Learning to be Strong Alone // Jeraphina Fanfiction

Chapter VI: Please

"Once you were gone,
I felt my heart ache.
Leaving you alone
was my greatest mistake."

...............

No one truly knows what happened at the bridge.

And I haven't told a soul about my ability returning...

Because it hasn't.

.

.

.

Remi's POV

"C'mon, Sera," I spoke to the surface of her locked bedroom door, "You've been in there for two days straight. Elaine says you haven't even come out to eat," I said as calmly as I could get my voice to become—not wanting to startle her back into her cocoon.

My body leant against the wooden door, my body rising and falling with every strained and worry-filled breath I took.

I wanted my voice to turn hoarse from screaming at her to take care of herself—screaming that it wasn't her fault. She blames herself . . . a lot.

I moved my head closer to the door, my ear against its surface, listening for a reaction but no response could be heard. It was just pure silence—a sniffle breaking the barrier every once and a while.

Minutes had passed as I stood there, before Elaine walked up to me and quietly lifted my hand just to place a small, golden key into the palm.

"S-she told me she didn't want to talk, a-and I was too afraid to try," Elaine shyly told me, "You'll probably have a better chance with it," she said, rubbing the back of her head and slightly stepping further back into the hallway.

I quickly muttered a 'thank you' as I unlocked Sera's door.

Once it was open, I looked around the room.

Apart from the ray of brightness that shone from the partially jarred door, there was no light coming into the room where the girl had spent all night crying.

Clothes were scattered everywhere around the room, empty bottles and various cups gathered on shelves and in the corners from when she had decided to reveal herself and get a drink.

I looked towards the bed to see a distorted figure and slowly made my way into the room, leaving Elaine to hide herself behind the door frame.

"Oh, Sera . . ." my heart was strained to see the girl in such distraught—she was lying in a curled up ball surrounded by various blankets and pillows—eyes glazed over and tired.

Her face was discoloured and tear stains were stuck to her pale cheeks. The magenta hair that lay on her hair was ruffled and unkempt-the clothes she wore old and stale under the blanket where she hid.

I sighed and flopped myself onto her messy bed.

I hadn't experienced John's death and even then, we were never that close. I guess it must be quite hard on her.

It was hard on his father, too.

"Um . . . S-Sera?"