‘Some of my critics have claimed that we, as Humans, are born to die, and that by removing that ending to life, are no longer human. To them I ask: does a symphony open with a beautiful note purely to end? Is a wondrous tale told solely for its last word to be spoken? No, we are not born to die. We are born to live. To move, to love, to experience, to help, to feel, to express. Death used to merely be the final act of the play, but I now allow us, the playwrights, to write new loves, new experiences and new feelings, unfettered by that most horrendous limit to our expression. We never did exist with death as our purpose, but we now live with death as an example. An example of where we came from, and of the Eden that I-we will build.’
-Johannes Ithunn, 2025
On her first night in slavery, Evelyn slept like a baby.
She woke to a sudden blaring buzzer. Seconds later, the door to her small cabin shot open, and she was brought back to her new reality.
Each pair had been put in their own separate cabins: small rooms with only a sink, a bunk bed, and a fluorescent lamp placed at just the right height to get into the eyes of both of the cabin’s inhabitants, one of which hadn’t said much that night.
In fact, her new partner seemed enormously miserable. He showed no sign of it today, though.
“My name is Will.” He said from the bunk above her.
She twisted in the uncomfortable bed, and gave no answer. The prospect of sleeping here for the next five weeks was not very appealing. Admittedly, Evelyn’s standards for what made a bed good were about as low as the “beds” she usually slept on. Still no back pain, though.
Will continued: “I apologize for my silence yesterday. I was in a bad mood because of… something I had done. I am sorry for not introducing myself earlier. What is your name?” Wow, that’s a posh accent. Were there bits of Norwegian sprinkled in there?
“Nah, that’s alright mate. I’m Evelyn.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Evelyn. That is a beautiful name.
“Uhm, thanks, picked it out myself.”
“If only we could all do the same.”
Evelyn looked above her, into the bottom of the top bunk. “I mean, you can. Just need to fill out some forms and stuff. Right?” That damned lamp shone right into her eye.
“Yes, first names. Surnames, though… Changing them was outlawed a few years ago. Mr Ithunn said it did not fit with the goals of humanity.”
Evelyn scoffed. “His goals, more like.”
Johannes Ithunn, the person who had ‘severed Man’s chain to death’ had his own vision of humanity, one he was not too fond of properly communicating. He had discovered immortality, though, so he must’ve done something right. And after two hundred years of near-global leadership, there wasn’t much to be done about it.
“Yes.” Will said sullenly from above her. “Be that as it may, we should get going. Breakfast will soon be served, and we should not dally.” He jumped down, wearing his new uniform from yesterday. Dried blood still spattered his face.
Still abed, she pointed at the splotches. “You’ve got something on your mug, mate.”
He looked puzzled. “What? Oh, that.” He hurried over to the sink and scraped it off, then looked to her to confirm it was gone, and she nodded.
He had a remarkably round face, and the beginnings of a beard. His subdued blue eyes were almost hidden behind a curly mop of blonde hair. Yes, he definitely looked norwegian. Acne scars on his cheeks hinted at mortality, however.
Evelyn got up, and they walked into the long corridor. He was only a bit taller than her, annoyingly so. To their right was the end of the hallway, with all the other people pouring out of the cabins to their left.
“What’s Will short for, anyway? Wilbur?”
He laughed. “Nothing, just Will.”
“Well a word can’t be short for the same word, can it? No offense to your parents, but I’ve never known anyone just named ‘Will’.” She scratched the back of her head. “Then again, they might do stuff differently over on Fairhair.”
He looked at her, surprised. “How did you know?”
“Your accent, duh. You sound like you were born with brown cheese in your mouth.” She had never really liked the brown cheese that Ithunn had mandated should be sold in every shop on Fairhair, the city-ship outside of Norway. It was a bit too sweet for her.
The corridor emptied out into a large mess hall. It was as sparsely populated by people as it was with furniture. It was dotted with occasional benches and tables, but they were oddly far apart.
Along one wall was a long kitchen counter, manned by an army of cooks, who seemed surprisingly happy. The whole room was lit with the same harsh fluorescent lamps as their cabins. That light, mixed with the monotonous green of the rest of the space made the hall look maddeningly boring. She could have gone without all the armed guards along the walls, however. Bet they have a gun range somewhere. Could be fun to break into. Anyway, why did a mess hall need so many guards?
