I retorted. I wasn’t in the mood for this. I hadn’t even had my morning coffee so I wasn’t ready to be polite or cordial just yet.

“Easy, I’m just curious. You’re an intriguing character, Doctor,” she raised her hands in slight defense.

“Have you ever heard the saying curiosity kills?”

“I haven’t been killed yet. Neither have you…” she smirked.

She was right. I was just as curious about things, if not more curious than she. I, however, never had the audacity to question such out loud to strangers, in a rude manner too.

“You’re not deserving of him, I hope you know that,” Alala laughed, breaking the awkward tension between us.

Deserving of him? I never once thought perhaps I was. Sometimes I wondered if he was deserving of any of my attention. I suppose the answer in my head was yes. As humans, we craved each other’s presence, some more than others. Damien had confided in me about Sabbath, something I knew he didn’t share so freely. In that, he had earned, perhaps deserved my attention.

“We’re colleagues. The topic of deserving each other’s attention isn’t needed,” I retorted.

“So, you make it a habit to barge into the bedroom of your colleagues?”

I could feel a red, angry blush begin to form. My fist clenched in a defensive manner, knowing this woman was only trying to push my buttons. And for what? She just wanted a reaction, and I couldn’t give her that. She’d be out of my hair soon enough.

“Damien Rok is all yours, you have no competition in that factor Alala,” I spat slightly.

“I don’t like wanting a man who wants someone else…” her eyes narrowed, “I don’t like competing, and even if I did, I’d win. And again, undeserved competition at that. He’s special, and you don’t deserve anything special.”

“Everything special about Damien came from a fucking lab, from shots of testosterone, memory enhancing drugs, or steroids to make him excel in all things. There is nothing innately, humanly spectacular about him,” I scowled quickly. Too quickly. I regretted the words when I said them. I was honestly hoping that Alala would be turned off by that, that once she knew he was a product of Sabbath she’d remove herself from any thoughts of him.

Yet she still stood there with that smirk, her eyes drifting behind me.

And when I glanced over my shoulder, I could sense his presence there. I immediately closed my eyes with a wince.

Every single time, I fucked up. I always said something too harsh, I always pushed someone away. And then I’d wonder why I was so fucking lonely, so terrified to talk to people. It’s because I was terrified of myself, of what I’d say that would anger them, all against my own will. I said things equatable to my mother, who said phrases with such aggression she didn’t care about the sting in her own truth.

What I had said had been a lie, but did it matter if the person it was about took it for truth?

“Alala, your Magistrate has reached out to us. She wishes to speak with you,” Damien finally spoke, his tone calm, neutral…but even I could tell he was upset.

“Wonderful, thank you for letting me know,” she gleamed, walking past me and himself.

I turned, already seeing Damien do so as well.

“Damien-” I tried to insist, wishing if he just knew the context then maybe he’d understand. But he was quick to leave with Alala.

His absence left a feeling of familiar dread in my heart. I could blame societal structures for my failure to befriend strangers, getting along with people. People didn’t agree with me, and it was all because I didn’t agree with people. I protected myself with harsh words, not just a mask.

And even though this man had seen me without my mask, I still attacked him under the guise of protecting myself. I was trying to spare my own feelings, in doing so, I damaged his.

Alala was right: I wasn’t deserving of him. I wasn’t deserving of anyone, which is why I volunteered to come here. Colony Negative was the furthest from civilized population, a place I thought I could thrive in my loneliness.

I wanted to cry out of anger at myself. I wanted to hurt myself in all the ways I had hurt others. I kept putting myself in this vicious cycle, punishing myself for hurting others. Yet the more I isolated myself, the more I found myself saying such horrid, awful things, whether in my head or out loud.

Instead, I tangled my fingers tightly in my hair, squeezing for a moment to let my scalp feel an inch of pain. Physical pain could always absolve the pain in my heart, yet it wasn’t helping this time. I was doomed to feel pain forever, even if the mask did its best to diminish it. In that, I wondered if I had deserved what had happened to me on Colony 999.

Words did indeed stick with people, and I feared most of all what my words just now would do to the person I cared about most in this god-forsaken colony.