From Marley, with Love.

Chapter 62: Suicide watch

Chapter 62: Suicide watch

//WARNING SUICIDE AND SELF HARM.

The streets of Liberio lay empty, only dimly lit by the old lanterns and streetlights. Their sad, light was diffused by the puddles and streams. In the alleyways there was the sound of dripping rainwater, rushing through pipes and ducts. A group of cats sat huddled together, lapping the old rainwater up from the crevices in the cobblestone roads. The clowder of cats has broken apart when a group of fast-paced walking people came through. Swishing about in their long blue, wet capes and their simple, black-blue caps. Women and men, with lanterns and serious, spying faces.

"We should split up at the end of this road, cover more ground." An older man said, he led the large group of people. He looked over to a young woman who followed him.

"I agree," Rosanna said, stroking her damp strands of hair back underneath her cap. The uniforms were a sign of both mourning and authority. It was the only Eldian uniform in which the armband was hidden underneath a cloak. Underneath the military uniform was worn.

"We should watch windows and make sure the cellars underneath houses are quiet."

"The cellars should be empty, they'll only flood with this weather." A young soldier said, tapping Rosanna on her shoulder.

"That's why," Rosanna replied, turning back to him. "They'll think no will come for them and therefore get down into that cellar.

"Ah, true." The young man said, dragging his wet cloak better onto his shoulder.

"Why do we even have to wear this?"

"Tradition." An older woman said.

"Hygiene," Rosanna murmured, wiping the rain off of her face before sneezing loudly.

"Don't get sick." The older woman grinned.

"No promises.' Rosanna sniffled.

The large group continued their way down the street, splitting up and walking down the T-split road near the big market.

"This is your first time on suicide watch right?" the older woman asked, the soft light of her lantern lighting the lines around her eyes and her mouth.

"It is yes, how many times have you done this?"

The older woman thought, squeezing her mouth into a thin line.

"Twenty?"

"Gods..."
"Maybe even more. I was younger than you now."

"That must've been awful..."

The woman shook her head, "No, it's fine. The finding of bodies and the way they had to go is awful. But whenever we meet someone, we can help, those are the good nights."

"That works?"

"Yeah, not always. But we can sometimes get them out of their red fog by talking to them."

"They're ripe for the asylum after that right?"

"Sometimes, but others recover." The woman turned to Rosanna. "You know what it is like."

"Mh?"

"You've seen the battles of the east and middle-east. You know what those men go through."

Rosanna nodded hesitantly.

"Have you never felt the need to... step out?"

Rosanna paused, dropping her head down.

"I might have...many people probably have.' She looked up to the sky, playing with one of the buttons on her sleeve. "We all have been through hell..."