Lieutenant Vanham stood in the doorway to the larger cargo hold, facing the other inmates. They were gathered around him in a sullen heap. Everyone wore the same bright pink jumpsuits, with a unicorn embroidered into the left shoulder. It wouldn’t have looked too bad if not for the mint green boots and the peculiar armbands that completed the ensemble.
“Alright you goobers, here’s how the day is going to go. Breakfast starts soon, at 07:00 hours. That’s how it is here every day. After you’ve had your scran, training begins. You’ll learn the theory behind what we do here, how not to get taken and what else you should or shouldn’t do. Understood?”
Some of the crowd grumbled, as did Evelyn’s stomach. She took a closer look at them all, currently murmuring acknowledgments. They looked so tired, clumped together in their pairs. Evelyn felt it too, all too well.
The lieutenant shook his head. “Meet out in the hall in 30.” A bell sounded from the counter, and one of the cooks called them over.
Will stood next to her, prodding her arm.“Are you ready for the best part of being in the Corps?”
“Is the food that good? I’ve never known prison food to be anything better than regurgitated slop.”
Will was the first to walk towards the long counter. Evelyn followed him, and found herself trailed by everyone else.
“The food here is exquisite. Before the Fall, prisoners who were about to be executed could choose what their last meal would be.”
Evelyn sighed. “And since we have it worse, we get better grub?”
Will grabbed a tray and went down the line. “Yes, in essence.”
Evelyn kept following his lead, cursing as the annoying scab touched the tray. The pain was quickly forgotten once she saw the food.
Trays of fresh baked bread, fried eggs with freshly cut parsley, crispy browned bacon, scrambled eggs with a hint of curry, heaped trays of butter, an abundance of cheeses, pancakes and waffles, and a never ending supply of all manners of juice, milk, coffee and water. You could fit two plates on each tray, so Evelyn naturally sat down at a table with three. She hadn’t eaten this good in what felt like centuries. She decided to try it all, bread with bacon, fried and scrambled eggs, or butter, pancakes drenched in syrup and most importantly: two tall glasses of apple juice. They tasted like home.
Will, who sat across from her, had only taken one tray with a veritable boatload of bread and bacon.
“Really going ham on that bacon, eh Will?” She said, finding herself smiling.
His mouth was too full to answer, so Evelyn attacked a slice of egg-laden bread. The bread was indescribably soft and fluffy in her mouth, crust breaking perfectly.
The egg tasted so good she imagined even a chicken would love it. She had planned on savouring every bite, but quickly found herself with empty hands, a half-full stomach, and a large grin on her face. On to the next one, I guess.
The bacon was just the right amount of crispy, salty yet savoury, a bit sweet as well. Was that some kind of barbecue sauce? Whatever it was, it melded perfectly with the hints of curry that accompanied those excellent scrambled eggs.
For a blissful moment, all else seemed to vanish. It was just her, a mountain of gluten, a drove of dead pigs and a kindergarten of unfertilized birds.
And apple juice. Memories of a rope swing in an orchard, the warm sun on her face and her brother’s laughter seeped out their cages. Although she held the glass with her wounded hand, the pain felt subdued.
In her fervour, she hadn’t even noticed that Lanky Kid and his partner had sat down at the same table as Evelyn and Will, Lanky kid by her side and his partner next to Will.
“I’m Magnus, by the way.” Lanky kid said, his voice cracking.
She looked at him from the corner of her eye, a piece of bacon hanging out of her mouth.
“We talked on the helicopter?” he continued.
She chewed and looked at him. “Yeah, I remember. You seem to have calmed down.”
“I wanted to thank you for that. What’s your name?” Magnus asked.
She finished the second glass of apple juice with a satisfied sigh. “Evelyn.” She nodded her chin at Magnus’ partner. “Who’s your friend?”
“That’s…”
“Deanna.” his partner said, eyeing Evelyn suspiciously. She was short, with a fierce look to her. She had wavy red hair and a long face. “I can see you like the food.” An american. Curious.
Evelyn, mid pancake, looked at her dumbly. “Wot gafe you dat idea?” Deanna hadn’t even taken any. Well, she’s no fun.
“Oh, nothing.” She looked off in the distance.
Will had cleaned his plate by then, organizing the plastic cutlery next to it. “Why have you not taken any, Deanna?”
She looked at him. “Not hungry. And you are?”
