Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
I just watch her as she does this over and over again. And it occurs to me that this is why she ran.
It wasn’t to get away from me. I’m not going to hurt her. And she’s not going to let me.
She ran to get home to her pillow so she could scream into it.
But what did I do?
I don’t understand.
What did I do to cause this?
Because it was me, obviously. Something I said back there at the gym. What did I say?
I try to rewind the conversation, but my head is spinning with running and an unexpected fight. Not to mention the screaming girl on the floor.
Finally, she stops, but she doesn’t get up. She just stretches out on the floor and cries.
That’s when I notice there’s no furniture in here. I didn’t immediately see it because the place is so fucking small. There’s just a tatami mat on the floor and when I see a phone charger plugged into the outlet next to it, I realize that’s where she sleeps.
On the other side of the room, stacked neatly against the wall, are clothes. A few bathing suits. Some shirts and shorts. Two pairs of trainers and a bra.
I’m still looking when she gets up off the floor, walks past me, and goes into the bathroom.
I just stand there, unsure what to do next.
The shower starts.
I make up my mind to stay and walk into her kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers. All of them empty.
She has three things on the counter: a rice maker, a bag of rice, and a bag of… I have to pick it up to look at the label, because I don’t know what this shit is. “Dehydrated chicken.” I make a face and set it back down, then open her fridge to find a six-pack of water.
I walk over to the window and pull the sheer, white curtain aside. She has a view of an alley.
And look, I’m not some high-and-mighty fuck who looks down on poor people. I’m rich now, but I’m still ‘poor people.’ And this isn’t even about money.
This is about… guilt.
I know this, feel it to be true with every fiber of my being, because I feel the same way.
Guilt. That we made it and all those others didn’t.
That’s what I said back at the gym. I was bragging because she was challenging me. And I said it was still here. The death matches are still going on.
It was shock, that look on her face. Shock.
Surely she had to have known that they weren’t saving anyone but themselves.
But no. She was thirteen when that shit went down. It’s entirely possible that she did think they saved people.
It’s time to leave.
I’m mid-turn, facing the door, when she comes out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel. Her face is red, her eyes too, and she doesn’t look at me as she passes.
I turn to watch her, curiosity getting the better of me, and then just stand there stunned, watching as she drops her towel with her back to me and picks up a tank top. She puts it on, grabs a pair of shorts—no underwear, I notice—and pulls them up her legs.
When she turns to face me, I see so, so much in that hard-edged face. Then the tears spill out and run down her cheeks.
Those blue eyes of her are directed right at me when she spits her words out. “I hate. Everyone. I want to kill people. You wanna know why I want to fight? Well, there you go. I want to kill people.”
“No, you don’t, darlin’.”
“Fuck you!” She’s snifflin’ and tears are streaming down her face. “You have no idea what I want. And you have no idea what I’ve done!”
“Sure, I do. Because I’ve done it too.”
She stares at me with wild eyes for a few moments. And then… all the hardness falls out of her face. Every last bit of it. She breaks. Right here in front of me. She breaks.
I walk towards her and she takes an equal number of steps back.
“Don’t.” She points her finger at me, like I can be warned off by a crying girl.
I come right up to her, and what can she do, really? There’s nowhere to go in this place. It’s the size of a fucking closet. I reach for her—she’s shaking her head, but I ignore it. I just pull her in and give her a hug.
And this is enough to make her completely fall apart. She covers her face with her hands and sobs into my chest.
Noises coming out of her that I never even knew existed.
CHAPTER 7
Something is seriously wrong with me. I don’t even know why I’m crying. It’s all so stupid.
But… even though I would never have asked for it, the hug feels good. I can’t remember a time when someone hugged me like this. We weren’t affectionate in the camp. We couldn’t afford to be because every few months someone left and didn’t come back. And even when I came out of my death fights, I never felt as vulnerable as I do right now.