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chapter fifty-one my heart, tethered to yours
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Max Mayfield never believed she was worth saving.
The nights she spent on her knees before her bed, her hands to her heart, praying to the only God she's ever believed in, she never prayed for forgiveness or a second chance. She never asked for help, but she begged for it to end. Max's life seemed to be worsening, every day felt the same, and she began to lose touch with herself. She wasn't sure she wanted to be a part of it any longer.
It started by distancing herself, pushing everyone that's a part of her life away because then, when she was gone, it would hurt less.
Some days she would wake up thinking she was doing better, just to return to the initial stage the next day. If not from the start, then it was worse than before. The repetitive cycle was so fucking tiring, and she felt as if she was only moving backwards.
So when she realized Vecna had chosen her as one of his victims, she didn't put up much of a fight. Though it fucking terrified her, the idea of dying, she accepted her fate without much of a fight.
But when she was there, where Vecna seized her by the neck, where she could hear the ticking of the clock, counting down the seconds till she died. Max could hear her favourite song in her ears and saw her friends calling her, pleading with her to wake up. They wanted to save her, they wanted her alive, and she understood she was worth saving.
Max knew she was fighting for something worthwhile.
It all felt like a dream; the ticking clock, Billy in the graveyard, running towards the light because her life depended on it gravely.