“I am Will, Evelyn’s partner. Nice to meet you.” He said, extending a handshake.
Deanna looked at it and raised her eyebrows. Magnus reached out and shook it eagerly.
“And the food is safe to eat, Deanna.” Will continued. “This is my fourth day here.” He smiled, and shrugged. “So far, I have not died.”
“Mhm.” Deanna pointed to the side of his face. “What’s up with the blood, then?”
He looked incredulously at Evelyn. “I thought you said I was clean?”
Evelyn giggled. “Yeah, but I wanted to see how long it took you to notice.”
He sighed.
“Whose blood is it anyway?” Deanna said, snatching some bread from Magnus’ plate.
“I suspect you will learn that later today.” He looked sad for a moment, then quickly switched back to a smile.
“W-what do you mean?” Magnus said, anxiously. “Oh, is there a lot of blood involved? I can’t stand the sight of it.”
Evelyn and Deanna both looked at him disappointedly. “You don’t know what you’re in for, do you?” Evelyn said. Deanna just looked defeated.
Will looked him in the eye. “If you do your job correctly, there will not be a lot of blood, no. You will be fine, Magnus. You’ll make it home. We all will.” He looked at them both. “Which one of you is the syphoner?”
The pair looked at eachother, then back to Will. “No idea.” Deanna said.
“Which one of you talked to Melvin, the one who looked like a child?”
Magnus fidgeted with his food. “I did. I-is that a good thing?”
“That means you will be the syphoner, Magnus. As will you, Evelyn.”
She sighed. “That’s the one with the cane, right?”
Will nodded, with a look of pity. Great. Just what I needed.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Magnus looked frantically between the three of them. “What does that- come on, what does that me-”
Vanham appeared in the doorway. “It has been thirty one minutes since I left. Why are you still brummin’?”
Evelyn looked to Deanna. “Brumming?”
“He means eating.”
“It’s really good.” Someone said.
The Lieutenant furrowed his brow so deeply that Evelyn thought he was closing his eyes. “You think I don’t know that?! I’ve been on this scompin’ ship for five whole years, you don’t think I’ve eaten enough of that suspiciously amazing bacon? All of you, scamper out here. NOW!”
Deanna laughed. At what, Evelyn didn’t know, but a small part of her wanted to join in.
People started shuffling through the door, however, and Evelyn followed.
Vanham peered at them as they walked out. Will kept his head bent down, and Magnus just looked anxious.
The size of the space outside the mess hall still took Evelyn’s breath away. ‘Massive’ was an understatement. Evelyn had never been below the deck of a ship like this, but it felt more like a giant warehouse than a naval vessel. She hadn’t truly been able to grasp its entire size last night, it was a larger space than any she had ever seen.
Fifty odd meters to their right was the southern wall. She could see two buildings leaned against it, one marked ‘Hygiene’, the other marked ‘Training’. To their left was the massive elevator they had come down on, and the booth they had received their wristbands and clothes from. In front of them, stretching 500 meters to the other side of the ship, stood more than two hundred helicopters. Everyone but Will looked astonished.
“Not impressed anymore?” She asked him.
He looked at her absently for a bit. “Yes.” He looked at the band on his wrist, the blue ‘24’ seeming to burn into his soul. “This is my fourth day. This space quickly lost its luster after…”
“After your previous partner died?”
He looked at her with a pained smile. “Yes. Though he’s not really….” He shook his head. “I would prefer if we could talk about this later.”
“Oh, sorry.” She scratched the back of her head. Stop that, you’ll look too nervous.
Vanham started walking towards the building marked ‘Training’ and the pink-clad rabble followed. Deanna and Magnus were talking to each other, making Evelyn feel… proud for some reason. She wasn’t certain why.
Will walked next to her, with a look of understanding. “That is quite alright, Evelyn. It is unusual for inmates here to grow attached to their partners, so I see why you would be nonchalant about it.”
“Yeah that makes sense.” She scratched the back of her head again. “Oh, uh, no offense.”
“None taken. I suspect, no, I hope that I will not be your only partner in the coming weeks. You will make it through this.”
“Thanks.” Even though it was all she had done in these last few days, she didn’t want to think about the future. Thankfully, now that they had arrived in the training room, she was forced to consider the present.
Vanham led them through its wide doors, and they arrived in another drab green hallway. He led them past a gym and into a large lecture hall.
