Ava woke under the relentless gushing of the cold water, her limbs heavy and unresponsive, as if her body were a marionette abandoned mid-performance.
Pain radiated through her stiff muscles, her joints creaking as she slowly dragged herself backward, her spine pressing against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall.
The once-warm shower had gone frigid, the icy water pooling beneath her, washing faint traces of blood from her thighs. She stared down at herself, her silver nightgown now stained a dull, lifeless red, clinging to her skin like a second, unwanted layer.
Her eyes, dull and glassy, swept across sluggishly. It felt like hours—maybe longer—before she could gather enough strength to move.
Her hands fumbled against the wall as she pulled herself to her feet, the sound of water trickling from her hair and skin. She was shaking uncontrollably, her fingers fumbling for the faucet, turning it off.
Ava stumbled out of the bathroom, her wet nightgown clinging to her body. She took a few stumbling steps with the use of the wall for balance and slowly peeled the soaked fabric off her body, letting it fall to the floor with a soft, wet slap.
She didn't bother to look at it but shuffled to the closet, each step an eternity of trudging through quicksand. Her fingers could barely grasp a simple loose dress, something easy to wear.
Getting it on was an insult of a struggle, her limbs all spastic and uncooperative. She paused several times, her breath ragged, eyes fluttering as if about to pass out. But somehow, she managed, the fabric hanging loosely on her exhausted frame.
Her bare feet padded softly down the hallway, her legs unsteady beneath her weight. The cold air gnawed at her damp skin, but she ignored it, moving forward with the lifeless determination of someone running on fumes.
She found herself in front of Clive and Razan's door and, without hesitation, banged her fist against it violently with everything she could muster.
The door flew open a second later, revealing Razan. Her long hair spilled messily down her shoulders, giving her an almost ghostly appearance in the dim light of the corridor. Her mouth opened, the beginnings of a question forming on her lips—
But then she saw Ava.
In a short moment, her face changed from surprise to concern. She instinctively moved forward, one hand extending to assist. however Ava's hand shot up-palm out, shaking slightly-a silent, warning to stay away.
"Do… Do you have any leftovers from last night? ," Ava croaked, her voice hoarse and distant, like it had taken a lot of effort to speak.
Her eyes didn't meet Razan's, instead locked on the floor somewhere far away.
Razan hesitated. But she gave a small nod, slipping past Ava and gently guiding her toward the dining room.
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Ava didn't resist –not like she could in her current state–, her movements were robotic; at every step, it was an act not to fall.
Under the soft glow of lanterns in the dining area, Razan pulled out whatever leftovers were available: bread, rice, cold cuts, and a little bowl of fruit.
She set them down gently in front of Ava, who attacked the food with savagery-slinging food into her mouth in a gush that bordered on desperation.
Razan stood nearby, watching Ava without a word. There was a protective hesitance in her, the way she leaned slightly forward, as if ready to catch Ava if she suddenly fell. Her brows knitted together, worry deepening with every hurried bite Ava took.
After a few moments, Razan moved cautiously closer, arching forward beside Ava. She reached out gently, placing her hand on Ava's shoulder as would a sister—a silent gesture of comfort.
"Ava…" she whispered, her tone measured.. "Are you okay? I could call a doctor?-"
Ava flinched violently, her body jerking as if Razan's hand were a live wire. She slapped Razan's hand away with such force that the girl gasped, startled. Ava's eyes—wide, panicked, almost feral—locked onto Razan's, filled with terror.
The spoon clattered onto the floor, rolled under the table as Ava's breathing came in shallow, rapid gasps; she was trapped like a prey animal.
In an instant, the fear turned to regret. Ava struggled to her feet, swaying precariously as she wobbled on unsteady legs.
"I… I didn't mean to," she whispered hurriedly, her hands fluttering awkwardly as she reached for Razan's hand to make sure she hadn't hurt her.
Razan blinked, her dark eyes wide with surprise, but she recovered quickly. She gave Ava a soft, reassuring smile and waved her hand dismissively.
"It's okay, it's okay," she whispered-the tone of her voice warm, as one would use to soothe a skittish cat. "I'm fine. Really. Don't worry about it".
Ava had hesitated; her fingers hovered undecidedly above Razan's hand, drawing off. She dropped her gaze to the floor-to a well of guilt gathering in her chest. The unsaid was heavy in that room, a fragile silence neither of them had dared to break.
What felt like an eternity later, Ava muttered as she got up. "Thank you… for the food," she mumbled, her voice not much above a whisper.
Razan tilted her head to one side, her eyes soft and unreadable. "Where are you going?" she asked so softly, Ava did not want to answer.
"I need… to go for a walk," Ava said, already heading toward the door as if she would suffocate if she remained inside the house any longer. Her eyes did not rise to meet Razan's.
Razan was silent for a moment, her thumb pressed against her bottom lip, as if holding back the urge to say so much more. But eventually, she nodded. "Okay. Just… be careful, alright?" she whispered, her tone laced with quiet concern.
The endless yawn of the sky above her, the planets hanging in impossible suspension aligned, cast strange shadows over the streets.
She plunged her hands deep in her pockets as her breaths exhaled in misty clouds against crisp air. The silence of the city wrapped itself around her like a shroud; for a moment, she thought she heard the footsteps behind her once more.
She froze, her heart pounding against her ribs. Her gaze whipped down the deserted street. Nothing.
But in that instant that she had turned to go back, a shadow danced along the edge of her vision.
There and gone in an instant, quick enough any normal onlooker would have written it off as his or her imagination. But Ava knew-or she felt like-knew something was there just now.
And this time she wasn't going to flee from it.
The wind whispered along the deserted streets, carrying with it a familiar voice-soft, haunting, impossibly close.
"Who are you?", said a voice that was hers but at the same time not her voice,
Ava's heart simply stopped.
Slowly turning, breath catching in her throat-she saw someone at the far end of the street. A figure, still and unmoving, half-shrouded in shadow.
And then, the streetlight flickered-the figure smiled.