Amentia

Chapter 36 - Still alive

Nina's sleep didn't last long and was filled with unpleasant images, sounds and smells. She woke up with tears in her eyes and saw the chained moth hovering above her disappear. She wondered if she'd ever be able to sleep peacefully again. She sat up on the bed and hugged her legs, hiding her face behind her knees. For days now she'd been feeling like she was walking through a dark tunnel with a small light at the end of it that was always out of reach. No matter how much she walked and ran to the light, it never came closer. How long until it was gone for good? How long until she was completely lost in the dark? How much death could she bear to witness before it destroyed her?

A heavy weight sat on her chest, even though the moth was gone. This made sense, because this weight was different. It oppressed her, clouded her thoughts and flooded her with dark emotions despite her best efforts to keep calm. She felt angry and desolate. She felt the despair of calling her mother's name and never seeing her turn around. She felt so small. She couldn't breathe. She wanted to cry but her eyes were completely dry. Her insides twisted, her shoulder hurt where she'd been stabbed, her heart sunk in her chest. Something was very wrong.

While some part of her mind was still sane and awake, she called for Arthur. He was the wisest creature that lived in her imaginative mind and he always had good advice, even if it wasn't pleasant to hear. He saw the world more clearly than her and always had a great vocabulary to express it.

She felt his weight on the other end of the bed as he appeared.

"It seems you have been going through some particularly unpleasant experiences as of late," he said. Nina lifted her head just a little and rested her chin on her forearm to look at him; she didn't have the energy to even hold her head up.

Arthur was an owl with rainbow-colored feathers on his wings and back. His flamboyant appearance contrasted heavily with his deep voice and serious demeanor, something that always improved Nina's mood. Most of the creatures she had created as a preteen were colorful like him. They looked silly to her now, but it felt wrong to alter their appearance after so many years; she probably wouldn't recognize them and they might not recognize themselves.

"Unpleasant doesn't even begin to cover it," replied Nina bitterly, repressing a shiver of pain and trying to keep her mind as clear as possible to carry on the conversation. "I don't know how to deal with all of this, Arthur. And on top of it, I'm angry that I keep thinking about Mum, knowing she'd be looking down at me, calling me a wimp, and scowling if she saw me right now."

"Pardon my language, but your mother can go suck an egg for all I care," he said, genuinely irritated. Nina couldn't help but laugh at the phrase he'd used, ever the old-fashioned owl, and a bit of the pain receded without her noticing. "This is just you being sad and finding excuses to divert from the real reason. At some point you will have to address the fact that you have found yourself surrounded by explicit violence and death in a place that was to be your haven. You can say it, child. You are disappointed."

He was right of course. He lived in her mind; he knew everything that passed through it, even the things Nina chose to ignore.

"And slightly traumatized," he added as if that weren't the most important aspect of it all. Nina lowered her head again to conceal her tired face, but feeling more relaxed and clearheaded than before.

"I guess I'm still just a child. I saw magic and thought I'd get a fairy tale. That was my mistake; I'm suffering even more because of it."

"It was a reasonable assumption that you made," said Arthur matter-of-factly. "Nothing wrong with a childish mind, if you ask me. Adult minds are quite sad and dull, you have always thought so yourself."

Nina sighed. "This wouldn't have happened if I had just ignored the portal like any sane person would have," she said grimly, her mind fogging up again. "I'm an adult; I should think twice before doing things like this. I just never learn to behave my age."

"Wallowing is useless," he stated quite brutally, clearly disapproving of Nina's behavior but without the judgment her mother would've had for it. "Especially considering that nothing that has happened to you here has been your fault. Nothing. You are not responsible for any of the ugly things you have seen. You have been hurt, Nina, you are hurting right now. Having a childish mind has no relevance."

He was right again, as much as it pained her to admit. Self-pitying was always her first reaction to most problems; it was a bad habit her mother had instilled in her over the course of her childhood and it was a hard habit to quit.

"And you very well know that the day you give up your childish ways in favor of being a serious adult is the day your heart will have truly died," he said, his voice deeper than before.

The words echoed in Nina's chest, in the center of the darkness that was clouding her thoughts. They caused a stir, a ripple in the sea of negativity that was trying to drown her in her own emotions.

"This situation has no one to put the blame on; you do not blame the sky for throwing a lightning storm down on you," said Arthur, bringing Nina's attention back to reality.

"Still sucks if your house burns down because of it, though."

"Of course," he said simply.

Nina felt strangely comforted by his acknowledgment; it made her think maybe it wasn't wrong to feel so hopeless.

She felt a slight throb on her back, and stretched her arm behind to touch her right shoulder blade where she had been stabbed. Despite Meiko's healing powers, the stabbing had left a thin vertical scar, a painful reminder of how ugly this world could be, no matter how much magic it had in it. And that had only been their second day there. The wounds she had got later on were not visible like this one.

Nina was flooded with grim thoughts again, but she refused to have her mind become blurry because of them. She was sad and traumatized and disappointed that a magical world was so ugly, but her mind was the most important thing she had and it was hers only; it would not be cracked by some unknown force if she had any saying in it. But fighting against it was like trying to swim in an ocean made of tar, hopeless and exhausting. Nevertheless, she insisted. She forced herself to remember her childish tenacity that arose whenever the odds were working against her. That is how she had got through life all these years. That is how protagonists moved through their stories, and she had always been the protagonist of her life, despite her mother's efforts to restrain her.

"Do you think I'll ever stop seeing dead faces and hearing disturbing laughs in my dreams?" she asked with her eyes closed after a few moments of silence.

The muddiness of her mind was beginning to clear, leaving her tired but otherwise more relieved than before. She could recognize her own sadness now, free of dark influences. It was a sadness that was easier to navigate, even if it was impossible to eradicate.

"Maybe not," replied Arthur, the harshness of his voice coming at Nina like a slap on the face. "But most likely yes. Everything passes eventually. The storm ends, you clear the rubble it left and you rebuild your house brick by brick at your own pace."

That was a nice sentiment, but it seemed easier said than done.

"I'm afraid this might not pass, ever," she said as she ran a finger on the scar on her shoulder.

"It will."

"You're awfully certain," she said, looking up at him.

"Of course I am. You are still alive."

"That hardly counts for anything."

"Child, that counts for everything."