“Sit.” He said, and they filed into the rows of chairs.
With Deanna on her right, she was assaulted by the stench of the man who sat to her left. She wrinkled her nose and noticed Deanna doing the same. Mister Stinky looked angrily at Evelyn.
“Don’t like my smell, doll?” His Italian accent made his words sound even greasier than they were. “It’s manly, it is.”
A man of many chins, he was rather rotund. If not for his long legs, he would’ve been as wide as he was tall. Evelyn was glad to have armrests between each seat.
“You smell like if a pigeon shat in your shampoo, mate. Though we haven’t gotten a shower yet, so I suppose that’s fair.” She tried her best to seem curious when looking at him. “Do they even have showers on Alaric?”
Deanna peeked over her shoulder. “I heard they bathe in garlic broth over there. It’s why the gargoyles didn’t take the whole country.”
He smiled a wide toothy grin - sans a few teeth.“I last showered a week ago, before I murdered my father- and mother-in law with my bare hands.”
Evelyn nodded. “Did they drink all your garlic broth?”
“I hear it has great health benefits.” Deanna said, voice as flat as ever.
Alright, she might not be too bad.
“Didn’t seem to save them from Mister Stinky here, though.”
He looked very, very angry. Evelyn stared at him intensely. Try it. Come on.
Vanham loudly cleared his throat and started speaking, interrupting them. Oh well, Evelyn could be patient. She had plenty of time. She scratched her hand, growing ever more mad at that irksome scab.
Vanham was standing at a podium, and had a holopresentation up on a whiteboard. It was three dimensional, sent from an emitter with millions of tiny red, green and blue lights. In the middle of the emitter was a spout of smoke: the light had to be projected onto something physical to work.
“I am certain you all have some preconceptions about what we do here.” Vanham said. Some people two rows down from Evelyn were still talking. “Would you two kindly stop? I am trying to help you survive.”
They didn’t. Vanham sighed, and nodded to a guard. The their face was hidden behind a sooted glass mask. Coward. “The hard way, then.” Vanham mumbled.
The guard pressed something on a wrist display and the two talkers snapped to a standing position with inhuman speed, their wristbands pulsing. She could hear a faint, forced whimper from both of them, like they were in incredible pain constricted by a clogged throat. Vanham calmly walked up to them and punched one hard in the stomach, sending him reeling back to his chair, still stiff and unbending.
Vanham shook his wrist and cracked his neck while he looked at the other talker. He thought for a moment, and extended a hand to the guard. “Knife.” He said.
The guard drew a long dagger, and placed it gently in the superior’s hand. He slowly brought the point of the knife to the stiff man’s eye. The entire room held its breath.
The Lieutenant laid the edge onto the inmate’s eye, and drew it sharply to the side. He placed it on the side of the man’s neck and pressed it hard, drawing it from ear to ear. People were shocked, gasping. But Evelyn knew what was up. All too well.
Even with that knowledge, she couldn’t help but flinch when the large man jabbed the knife into the inmates chest. It didn’t penetrate, however, and just sent him flying into his chair. Vanham nodded to the guard and walked back to the podium.
Right after the guard pressed his display, the mutilated man screamed and writhed in pain. The man broke in his chair, shrieking and clutching his eye with one hand, pressing the other to his throat. The one who was punched just winded and bewildered.
Slowly, the screaming subsided. His eye was intact, his throat wasn’t cut, and his chest wasn’t stabbed. “What was that?” He said hoarsely.
“What will happen if you misbehave. A light version of it, in fact.” Vanham said, looking over them all. “Describe it to them, you little plonker. Come on.”
“I-I- I couldn’t move anything… I was choking but I never passed out.” He turned and looked at them all, crazed by shock. “I… i-it ripped into my eye, I felt the blood gush out of my…” He began dry heaving. Evelyn heard a whimper to her side and found Magnus shaking, head buried in his hands. Will, bless his heart, had an arm over his shoulder and comforted him. They made eye contact, a silent affirmation visible in his eyes. ‘It gets worse’ he seemed to say.
Deanna was just flippant. “But, he’s fine. No blood, no stabbed eye. Could be worse.”
Evelyn was oddly horrified, but saddled with a familiar feeling. “Bet he didn’t see that one coming.” was all she said instead. Mister Stinky laughed next to her, but Deanna hushed him. That was probably a good idea, come to think of it.
