Into the Light

172

I went into the bathroom and started piling things into my bag from there. My eyes caught her makeup bag, so I hurriedly shoved it into my bag, along with anything else I was sure belonged to her. I would deal with this way later. I had plenty of clothes. Hopefully, I could go a solid year without opening that bag. Maybe I could face it by then, but with the way I was feeling in this moment, I wasn't so sure. It didn't feel like the hold in my chest would ever heal. It was just a giant sucking wound that opened wider with every breath I took. When I finished with the bathroom, I walked back into the room and stood there, stupidly, with my bag in my hands, not saying a word. "You okay, Colby?" Kat asked, gently. I met her sorrowful gaze and steeled myself against it. "Yeah, just ready to go," I answered. I was proud of myself. My voice only wavered a little that time. "Sam, come on. Get up, so we can go home. I'm tired," she said, kicking at Sam's leg. "Huh, what? Yeah," he mumbled, sitting up. His voice was already thick with sleep. He yawned hugely and shrugged at Kat, when she glared at him. "Really?" she asked. "Sorry. I'm tired," he answered. "Yeah, me too, but I packed all of our things while you took a nap," she responded haughtily. "I said I was sorry, Kat. Give it a rest," he replied, giving her a stern look. She huffed out a breath and stood up. "Whatever, let's just go," she mumbled and grabbed her overnight bag. I guess no sleep and the death of your friends didn't mix well with a good mood. Sam grabbed his bag and we both left our key cards on the desk in the room, then we followed Kat out into the hallway. We stopped to pay the room service bill, which I didn't even look at, then walked out to our car. No words were spoken between us, but Sam did reach over and take Katrina's bag from her. She gave him a small smile and took his free hand in hers. The ride home was just as silent as the ride to the hotel had been. Once we finally made it back, I jumped out of the car and headed inside, not bothering to grab my bag from the backseat. I didn't need it. It could stay there forever. Sam called my name but I ignored him. The car wasn't locked, so he didn't need me. I went straight up to my room without stopping, until I was inside, with the door closed and locked behind me. I didn't feel like talking to anyone. Not today. I fell face first onto my bed, with my legs hanging off the side. I had every intention of staying exactly like this forever. Or at least as my body would let me before my muscles completely locked up from lack of moisture and potassium. Or before I needed to pee. "Shit," I grumbled and hoisted myself up. Now I had to pee. I made my way to the bathroom to do my business, keeping my eyes averted from the counter. I couldn't remember if Anna had anything in here, but I didn't need to know right then. After I finished, I walked to the counter, keeping my eyes on the mirror in front of me. The shadows under my eyes were more pronounced than I had ever seen them, giving me an almost dead look. Maybe I had died out there. Maybe I was a ghost, walking around, still thinking he was alive. I pinched myself to be sure. "Ouch," I hissed and rubbed my arm. Definitely felt that. I had done it extra hard just to be sure that I could feel it. My skin had a waxy look to it, the product of all the dirt and grime that had settled there, along with the tears that had washed through, leaving trails through the muck on my face. My hair was sticking up in patches, while the rest of flat and greasy looking. I saw a deep cut coming up through the neck of my shirt, so I stripped it off. There were cuts and bruises making a path up and down my chest, abdomen, and sides, along with a long cut from the middle of my chest, up to my neck. I placed my fingers against it, and felt how sore and tender it was.  "HHSSS," I hissed, sucking in a breath. That was gonna hurt for a few days, for sure. There were dark patches of blue, black, purple, and red along my rib cage. I for sure had a broken rib or two. Maybe that was why I couldn't catch my breath all that well. Or that's what I told myself. I placed my index and middle finger against the nasty purple welt, that was growing more swollen by the second, that was along my top three ribs. The pain was automatic and sharp. "Shit," I flinched and moved my hands. I ran my hands through my hair, then tried to do something with it, as I finger combed it down. After a minute, I gave up. There was no saving it this time. No saving Anna this time. I shook my head at my image, sternly. "No," I said aloud. "No. We aren't doing this." I turned away from my reflection and walked back into my room. The couch caught my eye, as it was covered in all the clothes for Anna that Kat had dumped out of my bag. The tight little shirts that she wasn't comfortable in, but still rocked them. The short skirts and the ripped leggings. The lingerie, all of it, just laying across my couch. "Oh, FUCK OFF," I yelled into the silence, getting angry with myself. Not just myself though. I was angry with everyone and everything. The whole damn world. Why did Anna have to lose her life to save something that didn't want to be saved? The people on this planet were mostly fake, rude, selfish people. There was so much death from people being killed by other people, it was literally all over the television. The planet, itself, was dying off because humans didn't give enough fucks to try and save her. So, why did Anna have to die for that? We should've just said fuck it and let it happen. We wouldn't have had much time, but we would've had more time together. Then we'd both die and we'd have been together that way. Even Sam and Kat could've stayed with us, because they would have been dead too. The whole club. The Dead Breakfast Club. I smiled to myself, thinking about how Anna had made me watch that old 80's movie.