✅ A Dose of Humiliation

77. Refuge

With apologies for intermittent posting during the house-moving; the last few days have already consumed the chapters I had written in advance. The normal schedule will resume soon, I hope. Finally into the home straight for this story, and I hope you're all enjoying it.

"Lorna," a soft voice whispered. "Lorna?" I knew that Clint was talking to me, and I knew that he was concerned. But he must have repeated my name a dozen times before I realised that he wanted me to answer; or that by saying something, I might make him worry a little less.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I was so..."

"It's not your fault. It's clear that you're under more pressure than anyone could imagine. I understand some of these things. I... After you helped me, did you know I did emergency first aid courses? So that if somebody else was hurt, I could pay it forward. You were like a role model for me in that way. And I know that... Well, I'm not sure what I knew. But like, you did sports first aid, didn't you, and the one I could get a place on was focused on disaster recovery. Like knowing what to do after a gas explosion or a school shooting. So I know how to recognise psychosomatic shock. Something's put you under an incredible amount of pressure, and you just can't cope by yourself any longer. You should probably see a doctor, because that can lead to all kinds of problems with your blood pressure, brain chemistry, or whatever else. But... looking at you now, I'm pretty confident that any kind of institution wouldn't be good for your emotional recovery. So I'll do whatever I can to help you."

"Why?" I mumbled, not even looking around to see where I was. I just couldn't understand why anybody would go out of their way to help me, as messed up as I was right now.

"Because it looks like you need it. And nobody should be alone when they've done so much for other people."

"I'm a monster," I growled. "The good girl is dead. Don't keep hanging onto me hoping that person will come back. You'll only get in trouble because of me."

"What if I don't care?"

"Why would you..." I started, but I couldn't finish. The little guy had come closer now and put his arms around me. I could have lashed out, I was so angry with the world that I could have hurt anyone now. Even the people I cared about the most; there was nothing that would make anyone safe around me. There were plenty of people clinging to me out of nostalgia for who I had been, but deep inside I just knew that they were only going to get themselves hurt if they couldn't let go. I was a monster now, and I hated myself for it, but there was nothing I could do to stop it now. Even if there was a cure I could take, that surely wouldn't reverse all the changes to my personality. That was the whole point, wasn't it? As much as I hated the person I was becoming, there wasn't a way back from here.

I was angry, and a second later my frustration turned into fear. I didn't know what I was doing now, and I certainly shouldn't be crying on the shoulder of a boy who seemed to idolise me just because I'd done the right thing once, what seemed like a lifetime ago now.

"Let me go," I sobbed. "I don't want to be anybody else's problem. I can take care of myself, right?"

"No," he whispered. "I don't think you can. You need somebody to keep on reminding you that the good you is still in there. And I don't mean being altruistic and following all the rules. That's not..."

"That's not me anymore," I said. I tried to snap at him, drive him back so that I could storm off into the darkness. I didn't know what I would have done then, except cut myself off from anyone who had ever cared about me. But it was all academic anyway, because I didn't have the anger or the bitterness. I was just exhausted, too drained to summon any real emotion.