“Out in Europe,” Vanham continued, “are millions suffering even worse than that. Now as I said before I was rudely interrupted,” no one made a noise, “you probably have some preconceived notion of what we do here. It is most likely false. Your job is to collect the raw matter that is turned into the serum that better people than you require to live.”
Evelyn scoffed, but tried to keep it silent. She resisted the urge to itch at her scab.
The presentation became a model of a man lying on the ground. On him was a weird, black, pulsating… blob.
“This is what you will have to become familiar with.” He pointed to the blob with the dagger. “The mass here is called a Gargoyle. The man is a victim, a person trapped by this gargoyle. The gargoyle’s bite immobilizes him, like our dear subjects here.” The stabbed man still rubbed his throat in disbelief. “Make any mistakes in the field, that’s what you’re gonna end up like.”
He then went on explaining do’s and dont’s for the better part of an hour, and Evelyn struggled to keep up. Don’t be loud, don’t use electronics, don’t disturb them, but do disturb them in order to harvest, don’t try to attack them, but you can push them off if you do it hard enough, and something about them being “non-newtonian”, whatever that meant.
She wasn’t sure if it was just her lack of energy, but she almost dozed off a few times, growing increasingly angry with herself each time it happened. This is important, Evi, life and death stuff. Why can’t you just listen? It didn’t help that they had to take a bloody test after the lecture. Was this what modern education was like?
…
After having completed the course on syphoning, Vanham followed them back to the mess hall.
“You, blondie.” He said to Will.
“Lieutenant?”
“Good work helping the other spoons learn their work.”
Will had gone around to all the different pairs as they practiced syphoning. Evelyn couldn’t understand why he had bothered.
“Thank you, sir.”
“I will consider it part of your repayment for your failure in the field yesterday. Andrius was one of our best. It’s in your interest that you perform better.”
Will looked down at the ground. They were of the same height, but Vanham still found a way to tower over her partner. “Yes sir.”
“Good. Don’t fail me again, you numpty.”
Will breathed out a sigh of relief as Vanham ran ahead of the pack, mumbling something about reporting to Melvin.
“That afraid of him, eh?” Evelyn nudged him with her elbow.
He looked at her elbow, then back to her, deadly serious. “That man may seem preposterous, but that is just the way he talks. Trust me, we do not ever want to turn in a broken tank to him. Rarely have I met someone so utterly devoid of sympathy or understanding.”
Will bored his eyes into the man. “He is a devil shielded by the aegis of responsibility, blaming that monstrousness on his sense of duty. There is little as dangerous as a man who acts only under the cover of his own orders.”
Evelyn was stunned. “Wow, I’ll uh… take your word for it. Where did that come from? And what the hell is an ‘eejis’?
His voice got low.“It came from my heart, Evelyn. From the hateful depths of it.”
She raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Alright then. Good to know. Do you launch into indecipherable metaphors often?”
He gave her a glare that she hadn’t expected out of a man like him.
“Right, sorry. I’ll shut up.” she said.
Dinner was also surprisingly fancy. The rest of the day was spent learning about timetables, all the different kinds of gear carried by the pumper, and “self-care in the wasteland” - a way to not ‘let the job get to you’. Whatever that meant.
All of it made Evelyn want to dread the next few weeks, but the feeling wouldn’t come. She tried sadness instead. No effect there either. She tried marveling at the food, but seemed to have used that up for breakfast.
Will had helped Deanna, Magnus and some of the slower inmates figure out how to do their jobs. He looked very tired when he sat down at dinner, but seemed to be happy again at the flick of a switch.
“So, what did you all think of the day?” he asked between bites of lemon-roasted salmon.
“Better than prison.” Deanna said. “Food’s better, and the people seem nicer.”
Magnus blushed in the seat next to her. He looked at Deanna intently, even stealing some inappropriate glances. “I think so too. Syphoning was a bit hard, but I got the hang of it after a while.”
Will smirked. “Only after you drew yourself a bath with all the disconnects there.”
“H-hey, I was learning, alright? Not all of us could be as good at it as you two.”
“Well, I do have more… practice than you two.” Will said, becoming a bit more sullen. He perked up, bumping Evelyn with his elbow. “But she did most of the work. I was just directing.”
Evelyn toyed with a french fry on her plate with a plastic fork. Where was all the metal cutlery?
“Right, Evelyn?”
She looked up at them, and caught Magnus stealing another glance at Deanna. “Oh, yeah. It wasn’t easy, though.” She took a bite of the fry. It tasted… distant.
Will took a sip of water. “Yes, arm wounds usually pose the greatest challenge. We used to prefer chest or stomach wounds, as they don’t allow the victim to pull away as easily.”
Deanna cocked her head to the side. “We?”
“Oh. Yes, me and my first partner.”
Magnus leaned forward. “Oh, what happened to him?”
“Yeah, where do I change partners?” Deanna said.
Magnus looked hurt. “W-what did I do?”
“Nothing, I was just kidding.” Deanna laughed it off, as did Magnus eventually.
Evelyn tried to give her as serious a look as possible. “Deanna.” She subtly gestured to Will with her head.
“Oh..”
Will looked drawn in. “No, it is fine. He… We made a mistake. I just… No, I will talk about it another time.”
They went back to eating in silence. The food was probably good, but Evelyn didn’t have any appetite for it. Why?
Nearing the end of the meal, Magnus put his fork down. “By the way, thanks for helping me today. On the plane, Evelyn.” He looked at her. “In the lecture, Will.” He met his gaze and gave him a nod. “And last night, Deanna.” He looked at his plate instead. “I’ve never really had many friends, o-or people to help me, but you’ve all been very nice to me. I didn’t expect a prison colony to be so… nice. So thank you.”
Will looked proud, and murmured the same affections. Deanna begrudgingly chimed in as well. Evelyn could only give what she felt was a paltry imitation of the others.
They hadn’t even known each other for a day. Will seemed to become fast friends with anyone - she’d even caught him joking with Mister Stinky on the way into the mess hall.
But Evelyn struggled to do the same. She listened to the conversation with half an ear.
“We’re on death row here, Magnus.” Deanna said. “The sooner you realize your chances of surviving are low, the better.”
“We are not on death row, Deanna.” Will looked at Magnus as if to calm him. “Death row implies certainty and finality, a guarantee of oblivion. No, we merely stand at the precipice of a deeper abyss than death. Yet we are not guaranteed to fall. It is very possible to make it out of here, Deanna, to live.”
Deanna replied, but Evelyn was too distracted to listen. That little speech should have been rousing, shouldn’t it? Instilled a little motivation in her? But no. She dug deeper, looking for something, anything. She found only the nothing inside her. Her first reaction was guilt. Be thankful. She told herself. You could have gotten paired up with anyone else, and they wouldn’t have the experience this guy has. Damn you, why can’t you just be thankful for once in your life? Her chances of making it out were a lot better now. But five weeks? Five weeks? She tried focusing on the good, as her brother had taught her. The people around her, a shot at friendship. But why did that elude her so?
She was brought back to reality by Vanham marching into the room. Will tightened up next to her.
“You have all progressed through your training faster than I had anticipated. For a bunch of gormless twits, you sure seem to have figured it out well enough. Tomorrow, you will be deployed. Therefore, you have the next three hours before bedtime allotted for recreation. The first wave will ship at 08:00 tomorrow. Good night.”
Guards wheeled in pool tables, and the other inmates cheered. Even Will looked surprised.
Together, the four of them played a few games. Other inmates joined them along the way: a soft spoken but mischievous-looking englishwoman, a morose man with a big scar on his face, and the man who had been punched by Vanham. Even Mister Stinky made a shot or two. Will seemed to get along with them all, as did Deanna. Evelyn tried her best to keep up, but had to go back to their cabin after an hour and a half.
She felt exhausted in a way she rarely did. Will had seemed happy enough. Even Magnus, who had been scared shitless only a day before, seemed content. So why didn’t Evelyn? She found herself longing for her brother, the way he always cheered her up on days like this. Helped her meet new people. But he couldn’t do that anymore. How could she do it on her own?.
This, out of all things, should have brought something to her. A tear, a sadness. Frustration, despair, loss, anything. But no. She just wanted it over with, though she knew that could never happen. Even if the next five weeks went well, and she was free again, what then? Would she even know how to be free? After all that had happened, all she had done? What was her endgame in all of this?
The years would stretch on without end anyway, rest seeming a light at the mouth of an unending tunnel. For now, all she could do was sleep. Sleep, and save her worries for later. She wondered when “later” truly was.